Page 109 of Puck Princess

I cackle, but he quiets me with a kiss that has me debating canceling on Kennedy yet again.

“I think you should just give me the envelope.” Kennedy says, swirling a glass of merlot as we wait for our food. “Safe keeping you know? So you can’t peek.”

“I’m allowed to peek,” I tell her, sipping on my lemon water. “I’m allowed to find out whenever I want. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Which is why I should hold onto it until you decide. Otherwise, it’s going to burn a hole in your pocket until, one day, one of you is just going to rip it open. And bam! Surprise ruined.”

“I like to think we have more self-control than that.”

Kennedy nearly chokes on her wine. “Self-control? You and Owen? Honey, don’t take this the wrong way, but you wouldn’t be where you are right now if either of you had an ounce of self-control.”

“There isn’t a right way to take that.”

“Just give me the envelope so you can have your big surprise on delivery day. Or we could do a gender reveal at the baby shower!”

“Whose baby shower?”

“Yours! Who else would I be throwing a—” The realization hits, and she goes scarily quiet for a few beats before she explodes. “Don’t tell me you don’t want a baby shower! There will be food and gifts and stupid games like making men eat melted candy bars off diapers! You’re having one!”

I bite my lip.

“Callie,” she groans. “You’re ruining this for me!”

“Am I having a baby or are you?”

“I just mean— I feel like you guys need a baby shower. And I need to throw it for you. Summer and I could plan it together! It will be fun.”

“It would be fun,” I say, going quiet until the waitress sets our food down and leaves. “If I was ready to tell people.”

She points at my stomach with enough flare she might as well shine a spotlight on it. “You can’t possibly pretend you are still keeping it from people.”

“I mean, I’m trying to.” I pop an olive in my mouth.

“But people know. You know they know, right?”

“Not everyone.”

Kennedy picks the onions off her salad before drenching the whole thing in a gallon of ranch dressing. “Callie, people know. And if they don’t, they’re at least suspicious. You look amazing… for a pregnant woman.”

I gasp, but she only shrugs. Kennedy is a truth teller, even when it hurts.

“Who are you even hiding it from?” she asks.

I don’t like saying his name out loud, so I don’t. But my silence is enough.

“Spencer? Cal, he might look stupid and act stupid, but he isn’t actually stupid. There’s no way he doesn’t have a Google alert on your name, like the creepy creep he is.”

“That’s why I don’t want him toknowknow. He’d lose his shit and it would be one more thing he could hold against me.”

She takes a bite and shakes her head. “I just don’t see why it concerns him that Owen got you pregnant five months ago.”

I sigh, not wanting to admit the words I have to say next. “Because the whole thing that happened with Spencer… happened right before I met Owen…”

Kennedy nods as she chews, absorbing, absorbing… I know the moment it’s sunk in because her fork clatters to the table. “Oh my god! Are you saying there’s a chance he’s?—”

“No!” I say a little too loudly. “No. I had a period after that. But only one. So no, that’s off the table entirely. Everyone except Owen is off the table entirely.”

Take a picture of Kennedy and slap her in the dictionary next to “relieved.”

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