Page 69 of Wild Card (The Trident Trilogy 3)

I try to, but my head’s still spinning. The more it spins, the harder I cry.

“Okay, sweetie,” he says as he slides off the board. “Lie down. I’ll paddle us in. We need to get you to the hospital.”

“I’m okay, Dad. I can paddle in.” I try to protest, but seriously, lying down and closing my eyes sounds so good right now.

He grabs my ankle rope to pull my board over to us. “Millie, we’re not taking a chance of you passing out again. Lie down. Now.”

He drapes his arm over me as he starts swimming us in. A few other surfers walk over as we get to the shore.

“Is she okay?” one of them says as Dad picks me up in his arms.

“Yeah, she hit her head, but I think she’s fine.”

“Dad, I can walk,” I say as I put my arm around his neck. Honestly, I’m not sure I can.

“Shh, Mills, just rest.” He looks at the other surfers. “You mind grabbing our boards and bringing them to my truck?”

“Yeah, man. We’ve got you.”

As Dad starts to walk to the truck, I put my head on his shoulder and close my eyes. “Dad, I got so dizzy before I wiped out, and I had motion sickness. I’ve never had that.”

“Okay, sweetie. Let’s go to the doctor and figure this out. You’re fine.” I can tell by the tone in his voice that he’s starting to question whether or not I am fine.

* * *

We’re in the hospital room waiting for the doctor to get back with the results of some lab work she requested. She did some manual tests for a concussion but doesn’t think I have one. She thinks I might have anemia.

“Dad, I feel a lot better,” I say, looking up at him. He’s still standing by the treatment table, holding my hand. “We’ve been waiting for like twenty minutes.”

“We’re not leaving,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I don’t care how long we have to wait—”

The doctor’s smiling when she walks back in. I guess that’s a good thing. “We have the results of your bloodwork. Maybe your dad would like to wait outside.”

“What?” I say, frowning. “No, I want him here.”

“Are you sure?” The doctor looks down at the lab results and then back up at me.

Dad’s squeezing my hand so hard that I think he might break it. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, of course, I’m sure.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“What?” I say so softly that I can barely hear myself.

Dad puts his arm around me to steady my slumping body.

“That’s not possible,” I say slowly. “I’m on the pill.”

“Did you miss any?” The doctor looks down at the results again like they’re going to change. “Even if you didn’t, the pill isn’t perfect. You’re pregnant. Have you had any other symptoms? Are you late?”

“Yeah, by like a week, but it happens sometimes when I’m stressed.”

“And she’s been dizzy,” Dad says. “And getting an upset stomach.”

The doctor nods her head. “All symptoms of pregnancy. Have you had any morning sickness?”

“I threw up my breakfast the other day, but I thought it was because the burrito was two days old.”

The doctor laughs. “Yeah, it could have been that, but you’re pregnant. Do you have an OB? I can recommend someone.”

---