Didn't Expect You (Against All Odds #2) - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,30
stole but because she came to the realization that her oldest friend betrayed her. With a childhood like ours, we didn’t get to have many friends. Losing one of the few we had stings.
“Clyde asked Ford to loan him the exact amount of money that we’re demanding from Sheila,” she responds angrily.
“No way!” My anger rises and so does the nausea.
I jump off the bed and run toward the bathroom barely making it on time.
“Sorry about that,” I apologize after rinsing my mouth.
“Are you okay?” Persy’s voice has the same concern Mom’s had earlier.
“Yes?” I lie because I don’t want to discuss what’s happening to me, so I go back to her scumbag agent. “I’m guessing Sheila wants to settle. Is Ford going to lend them the money?”
“No, he doesn’t want to do it, which is good. I don’t want to get into a fight because of them,” she answers and then asks, “What is happening with you? That bug sounds lethal.”
“I’m feeling like shit,” I mention and give in to the conversation because Persy is my best friend and who else but her to listen to what can be a tragedy. “You know what Mom told me
today when she saw me?”
“I’m afraid to guess. Did they pull an internet browser, added your symptoms and tell you, ‘You are dying tomorrow?’” She laughs, but I don’t join her. It’d be funny if it wasn’t hitting too close to home.
“Dad said stomach cancer. Mom said, ‘You’re pregnant!’”
“What?” she squeaks.
“They need to stop playing doctor.”
“I keep telling them that, but they don’t listen,” I agree with her and leave the bathroom.
Nate is outside looking at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, “Yeah. Was I so loud that you heard?”
“No, Ford texted me. Persy is worried about you.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him. Not sure if it’s to Nate, Persy, or for my benefit.
“Are you?” Persy asks.
“Yes, I am fine,” I repeat. Giving Nate a reassuring smile.
“No, are you pregnant?”
“No. Oh God, no. I’m not expecting anything. Not a shipment or a baby,” I swear and let out a long breath. “No, it’s impossible.”
“Have you…had sex in the past few weeks?” Persy asks, I look up at Nate who is still in the room.
Well, isn’t this an awkward conversation to have. Thankfully, he can only hear one side of it.
I bite my lip and nod. “Just once, a couple of weeks ago,” I whisper, remembering the night I ended up having sex with Edward Bryant.
He’s one of the nephews of my boss, Sarah. My heart stops just thinking of what could happen if I am. Oh please, don’t even think about it, Nyx. Stop that train of thought.
I start counting the weeks since that trip.
“It was three weeks ago,” I mumble. “While I was out of town, but we used protection.”
“What if…” she trails her voice.
“Shut up!”
Just the thought of having a kid, and with him, makes me shiver and not in a good way. This is a great example of why I should focus on my goals and not let my guard down. I was lonely, bored, and horny. He was available, kind of funny, and we said what happens outside of Colorado doesn’t come home. It’d be ironic or some kind of punishment to get pregnant after a year of not having sex.
“I’m sure Mom’s wrong,” Persy comforts me, but why don’t I feel better with those words? “But what if he used an old condom?”
“It was new. I bought them that week…a girl could hope. It had been a year, Persy.”
I begin pacing around the room. What if my mother is right? Am I having a baby? No. This can’t be happening. I…nope.
“Calm down, I’m sure it’s a bug, Nyx. You’ll be fine by Monday,” she reassures me.
“But condoms are only ninety-eight percent effective,” I almost stammer, setting her on speaker and pulling the information on Google.
“Leave it to you to know the statistics of a condom’s effectiveness,” Persy hisses. “Don’t fixate on that and just enjoy the weekend. I should ask Nate to take you out and distract you. Go to The Hideout sports bar. That should keep your mind occupied.”
“I’ve been trying not to worry, but what if Mom’s right. This will ruin…everything,” I protest feeling selfish, but how am I supposed to react.
“Nyx Andromeda Brassard, stop this insanity,” she orders. “You’re not a neurotic mess. You’re the sensible one of all of us. Now, go have dinner with Nate and remember that you’ll be fine.”