Page 85 of Something that Could Last

This question catches me off guard. I have to think on it a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe around the first or second week of May. They’re so intermittent, I don’t really keep track.” My periods are a little wacky from being a runner and having a history of ovarian cysts. My doctor prescribed birth control, hoping that would help, and it has, but my cycle isn’t entirely regulated yet.

“Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”

“What? No!” I look at her incredulously. “Of course not,” I say with less conviction this time. I begin rolling the possibility around in my mind. “There’s no way. I’m on birth control.” I sound less and less convincing, even to myself. I don’t mention the pregnancy test at the hospital because even though I let myself believe the results were legit, I knew deep down there was no way to tell that soon.

A cold sweat breaks out over my brow. I hadn’t considered this possibility. It’s never evenbeena possibility before. I’ve always been careful. At least, until Jacob. He broke down my defenses and clouded my judgment. All rational thought left me the instant I felt his hands on my body.

My hands start to shake and I feel sick all over again. I drop down in front of the toilet, my knees banging against the floor, and dry heave for a good two minutes, but there’s nothing left. I start to cry and collapse against the bathtub, my shoulders shaking.There’s no way. This can’t be happening. How could I have been so reckless?

“It’s okay.” Tiff wraps her arms around my shoulders and talks to me in a soothing voice. “Calm down.” She pushes the hair out of my face and forces me to look at her. “We don’t know anything for sure yet. You need to take a test.” Her voice is calming, the voice of reason. I nod my head and dry my eyes. She helps me to my feet and leads me back to my bedroom. “I’m going to run to the drug store and buy you one. You haven’t peed yet, have you?” I shake my head no. “Good, first thing in the morning is the best time to test.” How on earth she knows this, I have no idea. Maybe she’s had to do this before. I don’t know. If she has, she never told me.

I’m waiting on pins and needles for her to return. When she does, I rip the plastic bag out of her hand and lock myself in the bathroom. I open the box with shaky fingers and pull a little white stick out and place it on the sink. I stare at it a good ten minutes, even though my bladder feels like it’s about to rupture. I read through the directions. Twice. I finally pull my pants down and sit on the toilet. After a few deep breaths, I manage to relax enough to pee on the stick.

When I’m done, I replace the cap and place it next to the sink. Then I wait. I check my phone a hundred times in three minutes. I don’t look at the test, not even a peek. A knock on the door startles me and I jump.

“Abby.” It’s Tiff. I breathe a sigh of relief. I feared it was my grandmother. “Are you alright in there?” I swing the door open. She takes in my disheveled appearance and the wild look in my eyes.

“I can’t look.”

“Sweetie, you have to.”

“You look for me. I can’t do it.”

“I’m not going to do that,” she answers calmly, rubbing her hands up and down my arms to soothe me. “This may be one of the most important moments of your life. It has to be you.”

That makes sense. She’s right. She’s totally right. Her logic doesn’t make this any easier, though.

I take in several deep, cleansing breaths and try to steel my nerves. My stomach is in knots. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. The next few seconds could completely change the course of my life.

Finally, I force my eyes to the vanity top, and it takes my brain a moment to process what I’m seeing. Tiff catches me as I crumble to the floor. My legs are swept right out from under me by two little blue lines.

The End

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