Page 60 of That Girl is Trouble

Maybe she can feel it, the regret and guilt brewing, growing, poking at my stomach, because she slides out of my arms and wordlessly slips out of my shower.

I let the water run cold before I finally get out.

17

I stand in line, zoning out on the back of the woman in front of me. Jade stands to my left, chewing loudly as she shovels another handful of Doritos into her mouth.

“So, what? You’re just letting dudes dump their loads inside you whenever they want?” she asks, her voice practically echoing across the entire pharmacy.

The woman in front of us snaps her head in our direction and throws us a dirty look before turning to face the counter again.

“Will you keep your voice down?” I whisper-shout. “And no. Not dudes. Just Axe. And it wasn’t on purpose. It was an in the moment kind of thing.”

She hums in response before digging her hand back into her bag of chips. “You gonna go on the pill?”

“I… don’t know.”

“If you don’t, you should use condoms. When’s the last time you were tested for STIs? God,” she says with a snort. “When’s the last time you think he was tested?”

I close my eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Please fucking stop.”

She shrugs. “Just saying. And don’t make a habit of taking this thing. It fucks with your cycle. When was your last period? Are you ovulating?”

“No, Jade, I’m not ovulating,” I say with a bite, but if she hears the irritation in my tone, she ignores it.

Jade’s pre-med, and she’s leaning towards obstetrics. Anytime the subject of sex or vaginas comes up, her questions go from casual conversation between friends to invasive real quick.

“Are you sure? Did you download that app I told you about so you can track everything?”

“Yes, I’m sure, and yes, I did.”

“You’re probably fine. But you should take it just in case. Something tells me Donovan swimmers are fierce. Bet those bad boys will be livin’ up there for weeks, just prayin’ on an egg drop,” she says. She’s silent for a moment as she holds the bag of chips to her mouth and tips her head back, chomping on crumbs and broken chips as she empties it into her mouth. Finally, she crumples the bag in her hands and turns to me again. “Fuck, can you imagine? Swinging around that pole with a baby bump? Can’t think of anything sadder. Wait. No!” she yells far too enthusiastically, making several other patrons around us glance our way. “That could be your thing. Preggo little Kitty Kat. How sweet.”

I scowl. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Seriously. Some guys are into it. My friend Paige—you know, the one from my chem lab—she’s thirty-two weeks and making bank right now selling pictures of herself online. Literally just her in lingerie being pregnant. Paid for her tuition this year and then some. One guy offered to pay her like ten grand for the afterbirth. Can you believe that sicko? Fucking. Wild. We’re totally in the wrong line of work.”

“We do just fine.”

“Yeah, but not that fine. We should start taking our clothes off on the internet. Maybe you can get Axe to dump his loads in you on video. Bet you’d really rake it in then.”

I snort. “That’s called porn, babe. And I’d rather keep my vagina, and anything going into it, off the internet.”

A throat clears, and the woman in front of us turns our way again. “Do you mind? I’m sure everyone here would appreciate being spared the details of your… personal lives,” she says in disgust.

Before I can wither and die in a hole of embarrassment, Jade smacks her Dorito dusted fingers between her lips and snaps back.

“Mind your business, bitch. This is a private conversation.”

The woman’s eyes widen, and she turns away, muttering something about “young women these days.”

Jade rolls her eyes, throwing me a dark grin. “So, do you have, like, baby names picked out or…?”

“One more word, and I’ll slap the shit out of you,” I say, biting down on my smile.

Jade has the innate ability to turn a shitty mood into a happy one, and I can’t say I’ve ever appreciated it more than I do today.

Axe hasn’t texted, but maybe I don’t blame him. I let him stay in my bed for a whole five minutes before I kicked him the hell out. And I wasn’t polite about it. I got too in my head, thinking too hard about what was going to happen later. Tomorrow, next week, six months from now. I just needed time to think, and there’s no thinking when there’s a half-naked, sexy-as-fuck tattooed biker in my bed. So I threw him out, and he was not happy.

---