Page 141 of The Future Play

“I’ve got to meet the reporter doing that profile piece tonight.”

“Perfect. We’ll come too. Get you some good food and make sure you’re nice and relaxed before she gets there.”

I stare at Beau and a few of the other guys, who are nodding.

Fuck it. Why not? I need to bond with the team.

“Let’s do it.”

Amanda

It’safter six when I finally get home from my second day of classes. Whoever decided college should start mid-week is brilliant. It’s best to ease us in so we don’t quit after two days. If it wasn’t my final year, I might want to.

I kept an eye on the score of Jamie’s game throughout class, but it kept going back and forth. Once I’ve set all my crap down, I collapse on my bed and pull out my phone to check the final score. The Metros won, but the reliever got the save.

My stomach turns. What kind of space is that going to leave Jamie in tonight? He wasn’t planning to call me for at least another hour, so I force myself off the bed to get some food, but when I do, a sick creeping sensation works its way through my stomach.

Maybe this isn’t all worry about Jamie. I haven’t felt good for the last two days. I’m fatigued despite sleeping, queasy—more like nauseous right now—and I don’t have much appetite. Plus, I’m bloated. But that’s probably because of my period.

My period?

I blink a few times, then grab my phone and look at the calendar, counting backward to when my last one started.

Five-and-a-half weeks ago.

Oh no.

No. No.

This—I… shit.

I knew I missed a few birth control pills here and there with all the back and forth and traveling, but not enough to… I can’t be pregnant, can I?

What if I’m pregnant?

I grab my phone, but remember Jamie had the meeting after the game tonight. Instead of calling, I type out a quick text.

Me: Hey, uh, semi emergency… could you call me as soon as you get this?

I set my phone down, then get up and pace. But I’m still nauseous and end up right back on my bed. What would it mean if I’m pregnant? I’d be giving birth before the school year is finished. And in the midst of Jamie’s season.

How would I manage a baby when I’m building my business and he’s gone all the time?

My chest tightens. Grabbing my phone again, I start researching everything about the effectiveness of the pill I’m on and then spiral down a black hole of pregnancy symptoms and timelines.

After more than a half hour with no call back from Jamie, I call him. But after four rings, it goes to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. Can you please call me back as soon as you get this? It’s important. Love you. Bye.”

Another half hour passes, and there’s still no phone call.

Me: Jamie, please. I need you to call me.

Then I call again. Maybe he can’t hear his phone. “Please call me back. I need to talk to you.”

Panic sets in when more time passes with no phone calls or texts from him. Every text has been delivered, so I know he has service.

Me: Where are you?

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