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“When are you leaving?”
“Thursday. Classes start Monday, and the apartments opened to everyone yesterday.”
“Oh. I thought you had another week.” Her tone is distant as she glances around the disaster that’s my room, focusing on nothing.
I take a seat at the edge of my bed. “What’s going on, Syd?”
She exhales. “I have no clue how to say this. And I hate that I’m burdening you with it, because you—”
“Sydney,” I interrupt. “Just tell me.”
“I think I’m pregnant.”
I blink at her, those four words registering yet also sounding totally foreign.
“Saysomething.” Sydney pushes a stack of shirts aside and sits down beside me, her fingers twisting anxiously in her lap.
“I… You hadsex?” As far as I knew, she was still a virgin.
Sydney exhales. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“Unfortunately?What the hell happened?”
She makes a face. “Well, the sex itself sucked. And now I might be pregnant. So overall a pretty crappy experience. Zero out of ten, I’d say.”
I want to pelt her with more questions about thelosing her virginitybomb, but it’s overshadowed by the second revelation. “Might be? Did you take a test?”
“No. I realized I was late on Friday, freaked out all weekend, then booked a train ticket back home yesterday. Catherine picked me up from the train station. I had her drop me off here.”
“Did you tell her?”
“No, of course not. She’s nice, but it’s not like she’s my mom. She’s not still in Pembrooke for me or Holden.”
“You need to take a test, Syd.”
She looks away. “I know. I just need to panic some more first.”
“You might be panicking for no reason.”
“Well, I’d rather panic about a maybe than be terrified over a yes.” Sydney lies back against my comforter on top of my winter jacket.
“Okay.” I push some jeans aside and lie down beside her.
“You can’t tell Holden.”
I exhale. “Sydney…”
“I mean it. I don’t want him to know. Hopefully never, but definitely not yet.”
“Okay. I won’t say anything.” I pause. “Can I ask… Who got such a dismal review in bed? A hunky actor in the program with you?”
Sydney doesn’t crack a smile at my attempt at humor.
“You haven’t mentioned a guy this summer…”
There’s alongpause before she finally answers. “It was Harrison.”
“Harrison,” I repeat. “As in Harrison…Baker?”
