Page 126 of Not Another Yesterday
Tori squeezes my arm gently. “How late?”
My eyes fly back to my phone. “I… I don’t know.” I scroll furiously, trying to somehow reconstruct the timeline, but my brain won’t cooperate. All I feel is panic. Just panic. Just static. “Oh god.”
My chest is rising and falling too fast. I can’t catch a full breath.
Tori gently pries the phone from my hands. Her blue eyes are steady, soft. “Okay, stop,” she says calmly—the opposite of how I feel.
I can’t form a single coherent thought. Just:Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.
“You’re probably just stressed,” Summer says. “The last few months were hell, and finals don’t exactly help. Your body’s probably just playing catch-up.”
I latch onto her words like they’re gospel. I nod.Yeah, okay. I’m just stressed. That’s all. Just stress.
Vada flags down the waiter with one hand, the other still holding her fork. “But let’s just get a test,” she says, matter-of-factly. “That way we can rule it out.”
The young waiter reappears, and she turns on a dazzling smile. “Could we get some to-go boxes? And feel free to include your phone number,” she says with a wink.
I don’t know how Vada can flirt right now, but for some reason, I’m grateful she can. Like if she’s not panicking, if she can still be Vada, maybe everything isn’t crashing down around me. Maybe I don’t have to panic, either.
***
“You’re still on the pill, right?” Tori asks when we’re in the backseat of Vada’s car.
I nod, nausea churning in my stomach. I can’t tell if it’s from the panic or if it’s… something else. “Yeah. I never stopped taking it,” I say. “But I missed a couple of days when Ran and I were broken up.”
Summer turns in the front passenger seat, giving me a sympathetic look. “That’s not ideal, but I’m sure you’re fine. You’ve been on the pill for how long? I can’t imagine a couple of missed days would immediately undo years of being careful, right?”
I swallow down the bile threatening to rise. “I hope not.”
We drive to the nearest drugstore, march to the aisle with the feminine hygiene products, and stare at the wall of pregnancy tests. I had no idea there were so many kinds. Digital, non-digital, early detection, some with fancy displays, others that look like strips of paper.
“Uhh,” I mutter, hovering. I have the sudden urge to bolt.
“Let’s grab these,” Summer says, picking a box with three early-response non-digital tests. “I think these were the ones my brother’s girlfriend used during their scare last year. She was negative, so maybe that’s a good sign.”
I don’t have a reason to disagree.
“Where are we going?” Vada asks once we’re back in her car.
“My parents are home,” I say quickly, shaking my head like that could somehow undo all of this.
“So are mine,” Summer says.
Vada glances at Tori in the rearview mirror. “Ran’s still in Boston helping Stevie move, right? Is Shane working?”
“Yeah. We could go to their apartment,” Tori says. “We’ll just need to toss the tests after or the boys will freak.”
I’m not convinced throwing them in a random dumpster will prevent said freaking.
Tori has to unlock the apartment because my fingers aren’t steady enough to get the key in the lock. As soon as she opens the door, I squeeze past her and rush to the small bathroom, box of pregnancy tests in hand.
I click the lock in place and tear the box open. That little instructional pamphlet is suddenly the most important thing I’ve ever read. I follow the steps precisely, then set the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter.
I unlock the bathroom door a minute later and join Tori, Vada, and Summer in the living room.
“I have to wait three minutes,” I say when Vada peeks at my hands like I walked in already knowing the outcome.
We sit on the couch in silence, knees bouncing, hands fidgeting. The energy is restless, anxious.
