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Painting a smile on my face, I say, “I’m fine. What are you talking about?”
A wave of nausea washes over my middle. Reaching for my ice water, I take a gulp in an attempt to stave it off.
“So what’s new with you?” Tenley asks me. “I feel like you’ve been MIA in the group chat the last few weeks. Ted’s keeping you that busy?”
“Oh, um …” I’m about to say nothing. The N part of the word is still on my tongue when Mad kicks me under the table.
“Guys, she’s not going to tell you, but I will. Remember that hottie from the dating app who she used to know? The one she was texting with that night we went out?”
“Alec Mansfield?” Campbell asks. “What about him?”
I give Mad a look. I was planning on telling them, I was just waiting to work up the courage.
“What?” Tenley leans in, her expression firm. She hates being out of the know, which makes sense given her profession. Information and evidence gathering is what she does. “What does Mad know that we don’t?”
Mad nudges me and offers a reassuring look.
I glare at her.
“Did you end up meeting up with him or something?” Campbell asks.
Hesitating, I swallow the lump in my throat. “I did.”
“And?” Tenley asks, ever the impatient one.
“We … had a few too many drinks … and one thing led to another …” I choose my words carefully, watching as their expression disassemble in real time.
“So the two of you had sex.” Tenley sits straighter, looking like she’s interviewing a client.
“Oh my god. Did you really?” Campbell asks, though it’s not coming from a place of judgement so much as it’s coming from a place of amusement. “How was he? Was it good?”
“A little too good if you ask me …” Mad says between pursed lips.
I give her an elbow to the rib cage and remind myself never to tell her a secret again.
“Tell us everything,” Cam says.
“Yeah, what’s the deal? Are you guys dating or what?” Tenley prods as the waiter comes, asking for our drink order.
“Margaritas all around,” Campbell says before I can ask for something non-alcoholic.
Mad kicks me again. This time, it hurts.
As the waiter turns to leave, I raise a finger.
“Actually, I’ll just take a Sprite,” I say. The girls all turn to stare at me, so I quickly add, “I have a little headache. Hung over.”
“Oh, really, what an interesting story.” Mad eyes me in a way that suggests she’s not going to let me live this down. “Because I swear you were passed out on the couch by eight o’clock last night. Did you go out later and not tell me?”
“Maybe I slept wrong. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, I have a head—"
“Bull. Shit,” Mad mutters under her breath. “Whenever I get a shitty night’s rest, I don’t wake up the next day glowing.”
Even though the world does not revolve around me, I could swear, at that moment, it does because it’s like the busy restaurant goes completely silent. My heartbeat putters in my ears. Every eye around the table takes me in like I’m some subhuman species and a flush creeps up my neck.
“No kidding. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were preggo,” Tenley says with a laugh, but by then, the others must’ve seen something in my face. There I go again, broadcasting my thoughts on my forehead. “Wait …”
Campbell says, “Oh my God … are you?”
Tenley claps. “That’s amazing!”
Our server delivers my Sprite along with a pitcher of margaritas and three glasses. Mad gets busy pouring before suggesting we make a toast.
“Guys, stop. I don’t want this to be a big thing,” I say. “It’s already a lot to take in.”
“Uh, too late. Having a baby is already a big thing,” Tenley says. “And we’re your best friends. We’re happy for you. Plus we get to be aunties now. It’s exciting!”
“What does Alec think about it?” Campbell asks.
“He’s surprisingly taking it in stride,” I say.
The girls lift their glasses and I meet them with my Sprite.
“To Stassi, who’s going to be the world’s best mother,” Mad says. “And also to me, because this never would’ve happened had I not messaged Alec from your phone that night. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Cheers!” Tenley and Campbell clink their cactus-shaped glasses against ours.
“Isn’t it so crazy how things work out sometimes?” Campbell marvels. “Someone who spent their entire life hating you suddenly becomes the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I lift a palm. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Well, I think it’s sweet regardless,” Campbell says. “I know he was a jerk to you back in the day, but I bet there was admiration—even love—then, too. At that age, guys just suck at expressing it.”
“I don’t know about that,” I mumble, thinking of how he used to be the loudest person humming the Wicked Witch of the West theme as I pedaled by on my bike. How he used to call me “squirt”, or even better, “static cling”. How he used to spit water on me when I’d walk past them while they were playing in the sprinkler outside. His antics knew no limits.
