Page 56 of The First Love Myth

“Oh?” His eyes widen, and I watch as he works through my statement. “And what are we doing?”

“Making out on the couch.”

His eyes darken, excitement and something like nerves playing across his features. It’s cute, really. For some reason my candidness has thrown him off. Is it a good thing or a bad thing that suggesting a make-out session sends him into a tizzy?

He waves down the waitress when she’s done dropping drinks off at Joe’s table. “Can we get this to go, actually? And the check, please?”

Chapter 43

Liz

“Sorry, sorry! I’m here.” Zoey skids into the kitchen, still in her work uniform of mesh shorts and an Ardena Heat T-shirt, a Bellewood cinch bag across her back and her hair in a messy ponytail. Quintessential Zoey.

“Hi,” I say, not looking up from the sandwich I’m making. If I stay focused on it, maybe my sister won’t notice my hands are shaking. I hand her the sandwich and start on a second one. “You really didn’t need to take the afternoon off to come with me.”

“It’s fine,” Zoey says, her eyes taking in the sandwich as if she’s never seen food before. “We lost track of time.”

“Ew.”

“Because of a runner, weirdo.”

It’s probably the truth, but her mischievous smile speaks volumes. And I love it. This is the Zoey I’ve always known—vibrant and exuberant, silly and happy. There’s been little trace of her this summer, the exception being when Haley was here. But her grief seems to be diminishing lately. My sister is evolving into a strong young woman right in front of my eyes. She’s always been resilient; she had no choice. But now she is rising from the ashes of first love. For the first time this summer, I can see the other side and who Zoey might become. It’s beautiful to watch.

“What?” Zoey asks around a bite of sandwich.

“Nothing.”

“Not nothing. You were looking at me all doe-eyed.” She pauses and adds a few more pieces of ham to her sandwich. “Oh,hormones. You were all mothering out on me, weren’t you?”

“Maybe.” I pour some water into a cup. “I like seeing you happy.”

“Famished and sweaty is more accurate, but I guess I’ll take it.” She slides, literally on her socks, out of the kitchen. “Let me change, and then we can go.”

I glance at my watch. “We have to leave in ten minutes.”

Almost ninety minutes later, we sit in an exam room. I decided to stick with my regular gynecologist, which meant the ride was long, but the comfort of a familiar face is worth it. Zoey sits in one of the chairs lining the walls. When I asked her to come, I didn’t think through the whole process or the part where I have to sit here with no pants on. But she’s rallying, chattering on about one thing or the next. I’m honestly not even sure what she’s talking about. It might be mock trial or something to do with her sorority. Either way, there are a lot of acronyms to follow.

A soft knock sounds on the door, and then my gynecologist steps in wearing a smile. One thing I’ve always liked about her is that she seems to remember me even though we only see each other once a year. Usually that means she asks after Julian, but today, she simply nods at my sister and takes a seat.

“Hi, Liz,” Dr. Manning says with a warm smile. “Your test came back positive, so let’s get in there and take a look.”

I nod, but I know that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. “Okay.”

“Do you want your...”

“Sister,” I finish. “And yes, she can stay.”

“All right. You can stand here then.” She positions Zoey behind me near my head. Right where Julian stood last time I was in this situation.

Zoey puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “You got this, Mama.”

“How have you been feeling?” Dr. Manning asks as she readies the wand.

I stare at the ceiling. I hate this part, and I can’t bear to wait for the screen to come to life and possibly dash my dreams. “I haven’t been feeling great, but I’m taking that as a good sign.”

“Yes, an unpleasant one but definitely good.”

Memories of the last time I was here waiting to see my baby flash by—the quiet of the monitor, the baby that wasn’t. It’s too much. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to ignore the cold discomfort. Zoey’s hand tightens on my shoulder.

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