Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 70092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
"Oh my God." I hear Clarabella rushing to me as the wave of vomit comes again.
Tears are filling my eyes, and all I can do is point at the door toward where I left the couple.
"Got it,” Shelby confirms, walking out and leaving me with Clarabella.
"I'll get you water,” Clarabella says and all I can do is close my eyes before I throw up again.
"Oh my God, what did you eat?" Clarabella opens the top and hands me the bottle. I rinse out my mouth, spitting into the garbage before taking a sip.
"Bagel and cream cheese," I say, sitting on the floor now but not moving away from the garbage bin.
"Maybe the cheese wasn't good,” Clarabella suggests.
"I was fine until Rico Suave out there came in bathed in Abercrombie and Fitch cologne," I share, my stomach lurching just from thinking about it.
"Well, whatever it is, you should go home,” Clarabella states. "I'll go get your purse and stuff."
"Thank you," I say, grabbing my phone and texting Bennett.
Me: How are you feeling?
I send the text and close my eyes to fight back the nausea when the phone beeps in my hand.
Bennett: Better now that you texted. Why?
Me: No reason.
"Here you go." Clarabella comes out with my purse and my garbage can. "And I called Mom and she said if it was the cream cheese, you would have known right away because it would have tasted sour."
"Why the hell would you call Mom?" I huff, standing up now.
"You are her baby. Can you imagine if I didn't call her?" She shakes her head. "I'm not dealing with that. I have enough to deal with. Now call me when you get home."
"Whatever," I say, grabbing my bag and the garbage bag. The minute I take two steps, I get another whiff of the cologne, and I groan and rush out to my car.
I start the car and get the air-conditioning going before pulling up my phone and googling why in the world I'm throwing up cream cheese. I scan the list, and it's the basic lactose intolerance. I roll my eyes when I see pregnancy. Then snort-laugh at that thought. "As if," I say, opening my period calculator app on my phone. The red dot in the middle says DAY 4. "No, no, no, no, no," I say, my heart beating so fast I can't hear anything else but the echo.
I throw my phone down on the passenger seat, the nausea not even on my mind as I make my way to the pharmacy. My head is spinning around and around, and I literally feel like I'm not in my own body. Parking, I grab my purse and head into the pharmacy. I speed walk down the aisles, not even sure where one finds pregnancy tests. I spot them above the condoms, and I look around before grabbing two boxes in one hand and then adding three more of other brands.
I make no eye contact when I pay for them, and the drive home has to be the longest drive of my life. It's almost like I'm going forward but taking fifteen steps backward. My neck burns, and my hands shake and get clammy. I don't even grab anything from the car but the pharmacy bag and the keys. Every single step to the bathroom feels like my feet are filled with cement. "This isn't happening," I say to myself, spilling the boxes on the bathroom counter. I pick up a box and start to read the instructions. "I need to pee,” I mumble, walking to the toilet and then walking back to grab a test. "But if one is defective, how am I going to pee again?" I have a conversation with myself when I see the glass on the counter. "I'm going to pee in the cup and then dunk the tests in them." My heart feels like it's going to come out of my mouth. "Then I'm going to spin it and play Russian roulette." If I wasn't so fucking scared, this would make me laugh.
I sit on the toilet and wait for the pee to come, but when I think it will, I get bladder shy. Getting up, I walk over to the sink and turn on the water to get the urge to pee, but when I sit down, it goes away. "You better freaking pee." I look at my vagina. "And you better not be with a baby." I start to pee and then rush to put the glass in the stream. "I promise if this is negative, I will not have sex again without using double protection." I put the cup down on the floor and wipe myself. "At least no sex during ovulation," I add to the verbal contract I'm doing with whoever is listening. "Okay." I put the cup on the counter. "This looks like normal pee. Nothing looks pregnant." I laugh as I open all the boxes and start to put the sticks in the cup of urine. "Okay, three minutes." I look around for my phone and then realize I had forgotten it in the car. "Or I count to one hundred and eighty," I say, walking back and forth in my bathroom and counting to one eighty. "Here we go." I grab one and look down at the test. "Oh, fuck."