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"Mostly queasy. Maybe I've been sick once or twice."
She takes a sip of her tea, but her eyes are watching me over the rim. I'm not sure what to make of her expression.
"How long have you been feeling like this?" she asks.
"The closer I get to the wedding or running away, the worse it gets."
"What about your period?"
I find her question odd. But as I think about it, I realize I haven't had my period in a while.
I shake my head. "I guess the stress and weight loss have caused me to stop having one."
"Or you're pregnant."
My jaw drops. “Why would you say that?"
"Well, you're exhausted, you're feeling nauseous, and maybe the big point is that you had sex.”
"Yeah, but?—"
"I never asked you about the details because you seemed okay and wanted to move on. But… did he use a condom?"
"No, but he… you know… none of the stuff went in me." My cheeks flush. Kate is my best friend, but I still don’t want to discuss what happened that night. Not because it traumatized me, because it didn’t. It’s embarrassing to talk about.
Kate arches a brow. "Are you saying his penis wasn't inside you, or that he didn't come in you?"
Moments like this make me feel so stupid. They highlight how sheltered and ignorant I really am. "He pulled out."
She reaches out and takes my hand. "That's not foolproof, Elena. I'm sorry, maybe we should've talked about this more before you did this."
I'm trying not to panic but it's difficult. "He didn't finish in me."
"But sometimes before that happens, there’s still a little bit of semen. It helps lubricate everything."
Humiliation and embarrassment mix with my panic.
"Listen, I picked up a pregnancy test because I was worried about you. You should take it."
I shake my head. “No. I don’t want to.”
"Then take it with you. Once you’re away from your family, if you don't feel better, take it. Just to be sure."
She rises from the couch and disappears down her short hallway. She reemerges a few moments later with a box. "All the directions are there. You just need to pee on it and wait a few minutes."
"I'm not pregnant." Still, I take the box.
I head home wondering how I'm going to get a passport and a pregnancy test into the house. No one goes through my things when I get home as a matter of course, but it is something my father could order to be done at any time. He’d done it to my sister.
Before I walk in the house, I remove the test and instructions from the box and shove it into the package that my passport is in. Then I hide both under my shirt, held in place by the waistband of my jeans. I'm glad I wore a tunic top today to cover it up.
I make it to my room and hide the items under the mattress of my bed. This time of night, anyone can check on me and I don’t want to be caught hiding them in my closet. I go to the bathroom and find the phone I’d hidden behind my toilet, deciding to keep it and money separate. If I lost one, I’d have the other. With the door closed, I turn on the shower and then sit in the corner and with shaking hands, call my sister.
“Pronto.”
“Luce?”
There’s a pause. “Elena?”
