Page 74 of The Triple Play

“Annie?”

Zoe followed me in, but I was already on my knees in front of the toilet, grasping the porcelain as if it were going to save me. The dry heaves were brutal, nothing really coming up, but my body tried anyway, my chest and arms shaking with the effort. Zoe sat beside me, rubbing my back and holding my hair like we were back in college and I’d had one too many shots of cheap tequila.

It felt like it took forever to pass, but when it finally did, I sat back against the bathtub, breathing heavy through my nose. “Stress,” I rasped, my voice cracking from how raw my throat felt.

But Zoe’s was far more cautious. “Annie.”

I didn’t look at her, already feeling the nausea starting to churn again. “What?”

She shuffled, her moving and opening my under-sink cabinet the only sound in the small bathroom, picking up little cardboard boxes of medicine and first aid supplies and makeup. “Don’t freak out,” she said hesitantly, pulling out the dreaded box that I didn’t need to look at to know exactly what it was. “Just take one for my peace of mind.”

I swallowed and stared dead on at the toilet. “Zoe, I’m not—I mean, my period is late, yes, but that’s probably just the stress of the last couple of weeks.”

I felt her eyes on me, the hanging silence.

“I’m not. I take the pill.”

“You’re terrible at taking pills on time,” she said softly. “You’re taking a test. Scratch that, you’re taking two. I’ll get a cup.”

She pushed up and stood, already pulling the door open and leaving the bathroom before I could try to protest, leaving me alone with the box of spare assorted tests from all the times I’d bought a set of two without remembering I had some at home. Bile pricked at the back of my throat, threatening to make me curl over the toilet again, but she was back a moment later with a disposable cup and a soft look on her face.

“Come on,” she sighed, holding out a hand for me. “You’ve got to pee in a cup now, girl.”

Minutes later, I sat on the edge of the tub, two sticks clutched in my palm and the bathroom door closed. Zoe waited on the other side, her back against the door, her steady breathing just barely loud enough that I could hear it. The digital screen on one of them flashed with the little hourglass symbol, and the other one still only had the control line, both of them taunting me.

“You okay?” Zoe asked, her voice tight.

“No. Has it been five minutes?”

“No.”

We waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The alarm tone went off on her smartwatch, and I swallowed, unclasping my grip on the tests and looking down.

Pregnant.

Everything went still. I stared at the single word and the double lines like they were holding knives to my throat.

“Annie?” Zoe asked hesitantly.

My fingers tightened around the tests. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

The only thing I could hear was the rush of blood in my ears, pulsing and drowning out everything else. My thoughts spiraled, questions of what the hell I was going to do now turning into questions of whose it evenwas. My chest tightened, my breaths too short, the panic starting to eat me alive.

I couldn’t tell them. Icouldn’t. I couldn’t even imagine it —hey guys, I’m pregnant and I have no idea which one of you is the dad.The chaos of it would shatter any bit of whatever was salvageable here after disappearing for two weeks.

I could already hear the disappointment in Dad’s voice, could hear his words without him even saying them. Raise it with Elliot or work at the firm and do it alone.

No more music.

No more life.

No moreme.

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