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Sydney tosses Chester away and grimaces. “No details, please. Just, you know…generally.”
“I was super nervous and parts of it were weird. But I was comfortable around him, and that helped a lot. I felt safe. I don’t know, it was kind of like jumping, but knowing there was a safety net.”
“All thatandyou managed not to get knocked up.” Sydney’s smile is bittersweet. “Lucky you.”
“You don’t know you’re knocked up. Which is why you should take a test.”
“But what if Iam?” Her voice holds all the naked terror I’d be experiencing in the same situation.
“Harrison is a good guy, Syd. It isn’t just your problem. You have support. And options.”
Sydney sighs. “I haven’t talked to him since that night. I wouldn’t even know how to… We used protection,” she tells the ceiling. “And he put it on, so I didn’t mess that part up. He can’t blame me.”
“Nothing is a hundred percent reliable.”
“Except for abstinence.” She snorts. “Wish I’d stuck with that.”
“You don’t know anything for certain.”
“Enough about me. What didwedo last weekend?”
“Thank you for covering for me.”
She smiles. “What are best friends for? Although I think Holden is a bad influence. You were with him, right?”
“Yeah. Maggie was right. We went camping.”
Sydney’s nose wrinkles. “How was that?”
“Better than I was expecting.” I know she’s asking about the whole sleeping and eating in the woods part, but it applies to the entire trip.
“Dinner!” my mom calls.
“Come on.” I pat Sydney’s leg. “Let’s eat and then I’ll drive you to the condo. We can watch a movie or something to take your mind off everything.”
She groans but follows me into the hallway.
And the whole walk downstairs, all I can think about is how completely shocking it is my best friend might be a mom.
CHAPTERELEVEN
HOLDEN
The ball sinks through the hoop with a satisfying swish. Finn swears—loudly.
I grin, retrieving the ball and then spinning it around on one finger. “What’s the score again?”
Mark groans. “I need a water break.”
We all watch as he hobbles toward the grass that surrounds the cracked pavement. Jordan drew a foul earlier.
Most of my time spent in Pembrooke, it feels like nothing has changed. Especially here on this court, it’s easy to pretend that we’re just kids playing a game.
I dribble a few times, then palm the ball. We’ve been out here for about twenty minutes. When I texted Cassia earlier, she said she had to pack tonight, but maybe she’d be up for an ice cream break. We could go to the place with the waffles that she likes so much.
“Fuck.”
We all glance at Mark. He’s sitting in the grass, a strange, panicked expression on his face as he looks down at his leg.
