by Lara Swann
“Ooh…” I call back, suddenly intrigued. “You got a date?”
She comes back a few minutes later, plate in hand, and snorts at the interest in my expression.
“Yeah, not likely. Just dinner and drinks with a couple of friends from work.”
“Interesting friends, or boring friends?” I ask.
Sometimes she insists on calling people friends even when she doesn’t particularly like them.
“Interesting ones.” She grins. “We’re thinking of going back to that club, you know. Think I can pick up the sort of action you did?”
“’Course you can. Though…” I glance around the apartment. I’ve tried to air it out and all, but… “You might want to go back to his place if you do.”
She laughs. “Yeah, I already worked that one out, thanks.”
I dig into the PB&J sandwich as she tries a dozen outfits on in front of me and ignores all of my opinions, the good natured banter flying back and forth as we do.
“You really do look better, Ava.” She says, after finally settling on one. “A little tired, maybe, but you’ve got your sparkle back. Even more sparkle, if you ask me - must’ve been that sex I still need to hear about, huh?”
This time, the comment makes me blush. The way I’ve been thinking about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if she can see it in my face.
“Maybe.” I say, feeling unexpectedly shy about it all of a sudden.
She laughs. “Tomorrow, babe. You’ve gotta tell me tomorrow.”
“Will do.” I smile again, but I’m too distracted by the images now flashing through my mind to meet her gaze.
“Okay, gotta go.”
“Good luck.” I say, then call as she disappears through the front door. “Hopefully I won’t see you until tomorrow!”
I finish the PB&J…and then go hunting for another one. I don’t know when they got so good. Maybe all the dining out in NYC has made me crave something simple and homemade or something.
Then I settle in for a little more work - just to make up for missing this morning - feeling relieved to know I’ll be going back in tomorrow.
At least, until I wake up the next morning feeling damn nauseous again.
“What the fuuuck…” I groan, even as I dart toward the bathroom.
This is getting really fucking ridiculous now.
I hesitate for the longest time over texting Tina, clinging to the hope the nausea will suddenly disappear again and I’ll be able to go in - until it gets to the moment I know even if I left immediately, I’d still be late.
I’m not sure what’s worse - being sick, or being late? The latter just makes it seem like I don’t care.
Reluctantly, I send her yet another message saying I’m still sick. This time, the answer I get back doesn’t make me feel any better at all.
Tina: Sorry to hear that, Ava, are you sure you’re okay? This thing sounds nasty. Do you think maybe you should get it checked out? Just in case it’s something else?
I groan. Sure, because I definitely have the insurance for that.
Some part of me wants to panic that she’s going to start wanting proof I’m actually sick.
What if she thinks I’m just trying to get out of work?
I try to tell myself she won’t, but it’s damn hard to believe right now. It takes me a long time to work out what to send back.
Me: Thanks, Tina, that’s a good idea - if it continues, I’ll definitely get it checked out. I’ll try to come online to work today, too, if I start feeling better later on again.
Tina: Sure thing, but don’t push yourself. We’re doing okay here.
I bite my lip when I get that response. I know I’m reading too much into it, but that just screams ‘it’s okay, we’ve worked out we don’t really need you’. I think that makes me feel more sick than this stupid bug I’ve got and I spend most of the morning trying to get the nausea under control enough to get back to work.
It’s hard, but by the afternoon - and with another PB&J sandwich - it starts to get better.
Until Vicki walks in to see me lying on the couch again and everything goes downhill from there.
“You didn’t go into work today.” She says it in a very unimpressed statement, folding her arms as she looks at me from the doorway.
It sounds stern, but I can read the worry there immediately.
“No.” I grumble, then my voice picks up as I start complaining. “I was sick again this morning. I can’t believe it, Vicki, it’s getting ridiculous. When have you ever heard of food poisoning lasting four days?!”
“I don’t think I have.” She says, then her expression eases up all of a sudden, becoming almost cautious. “Ava…you say no one else is sick?”
“They don’t seem to be.” I sigh, biting my lip. “D’you think that makes it look like I’m faking or something? I’m really worried about what they’re going to start thinking of me and—”
“Ava.” Vicki interrupts, and there’s something in her tone I immediately don’t like.
She comes to sit on the end of the couch, moving my feet over to the inside as she looks at me carefully.
“Listen…don’t take this the wrong way, but…you’ve been sick every morning for four days, right?”
“Yeahh…”
“When was the last time you had your period?”
“Oh,” I wave a hand dismissively. “I use the pill to control—”
I freeze. I suddenly realize what she’s talking about.
“No.” I say immediately. “No, no, no. It’s not that. It can’t be. I just said - I’m on the pill. And besides, all that was a week ago. No one gets sick within a week. I mean, maybe it’s not food poisoning, but it’ll just be bug I picked up in New York.”
The denials roll off my tongue easily, my brain working overtime to find all the reasons why that’s completely impossible.
“And the first time?” She continues, holding my gaze. “Were you on the pill then?”
“Yes.” I say immediately.
I’ve been on the pill for as long as I can remember.
But I’m starting to panic anyway.
Did I miss a couple of days? Could I have? Maybe?
Did I stop being quite so careful after I split with Jackson? Is that even possible?
Ohh god…
“I think.” I add, my eyes darting to Vicki’s in panic. “I mean, I’m sure I was. I have to have been. It can’t—I can’t—”
I’m starting to breathe faster now. It’s a stupid thought. There’s no way it’s true. But if it is—oh, god, if it is—
“Okay, okay, relax. Calm down, Ava.” Vicki says, coming to sit beside me and wrapping one arm around my shoulder.
For once, her eyes are serious as they meet mine, though it’s not enough to still the tremor running through my body.
“There’s only one way to be sure.”
I swallow hard. “I can’t be, Vicki, I can’t.”
“Let’s just…find out, okay?”
I swallow again, but I finally nod.
“I’ll be back in five, okay? You alright here?”
I nod again, though I’m not sure I am.
She darts out the front door and I’m left just staring after her, not wanting to think about what she’s gone to get.
I tell myself it’s just to make sure. Just to confirm what I already know - that I can’t possibly be pregnant. That would just be—be—too much. I can’t have screwed up in that many ways.
Can I?
Vicki bursts through the door and I’m already out of my seat, nerves and anxiety racing through me far worse than any of the nausea did. I think I feel that too - nausea - but I’m not sure if I’m imagining it now. I’m not sure if I’m imagining that place inside me, where—
Stop it, Ava!
“Here.”
She thrusts a bundle of things at me, slightly out of breath, and I glance down. Three pregnancy tests. Three?!
“You wouldn’t believe it if it was just one.”
She answers before I can ask it. “Either way.”
Our eyes meet each other for a moment, both wide-eyed and obviously terrified.
“Okay…okay. Just so we know it’s…not that.”
I take them, take a deep breath and disappear into the bathroom.
“You want me in there too, babe?” Vicki calls from outside the door, just as I’m slipping my jeans down my waist.
She’s seen far more than that before, but…
“No.” I call back. “Give me a minute.”
It takes me a moment to even be able to use the damn things, nerves making it impossible to relax - but after what feels like forever, I get what I need.
I lay the damned things on the bathroom counter and wash my hands before I call out to Vicki.
“Okay. Okay, I’m…”
I don’t even have to finish it before she’s in there with me, staring at the line of tests I can’t bare to look at. I make it about thirty seconds before I can’t stand it anymore.
“I can’t—” I break away from her and rush back into the living room, pacing up and down as I try not to think.
She comes back out to join me, the tests clutched in her hand, and I shake my head.
“This is stupid. I shouldn’t be worried. This isn’t going to be a thing, Vicki.” I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to convince myself. “This whole thing will probably just be—hilarious—when they come back negative. We’ll just laugh and—and—”
“And you’ll fucking kill me for putting you through it?” She gives me a shaky grin.
“Yeah, that too.” I do laugh at that. “Yeah, it’s all going to be alright. I mean, I told you, it’s just some sickness bug.”
“Uhuh.”
We look at each other for another few beats.
“How long has it been?” I ask, after what seems like forever.
“A couple of minutes.”
She walks over, holding out the tests between us so that we can see the results and this time I can’t help but stare.
“See?” I say, taking a deep breath. “Nothing.”
Vicki chews her bottom lip. “Let’s just wait a little longer, I’m not sure it’s been enough time to…”
Her voice trails off and I follow her gaze back to the test - where a faint vertical line is slowly appearing, the symbol turning into a ‘+’.
Everything in me seems to freeze all at once, pure panic racing through me.
“No.” I shake my head, my voice barely audible. “No, no, it’s wrong. It can’t be, Vicki. It can’t.”
The line only gets stronger though - and then one by one the other tests follow the same pattern.
“Oh god. Oh no. Oh, Vicki…”
I raise my wide, terrified eyes to my best friend, just staring at her. As if somehow she can fix this in the same way she’s always managed to fix my problems before. As if this whole crazy situation can somehow just vanish if I stop thinking about it. If I refuse to believe it.
“Ava…” Her voice is a soft murmur - and somehow it’s enough to break through the dam of total disbelief within me.
“Nooo…”
I sink to the couch with my head in my hands, my breathing going out of control as I try to understand the magnitude of what’s just happened, everything within me roiling and tumbling nauseatingly.
“I can’t…how did this happen, Vicki? I’ve had sex twice in the last half-year. I’ve been taking the pill for years and now all of a sudden—oh my god.” I look up at her. “Vicki. I wasn’t trying to get pregnant. If it happened that first time, then…I’ve been taking the pill for a month while I’m pregnant. What if that does something—what if that’s not safe for—for—what if—”
My hands drop subconsciously to my stomach as I look at her.
She blinks at the sudden switch of focus then shakes her head. “I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t make them that way. I’m sure loads of people do that before they know they’re pregnant and—”
“But—” I can’t stop the out-of-control thoughts, or the sudden worry I have.
“Okay, okay. If you’re not going to stop thinking about it, let’s just look it up then.” She whips out her phone, typing furiously and after a moment raises her head to look at me. “Are you on the mini-pill?”
“No…no, I don’t think so.”
“Then you’re definitely all fine. See? They wouldn’t make it not safe. And I mean, c’mon Ava, of all the things to be worrying about…I’d be more scared about how much wine I might have had without knowing—”
Her head raises to stare at me for a moment and I freeze all over again.
Oh god. Have I done that? Have I been drinking?
“Oh shit…Ava…you were just in New York. Were you…” Vicki hesitates and I close my eyes as I try to think.
“N-no…I think. I think I’m okay. After the crazy hangover you gave me and then this job…I wanted to make a good impression. I didn’t dare risk getting drunk, I think.”
I let out a slow breath, suddenly more grateful than I can say for my usual over-cautiousness. Well, that, and being slightly worried what alcohol and being around Damien might lead to.
Not that avoiding alcohol helped with that.
“Okay, okay good.” She takes a deep breath and slowly lowers herself to perch on the coffee table in front of me. “So…”
The slight change in tone makes me look up, something inside me tensing at the way she’s looking at me.
“…you’re keeping it then?” Her voice is quiet, and more serious than I think I’ve ever heard her.
“W-what?”
“Well, since you got so worried that you might have harmed it somehow…that wouldn’t make sense if you just were going to…”
I blink, my hands clenching tighter around my stomach.
I hadn’t thought about that. I was just…reacting.
“I-I…” I stare at her, everything crashing down around me as the realization washes over me again. It seems to keep doing that. Even though I know now, even though we’re talking about it and I’m thinking about it, somehow it keeps hitting me over and over again. “I don’t know.”
But even as I say it, my mind is already charging ahead, adrenaline making it impossible not to think - and it spills out of my mouth as I think it.
“I mean, I can’t keep it, Vicki. I—I can barely take care of myself. I’m not ready. It’s not right - not fair to the…the…” I can’t bring myself to say it, the idea of what’s inside me now still too much to say out loud. “I wouldn’t be able to—to give it what—what it needs.”
I’m already thinking about that. All the things it would need. The money and stability I just don’t have.
“But I don’t think—” I swallow, knowing as I say it just how true it is. “I couldn’t just…well…do that. I don’t think I could live with myself if I—”
I don’t even say the words. I can’t.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
I lower my head back into my hands again, my breath shuddering out of me.
Vicki comes to sit beside me, rubbing my back in slow circles and I lean into her, tears pricking at my eyes.
“How did I screw this up too, Vicki? I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, I don’t know whether I’m even going to have a job after this project is over, I live with my parents and crash on your couch…I thought this was my low point. This was the worst I could fuck up. And now I get pregnant? Alone, with no way to support it, no one to—to—”
It comes out as a sob and I curl up against her as I finally start crying, the weight of just how badly I’ve fucked up my life hitting me hard.
“I—I can’t k-keep it.”
I say it again and somehow that makes my cry all the harder.
“And I can’t—I can’t—I’m going to have to—to put it up for—for adoption, or something.” I finally gasp. “To—to a family that can actually give it what—what it needs.”
And that’s not me. Ho
w can it be? How can I ever be good enough for a baby when this is what my life is like? Just one disaster after another.
“Okay, okay…” Vicki says, stroking my back and trying to soothe me. “You’ll work it out, Ava - we both will. It’s a shock right now, but you’re not alone with this - whatever you decide to do. You’ve got me, and your parents—”
I swivel to look at her as the thought of that suddenly rocks through me.
“Oh my god, Vicki.” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t tell them.”
“What? They’ve always been supportive, Ava—”
“I know.” I say, most of the sound catching in my throat. “They’ve been lovely the last few months - but I can’t tell them I’ve somehow screwed this up too. Not after everything else. I can just imagine what they’d think and I can’t bear it - the pity, the concern, the quiet realization that this is how their daughter has turned out, despite everything they’ve given me. And…and…oh my god, they’d be heartbroken if I give it up, it’s their—their—grandchild. Fuck. Oh, Vicki, fuck fuck fuck. I can’t tell them.”
“All right, okay babe.” She says, her voice soft and warm and more comforting than I think I ever remember hearing it. Or maybe that’s just because that’s what I need to hear right now. “You’ve got time, okay? You don’t need to worry about everything at once. We’ll just…take it slow…and it will be alright, okay?”
I think I’m this close to hyperventilating, and only the thought that maybe that’s not good for the baby growing inside me has me fighting to stay calm.
I mean, how am I supposed to know what’s good for it? Or what I might do wrong? I’m not ready to be growing something inside me, that’s too much responsibility and I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. I’m just going to screw it up.
“That’s it. It’s okay. Don’t worry about all that now.”
I don’t realize Vicki is still talking to me until the soothing sound of her voice starts getting through, my breathing slowly easing.
She doesn’t mention how impossible it’s going to be not to see my parents for the next nine months. Or anyone else. Oh shit—everyone else.
“Vicki!” I gasp suddenly. “How am I going to—everyone’s going to know. I thought I was so close to making a good impression—to finally getting a job—but now I’m going to have to admit I’m single and pregnant and—and—it’s going to change everything.”
