Page 120 of Pieces

By the time I reach the lecture hall, I’m panting like I just ran a marathon. Two minutes to spare.Thank God.

Sliding into my seat, I set my bag down carefully and try to catch my breath. The professor glances up from his desk, raising an eyebrow as I settle in, but he doesn’t say anything. The room is eerily silent.

As I pull out my pencil and calculator, my hands tremble slightly. This is it. Time to prove I can still juggle calculus and a baby bump.

The test begins, and for a while, I’m lost in the familiar rhythm of equations and problem-solving. It’s almost comforting, the way math has its own rules and logic—a kind of order that’s been missing from my life lately. But then the baby shifts, a sudden kick catching me right in the ribs, and I nearly drop my pencil.

“Alright, alright,” I whisper under my breath, pressing a hand to my belly.

The student next to me glances over curiously, but I ignore them. Let them think I’m crazy. They don’t know what it’s like to have a tiny dictator taking up residence in your abdomen.

When the test finally ends, I let out a shaky breath of relief. My back aches, my feet throb, and I’m pretty sure I bombed the last question, but it’s over. I’ve got one more to do on my list today and then I’m headed to my baby shower which feels so crazy. Hudson is coming over later too; he said he has something exciting to tell me, so today is going to be a good day.

But first, I need to make my way to Professor Vance’s office.

As I make my way around the hallways, my belly feels heavy, so I use my hands to support it as I move. Rounding the corner, I spot her nameplate gleaming on the door. I knock twice and wait, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Inside, I hear a muffled, “Come in!”

I push the door open and step inside. Professor Vance looks up from her laptop, her sharp, dark eyes lighting up when she sees me. Her office is a controlled chaos of books, sticky notes, and color-coded calendars plastered across the walls.

“Daphne!” she says, standing and gesturing for me to take a seat. “How was the calculus final? It was calculus you said in your email, right?”

I give her a small smile, lowering myself carefully into the chair. “Brutal, but survivable. I gave it my all.”

She nods, folding her arms across her chest. “I have no doubt. You’ve got that grit I wish I could bottle and sell to the rest of the class.”

Her words make me laugh, but the thing about her saying them is that I believe them. I’m grateful she sees that in me. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something. I know I was vague in my email, but…”

I swallow hard, suddenly nervous. “Go on.”

“My TA is graduating, and…I was wondering if you’d consider signing on for the position next year. I know you’ll have the baby, and that’s going to complicate things, but I really think this would work”

“Me?” I slap my palm to my chest.

She laughs. “You’re one of the most proactive students I’ve had the pleasure of teaching, and you’re a natural leader. The waves you’re creating with your campaign for women in sports is sensational. The baby doesn’t change that. If anything, it makes me even more impressed with you. I’m happy to work around your schedule. Flexibility is part of the job, and you’ve already proven you can juggle more than most.”

I exhale a shaky breath. “Thank you. That means…more than I can say.”

She smiles again, her sharp edges softening. “Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself too. You’re no good to the PR world, or your baby, if you run yourself into the ground.”

I nod, a grin tugging at my lips. “Deal.”

I’m about to stand and thank her again, when a sudden, sharp pressure grips my abdomen. My breath catches, and I press a hand to my belly, leaning forward.

“Daphne?” Professor Vance leaps to her feet. “Are you alright?”

Before I can answer, a warm gush of fluid soaks through my leggings, and my eyes go wide. Oh. Oh no.

I look up at her, panic rising in my chest. “I think… I think my water just broke.”

For a second, she freezes, her eyes darting to my stomach. Then she springs into action, grabbing her phone from the desk. “Okay. Don’t panic. Do you have someone to call? Hudson, right? Call him, and I’ll make a call too.”

Nodding quickly, I fumble for my phone as another wave of pressure rolls through me. My fingers tremble as I pull up Hudson’s number and hit call. It rings and rings, but there’s no answer. No, no, why now. I need him to answer.

It goes to voicemail, so I leave a short one, asking him to call me immediately.

Surely this is too early, right? I still have four weeks to go, or more. Panic begins to grip the edges of my vision.

Professor Vance hangs up her own phone and turns back to me. “Campus security is sending someone to escort you to the hospital.”

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