Chapter 9

WILLOW

Something feels off.

I’ve had those three words irking me for a week now.

No matter what I do… I just… feel… off.

Sometimes when I eat I don’t feel good. Sometimes when I eat I feel so good, it’s almost orgasmic. In the morning, I wake up and feel like death for a good hour. Sometimes my stomach hurts so bad I think I’m going to puke. This morning I even sat on the edge of the tub with the toilet open, ready to make myself throw up just to see if it would get rid of the feeling.

It’s like… like you ate something and it just doesn’t sit right. But this has been going on for days now.

Fingers snap in my face.

“Willow? You there?”

I blink and look at Mila. “What?”

“Dazed. Dammit. Never mind.”

“I’m so sorry, Mila. I’m tired. I know…”

“It’s fine,” she says. “I’m just whining about classes. Stuff is piling up.”

“Do you need help?”

“Are you going to tutor me through pre-med?”

“Sure,” I say. “If I was able to help that moron you call your boyfriend…”

Mila grins. “Don’t call Jax a moron. He’s just… special.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Wait. He’s a moron? Weren’t you trying to sleep with him at one point?”

“Well, yeah,” I say. “Moron or not, he’s a decent looking guy.”

We both laugh.

Then things get quiet.

Really quiet.

The eight-hundred-pound elephant is back in the room… or, back in the cafe.

“It’s okay to talk about him,” I say to Mila. “You can ask me things. We are okay with everything that happened. At least I am. I know you went through-”

“I’m fine,” she says. “I just hope he is too. And I hope more so that it’s not a burden to you. Because you seem… never mind.”

Mila looks out the window.

“Oh, no,” I say. “I hate when people start saying something, then just stop. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

“Okay. You seem distant. Distracted. You seem… off. I assume it has to do with your brother. And no matter what I tell myself or anyone, I feel some guilt for that.”

“Mila. Stop.”

“I can’t…”

“This has nothing to do with Ward,” I say. “I swear.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m just… tired. Yes, it’s been hectic. Very hectic. That’s all. I’m just tired.”

“Promise me that.”

“Mila, I’m not promising anything. You can take my word or not. That’s up to you.”

“You’re just so distracted.”

“Okay, you’ve said that enough.”

“I just-”

“Go hump Jax,” I say. “You’ll feel better.”

“Maybe I will,” Mila says.

“Then why are you still sitting here?” I smile.

She stands up. “I don’t want to walk away feeling like… there’s tension…”

“Oh, there’s going to be tension if you keep acting like this,” I warn.

“See? You’re kind of mean now.”

“Hormones,” I say. “I must be getting my period soon.”

Mila starts to walk away, pauses, looks at me, then walks away for good.

I casually touch my phone.

A surge of panic hits me.

I think about what I just said to Mila. As a joke.

Hormones. Period. All that…

I open the calendar on my phone. I scroll back.

I stop.

I open my notes and check for a certain date.

When I see the date, I panic even more.

My eyes move left to right.

Nobody is looking at me. That’s good. I’m keeping calm and cool.

Somewhere in my head these dates aren’t adding up.

I’m not due… but I should have been… but did I…

Wait.

I had to have. Right?

Why would I not… why would my body miss a month…

I look for Mila, almost joking.

Maybe I need a medical student to explain this to me.

Now, of course, let’s be honest for a second.

There’s a key factor here.

Stress.

Think about everything that had been going on. With Ward. With everything surrounding him. So much you probably don’t even know that involves my father too. It’s been very chaotic and stressful. My body has totally been out of whack. Which would explain why… and how… and that…

I stand up.

My chair scratches against the floor.

A few people look at me.

I grab my coffee and bolt out of the cafe.

Nope. No way. Not a chance. Can’t be. Absolutely no…

“Way,” I whisper.

I take a breath.

Then another.

Panic turns into terror.

All roads point back to stress.

But not in the way I originally thought.

Look. I was stressed. I was scrambling all the time. Maybe there’s a chance I did not ‘protect’ myself like I normally would have.

Fine. I’ll just say it.

I may or may not have missed a pill or two.

Or a handful. Or a week. Or more.

Or… fuck…

I run back to my dorm and hide in my bedroom.

I can’t stop thinking the obvious.

There’s only one way to calm the voice in my head.

I get to experience something I did not think I’d have to worry about for a long time.

I have to buy a pregnancy test.