Page 96 of Pieces

Gracie Abrams quietly plays over the speakers in her dorm room, as we laze around together. I worked late last night and had to miss the scrapbook club, and Daphne had a random evening of feeling nauseous again. So we’re taking it easy today.

“Did you know the baby’s the size of an avocado now?” I say, sprawled across her bed, scrolling through my phone with one arm tucked behind my head.

“That’s cute,” she replies, not looking up from her laptop. She’s focused, like always, that little wrinkle between her eyebrows showing she’s deep in thought.

“Also, apparently, the baby will start swallowing amniotic fluid this week,” I add. Then I shudder, closing the app. “Okay, that’s enough for today. The whole swallowing thing kind of freaks me out.”

She chuckles, the sound light and soft, and it makes me grin like an idiot. This is our rhythm now: her editing her sports posts, me learning more than I ever thought I’d know about babies, and both of us spending more nights in each other’s dorms than apart. I could get used to this—hell, I already have.

“Whatch’a doooooin?” I ask, adjusting the hat on my head, spinning it around, wondering if I can get her attention.

“Working on a new segment idea,” she tells me, eyes still on her screen. Damn, the hat magic isn’t working. “I want to shift to representing every woman, so I’m planning a weekly highlight reel with a little interview and calling itPower Play.I’ll feature new athletes, current athletes, even moms at the school. Did you know that Kaia Braska has twins? Twins! And Sophie Morres has a two-year-old. Both are the highest-scoring athletes here, and they’re keeping their grades up too. It’s insane how they juggle it all. I mean, I say all this, but I haven’t been given a regular spot yet.”

Her arms gesture wildly, her passion pouring out with every word. I can’t help but smile.

“And none of these women have been featured to talk about how they do it all. It’s like they’re invisible or something. I’m going to change that.”

“Damn right you are,” I say firmly. She looks up at me then, her eyes flick to the hat, and the interest sparking there is all I wanted. So I lean in, holding her gaze. “What you’re doing, Daph, it’s huge. People need to see this. They need to see them. And you’re the perfect person to make it happen. The team know that too, you’ll get a spot I know it.”

Her cheeks flush at the compliment, but she quickly looks back at her screen, scribbling a note in the margin of her notebook. “Thanks,” she murmurs. Then a ping echoes from her laptop, and her attention snaps up. She frowns, scrolling through whatever notification she just got, and then her eyes go wide, and she’s squealing. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

I shoot forward, trying to see her screen. “What? What is it?”

“They—” she pants. “They just emailed me. I got a regular segment spot.” She spins to face me. “I got it!”

“Daph!” I can’t help myself, I grab her waist and lift her off the chair, spinning her around as laughter fills the room. She’s breathless when I set her down.

“Oh my god, this is happening.”

“You earned it, princess.” My hands stay firmly on her waist. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” she beams. “I need to text Liv.”

“Isn’t she coming here tomorrow?” I ask, vaguely remembering something.

She nods, but her fingers are already whipping across her screen. “She is.”

I give her a second to type out her message, and then when she looks back at me, her smile almost knocks me on my ass. The curve of her perfect lips, the shine in her bright blue eyes. I’ll never get tired of seeing it.

“Wanna get the gang together with Liv tomorrow to celebrate?” I ask.

She nods excitedly. “That’s a great idea. I’ll text Quinn.”

Hearing her say that, so casually, makes me grin. My girl is friends with my best friends. We’ve all grabbed food and coffees over the last few weeks. And knowing that she’s comfortable with them, with my people, it feels right.

“Okay, she’s rallying the group,” she says, placing her phone down. “Maybe…” she begins, chewing her lip. “We should officially tell them about the baby.”

I search her face for a second and nod. “I’d love that. Let’s do it.”

When she leans her head against my chest, I wrap my arms around her without thinking, tucking her into the nook of my arms. Moments like this, it’s like the rest of the world falls away. I press a kiss to the top of her head.

Then I feel her shoulders start to shake and tiny little sobs slip up between us. Pulling her back, I crouch down and grasp her face between my palms to see tears falling. “Hey, hey, what happened? We’re happy, right? Are these happy tears?”

She shakes her head, her bottom lip wobbling. “I just thought about how happy I am, and then I thought I want to call my parents to tell them, but my dad—” She breaks off with a loud sob, burying her head in my chest again.

I wrap her in a cocoon, wanting to absorb all her hurt. I know the app said mood swings are likely; I just didn’t realize it would make me feel so fucking bad for her too. “I’m sorry, princess. I wish I knew how to make this better.”

Then she whispers, “What if he doesn’t come around, and I can’t tell him things like this or about the baby? What if this is all a huge mistake?” The last word cracks, like she’s been holding it in for too long.

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