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That seems to placate her. She leans back and folds her arms.
“Did you ever hear back from the clinic about your blood test?” Nya asks. “You still look a bit pale in the face. Like you need a little sun.”
Tara’s hand flies to my neck. “Yeah, you’re still a little warm.”
I shake my head. “No, they said they would email me the results. I’ve checked my email every morning.” Gosh, I knew I was forgetting something.“I meant to go there yesterday, but I totally forgot.”
“Have you checked your spam?” Tara asks. “In first year, when I thought one of the Chaos House guys had given me the clap, they were supposed to email me the results. I spent the entire fucking day fretting. The whole time, the results were sitting in my spam folder.” She turns to look out the window. “You would think that they would send important shit like that from an official domain name, right? They fucking don’t.”
“What is with you and Chaos House guys?” Nya asks, her mouth slightly agape.
I get my phone out, navigating to my email app. Though I am feeling much better than that day I was nearly bedridden, I’m not entirely back to normal. My fingers shake a little. What if I have some sort of disease that’s causing this? Surely a cold would be gone by now.
“They know how to fuck,” Tara says with a shrug. “Isn’t that all you guys do over there?”
There’s a touch of humor in Nya’s voice. “You know I’m not allowed to share what goes on in the House,” she giggles. “But you’re right. They do.”
Their laughter is a backdrop to my thoughts as I sift through my spam folder.
Sure enough, there’s an email there from the Saint Frederic University Campus Clinic, with the titleBlood Test Results.It’s been sitting in my spam folder for nearly a week now. I suck in a breath, then click the email thread with shaky fingers.
I skim over the body of the email, trying to discern if there’s anything wrong with me that I should worry about. One word in the email jumps out at me.
Pregnant.
I re-read the sentences, just to make sure I’m not losing my mind. The words are swimming in my vision.
hCG—a pregnancy hormone—was present in your sample. You may be pregnant. Please reach out as soon as possible to schedule a visit with the campus gynecologist.
The phone clatters on to the glass table, and the world starts to spin. There’s no way.
I can’t be.
I head over to Google and search up pregnancy symptoms. My vision starts to blur as I check off the list in the article I find—my unexplained illness, the puking, the fever and flu-like symptoms, the weird fainting spells, even the fucking emotional meltdowns I’ve been having.
The article even makes me think I could be liketwo fucking months alongbecause of the strength and persistence of my symptoms. Two months?
Alexander and I have been having sex without protection from the very first time like three months ago. I just never thought that…Henever mentioned that…. In hindsight, it’s obviously something I should have considered, but for all my anxiety, I never once fucking thought about this.
I just didn’tthinkit could happen to me.
My period has never been regular. I’ve gone almost a year without getting it before. I figured this time was just like all the other times. I’ve never fucking thought about babies before, and now there’s one growing inside of me? This can’t be happening to me. I’m eighteen.
I still feel like a fucking baby sometimes.
Oh my god.
Tara and Nya’s voices filter into my consciousness. I slip out of my stupor long enough to realize they’re staring at me. Asking me what’s wrong.
I don’t know what to say.
My voice is nonexistent. I can’t even feel my body. A wave of nausea rocks me, and it’s so intense I have to cover my mouth to hold it in.
“I need to use the bathroom.” My voice is weak. “I’ll be back.”
I pick up my phone and scramble to the bathroom, locking myself in the stall. The moment I’m in there, the puke comes hard and fast. I barely have time to open the lid before I’m vomiting my breakfast. Tears bead in the corner of my eyes.
What the fuck am I going to do?
