Picture Us (Turn it Up Book 3)

by Natalie Parker

  “Annie?” Emma’s worried voice is the first one I can acknowledge after the dizzy spell. She’s squatting beside me, rubbing my back. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Just got dizzy for a second there.” And I’m a bit embarrassed. There are eight other dancers in this room and I just fell down on my ass. Cool.

  After the class wraps and I’ve drunk some water, I feel normal again. Despite Emma’s protest, I decline a ride home. What the fuck is wrong with me? I don’t think I’m coming down with anything. I ate a decent breakfast, and sure, I’m a little stressed, but no more than usual. Maybe I should have my thyroid checked. I think of all the possible things that could be making me feel so rundown and/or causing dizzy spells as I drive through town heading home. My periods have always been a little irregular but I get one every month for the most part and… wait. When was my last one? I don’t remember. It’s November now, so…

  Shit.

  While I’m not sure when my last one was, it’s been longer than a month. I didn’t have one in October; I know that much. Oh my God, how could I be that preoccupied that I didn’t notice Aunt Flo hadn’t visited? I mean, she tends to show up whenever she damn well feels like it - but she shows up.

  Tired. Dizzy. No period.

  Noooo….

  Can’t be. I’ve had sex with one person in eight months and we used condoms. This has to be a change in seasons or something. I mean, what are the chances? We were together one night and we were safe. The likelihood is, well, not likely.

  Nope. That’s not it. No way. I dismiss the thought. Adios.

  Not ten minutes later, I let myself into my house, drop my bag and make a beeline for my bedroom. I track my period on the calendar on the wall by my mirror. We’re in the first week of November… I take the page down and look at October. Nothing marked. September… there’s nothing marked but I know I had one, I remember it. It was sometime in the last week of the month, I know it. So… oh, God.

  I’ve been late before, but not this late. I feel my face go hot and I feel queasy. I start to pace by the calendar. Images of my night with Tyler start to zoom through my head from different directions. We used a condom. Every time. Did one not work? Did none of them work? Oh… fuck.

  I fan myself with my hands as I continue to pace. I know condoms fail sometimes, but not usually. And I am most definitely part of the ‘usually’ crowd. I stop moving as a thought hits me: This just has to be ruled out. That’s all there is to it. I will take a test, it will be negative, and then I can move on to other possibilities of what could be going on. I will go to the doctor and it will get figured out. It will probably be something dumb like low Vitamin-D levels or something. I turn and storm back to the front of the house, on a mission. I snatch my purse up from the kitchen table as I pass by and slam the door behind me.

  Half an hour later, I’m close to hyperventilating in my bathroom as I stare at two pink lines that have appeared on the stick I just peed on. I check and double check the instructions. Unfortunately, they’re pretty moron-proof. I feel hot and flushed again, so I splash some cold water on my face before patting it dry and shuffling out of the bathroom.

  In the kitchen, I sip some cold water and try to talk myself down. That second pink line was kind of faint…

  I grab my purse and head out the door a second time.

  Welp. Here I am, all knocked-up and… somewhere to go. As you may have guessed, by the fourth test I peed on, the shock started to wear off and I’m using humor to deflect. It’s what I need to do to keep from losing my mind until I can talk to Mayzie and let myself fall apart over the phone with her. I’m still rattled, but the hyperventilating and near pass-outs have ceased. But I figure the first two people who should know about a pregnancy are the two people involved. One down. Now to see Señor Sperm Donor and let him know that his boys are in ship-shape. Screw that. Seeing as how we used condoms, they’re actually overachievers.

  I’m now picturing cartoon tadpoles barreling through my canal with fists raised in the air. “Ain’t no latex that can stop us boys! Woo-hoo!!” Fuckers.

  Oh, dear God in Heaven. I’m losing it, and I can’t lose it now. Later is better. I change into some jeans and slip on the boots that are sitting near the front door and head to my car.

  In the car, I blast music to try and detract from the jitters fluttering throughout my body while I anxiously drum my fingers against the steering wheel.

  When I reach The Cedar, I kill the engine and the radio and am greeted by deafening silence. I can practically hear my own nerves buzzing throughout my body and my heartbeat is swooshing in my ears as I take in a deep breath and slowly let it out. When I step out of the car, I swear the street is silent, as if the universe wants nothing more than for me to marinate in the suspense.

  I get another surge of anxiety when I see Tyler’s sweet-ass car parked in the alley alongside the building. A flashback to riding shotgun with his hand on my bare thigh flickers through my mind and it triggers an onslaught of emotions. Arousal between my legs battles it out with the butterflies throwing a rave in my chest as I continue towards the entrance.

  I stop for just a second, maybe two, holding onto the handle of the heavy wooden door before forcing myself to yank it open and walk inside. It’s mid-afternoon, and there are only a handful of patrons scattered throughout the place as I stroll hesitantly between the tables and scan the room for Tyler.

  I notice a… kid? Young man? He looks up at me from a recently vacated table nearby. This is a bar so I presume he must be twenty-one at least if he’s working here. He’s extremely young and scrawny looking in loose clothing with a white apron tied around his waist, as he clears empty dishes and glasses into a busser tub.

  “Can I help you with something?” he asks as I get closer. Holy Moses, his voice matches his waif-like physique perfectly.

  “Yeah, I’m looking for your manager,” I say, stopping in front of him.

  “Oh…” he looks taken aback as he stands up straight. “Is there something wrong? Were you not happy with -?”

  “Oh, no. I don’t have a complaint; I just need to talk to him.” I square my shoulders, trying to ignore the lump sitting at the base of my throat.

  A look of realization comes over the busser’s face before morphing into one of… cockiness?

  “So, this is a social visit?” he asks, smirking. Okay, apparently there’s something I’m not in on here, but I really don’t have it in me to care.

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Anyway, can I please see Tyler?” Just saying his name out loud gives me crazy squirrels in my stomach. I take another deep breath.

  “Listen,” he starts in, like he’s all of a sudden, the suavest em-effer on the planet and he’s about to drop some knowledge on my ass. “That won’t be happening. Our manager doesn’t see his lady friends while he’s here at the bar. Coming in to sniff around the boss is not allowed, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” For fucks sake, I don’t have time for this power-trip bullshit.

  “And… who are you? And does he know you’re doing this?” I drop my chin in disbelief at what this twerp is spewing.

  “Colton. And yeah, of course,” he confirms looking oh so self-assured. “He says his lady friends are forbidden here, so whatever you thought you had with him, and I’m sure it was magical, it’s over now. It’s best if you just accept that it’s done now and… scoot.” He makes a dismissive wave of his hand towards the door that turns slow and hesitant when he takes in my death glare. Oh my God; Tyler has a lapdog.

  While he’s pissing me off, on completely the wrong day, fortunately this baby busser doesn’t seem to be the sharpest tool in the box. I school my expression to one of surprise as I glance over his shoulder.

  “Oh hey, Tyler!” I say enthusiastically, looking perky as can be. Sure enough, screw-boy falls for it and looks over his shoulder while I swerve behind his back and make my way speedily around him and cut a line through the tables straight to the back of
the bar where I’ve seen Tyler come out from before. I hear the dinkus fumbling behind me.

  “What? Huh? Hey! Wait-shit!” I hear a glass shatter on the floor, and while the brash noise makes me cringe, I don’t look back as I storm my way through a back hallway in search of Tyler’s office.

  I stare at the computer screen trying to focus on the schedule, but I’m still a pathetic, twisted mess over what to do with myself and this thing with Annie.

  After my therapy session with Dr. Juan the other night, I’ve concluded that if I were to see where the possibility of a relationship could go with someone, she’d be the one. For some reason, I can just picture it so easily. How to approach her about it is the part that has me beating my head against a wall. If I had her number, I would shoot her a text or even call her and gently suggest we get together, just so we can talk. I’ve been considering getting ahold of Jack to get her number from Mayzie, but I’m wondering if that would be too underhanded.

  I’m still going back and forth as a combination of sudden noises jars me from my thoughts.

  “Oh, come ON!” I hear Colton’s barely post-pubescent voice protest to someone, followed by hard, authoritative footsteps coming down the corridor towards my office. It’s the sound only a woman on a mission can make. One that’s pissed. Yeah, I know, because I’ve pissed off a few.

  I swivel in my chair to face the open door, ready to address whoever is headed back here, completely unprepared for who I’m about to see. Because who appears in the door makes my heart beat like crazy and my head start to spin. It’s been a long, painful month of seeing her in my dreams and my fantasies but not in real life, and now here she is, right in front of me. I immediately stand, completely dumbfounded at how happy I am to see her. She has not left my mind like they all eventually do. At the gym, here at work, in my shower… she’s there.

  She’s gorgeous in her tight, faded jeans, a black hoodie and her hair in a thick ponytail. Colton trails behind her, stammering something about being sorry and he tried not to let her come back here. I open my mouth to say something to her but she beats me to it.

  “Hey Jackass!” Her tone is disparaging and cynical. “I’m pregnant.” The words hang in the space between us, right in front of my face in big block letters, as I stare right through them at her. I don’t think I’m breathing. I feel no air going in and out of my chest. I’m not blinking either. Her lips part and she raises an eyebrow. Her chest rises as she draws in a breath. She’s waiting for a response, and I can tell she’s not going to wait long. I manage to close my mouth and swallow but cannot form a single word. I think this is called shock.

  What follows is the most mind-blowing, alluring about-face I’ve ever seen. It starts with a roll of her eyes. Then her head swerves to the side making her hair swing. Her shoulders follow in the same direction, and then finally her hips. With her back to me she struts out of the bar, her heels clunking and her sweet ass swaying with each step. The same ass I was thrusting against a month ago.

  Fuck. Not the time. She just said she’s…

  I don’t know how much time passes as I stand with my back against the closed door in my office, my face in my hands.

  I’m freaking out, thanks. How are you?

  She’s pregnant. She’s pregnant. She’s fucking pregnant.

  Confession time. This isn’t the first time someone I’ve been with has told me that. There have been two other times, and both were ploys to keep me around longer while the women figured out another way to hook me. I know this because in both scenarios, the woman fessed up. When I offered to go to the doctor with one of them, she owned up right away. The other one, we actually made it all the way to the doctor’s office before she finally came out with the truth.

  But Annie… she hasn’t been trying to pin me down at all. We had our night, saw each other when she took the bar photos and I haven’t seen her since. Hell, she didn’t even want us to have each other’s phone numbers. She’s the fish I finally caught and released, scratch that - she jumped back in the fucking water before I could release her, and then spent the better part of a month searching the waters again because catching her made me that fucking happy.

  Yes, she’s looking to be in a relationship, but she’s not interested in getting that by forcing someone into one, especially not like this. That girl’s got way too much respect for herself to resort to that.

  She isn’t lying. I know she isn’t. But we used protection. Could she be mistaken? I doubt it. I need to talk to her. I have to be on the same page; to know all that she knows, have all the facts.

  I’m scared shitless. I am so fucking scared. Not an emotion I’m used to having. I live my life with everything mapped out, no surprises, in control of everything. To have something feel so out of control shakes me up pretty bad. But I can control what I do next, how I move forward. I can plan and control that.

  I’m going to take five more minutes to get my shit together, and then I’m going to go to her so we can talk. I may not have her number, but I remember where she lives.

  9

  Now that I’ve told the other person involved and he reacted pretty much how I predicted he would, I can call Mayzie and she can freak out with me. God, I need to freak out. I’ve been holding myself together since the moment I found out, just long enough to get to Tyler, and I’m sure the commitaphobe is planning his escape from the planet right about now.

  I did the right thing and informed him, and now, I need to talk to someone who knows me inside and out and will drop everything to talk through it with me. Someone who will know just what to say to me to talk me off the ledge. I let myself into my house, ditch my shoes and head over to my couch with my phone to settle in and call my best friend in the world. And then I catch the time on my phone and remember that she and the band are at some stuffy charity event tonight that she doesn’t even want to be at.

  Shit. She can’t talk to me while she’s there. I toss my phone on the coffee table and blow out a breath while I look around my living room for something to comfort me. I need to lose my shit, I just don’t want to do it alone, and it’s so quiet and lonely in here. I hold my knees to my chest and rock gently a few times before my eyes land on the teakettle on the stove in the kitchen. A mug of tea and a movie it is…

  “That little pink plus sign is so unholy,” Juno says from my TV screen. Solidarity, sister. I’m just starting my second movie when there’s a knock at my door. I pause the movie and pull the blanket off my legs. I’m a single woman living alone and not expecting anyone, so I put the chain lock on and cautiously open the door to see Tyler leaning against my door frame. I didn’t think his dark eyes could be any darker, but they are almost black as night; his expression both tired and pleading.

  “Can we talk?” he asks gently.

  I’m seriously so caught off guard by his visit that I forget my words. A few seconds tick by before I snap out of my stupor and nod my head while I close the door to unhook the chain and step aside, letting him walk in. I head back over to the couch and pick up the remote to turn the TV completely off.

  “Do you want to sit?” I ask him, gesturing a hand at the couch and overstuffed armchair before sitting on one end of the couch. To my surprise, he walks over and joins me, sitting only a respectful distance away; just enough so that we can see each other clearly. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees and nervously rubs his hands together.

  “So…” he starts off, staring down at his hands. He takes a minute, and I can see he’s struggling with what to say and how to say it. His shoulders shift, and he rubs the bridge of his nose before huffing out a deep breath and finally bringing his eyes up to mine. “Can you maybe… walk me through this? Tell me what… that, back at the bar, was all about?” He lets out another breath, and it comes out shaky. I never thought I’d see a guy like him so unhinged. I think to me, he was never going to be anything but the calm, confident, suave flirt. I take in a breath of my own before tucking my knees up and wrapping an arm around the
m.

  “Yeah… I haven’t been feeling great for the last week or so. In fact I got dizzy earlier today at dance and slipped. When I realized I missed a period, I took a test. Seven of them, actually.”

  “Seven pregnancy tests?” he retorts with a tilt of his head. I fix him with my best deadpan expression.

  “With information of this magnitude, would you have preferred I just kept it to one and took that one for its word?”

  “But seven?”

  “Really? This is what you’re fixated on?”

  “Right,” he holds his hands up before dropping them between his knees again. “So… that’s pretty… affirming… that this is happening.” He looks at the floor again. “So… I guess the next question is what do we do next? Where do we go from here?”

  “Well, I am going to go see my doctor and confirm everything and get more information, and find out what steps to take. You… you can do whatever you want.”

  “What does that mean?” His eyes are wide when they come back up to meet mine.

  “It means I’m not after anything from you. You’re not obligated to have a part in this. I’m the one it’s happening to.” I look down at my knees. The wind has definitely left my sails from when I charged into his office earlier. He can walk away from this. Me, not so much. This is my body. I have to deal with it one way or another.

  “Wait,” he protests, sitting up straighter and holds his hands out. “Hold the fuck on here…”

  “What the hell do you mean, you’re the one this is happening to? That I don’t have to have a part in it? I already have a part in this, in case you forgot.” My voice sounds snider than I mean it to. I’m just taken aback that she’d say this is all on her.

  “I mean it’s my body, and I’m the one that has to move forward here,” she says looking down. I’ve never seen this boisterous woman looking so deflated. “I can’t exactly walk away from it.”