Left for Wild - Harloe Rae Page 0,94
“Is your period late? Have you been sick? Do I need to hold your hair? What are the symptoms that set you off?”
I’m reading through the instructions and only half listening. “A nurse called.”
“And?”
“She said I’m pregnant,” I mumble while unpacking the contents.
“Chill, Blakely.” She stills my sloppy movements with a hand over mine. “Did this come out of thin air?”
I huff hard enough to send stray strands of hair flying off my forehead. “Yes. I didn’t plan on this. At all. Prior to thirty minutes ago, I wouldn’t have considered it being possible. I’m on the freaking shot.”
She puckers her lips in a lewd fashion. “Did it fail? If that’s the case, I need to start using two methods.”
“I failed,” I grumble. “I never went to get my last injection.”
Casey wipes across her brow. “Well, that’s a relief. Good to know it was a user error.”
“You’re not helping.”
“And you’re dawdling.”
“I’m trying to heighten the anticipation.” An internal snort calls me out. Liar, liar. The results that will appear in this tiny window are holding my normal functioning hostage.
She motions me onward. “Drop your drawers and tinkle, princess.”
“Your bedside manner could use some work.”
But my attempt at delaying is over. I rip open one of the sticks and do my business. For some reason, this reminds me of relieving myself in the woods. My muscles are spasming while I try to prop sideways at a strange angle. The nerves are eating away at my insides. Having my friend bear witness is not uncomfortable, though. College dorms had a way of stealing the stage fright from my bladder where other girls are involved. Either way, I highly doubt she’d leave me alone if asked.
“Dude,” Casey laughs. “You’re going to fall over.”
I repeat the process with two more strips. “This is complicated, okay?”
“Looks like it.”
After all three tests are dipped in limbo, we set a timer and sit in absolute silence. I twiddle my thumbs for the sake of not resembling a statue. Casey is picking at her nail polish, leaving pink chips all over my rug. We simultaneously startle and yelp when the alarm blares.
My vision is full of little plus symbols. Each test spread across the counter displays the same result. The room blurs as heat attacks my eyes. I blink and set a few tears loose.
“Wow,” I whisper.
Casey rubs tiny circles across my back. “Are you happy?”
“Extremely. How can I not be?” I’m nodding while more droplets track down my cheeks. “This is just very unexpected.”
“That seems to be the theme for you as of late. No pun intended.”
A distorted giggle escapes me. “Isn’t that the truth?”
“What will Halder think?”
I drop my chin, hiding the pesky tremble giving me away. A block of tension squeezes my belly. Sucking oxygen into my straining lungs becomes a chore. “I dunno? We can’t even see each other. He just got out of prison. How am I going to break the news? His life is already a tornado. Now I’m going to toss this on his lap.”
“Deep breaths, Blake.” Her tone takes on a soothing tune. The cramps in my stomach ease. I slide my puffy lids shut and do as she says. “It’s going to be great. No worries. We’ll figure it all out.”
I chomp my bottom lip as a list of necessities begins to compile. Telling Halder takes the top spot, but how the heck am I expected to do that? A groan wheezes from my pinching mouth. The sound is pitiful to my own ears. “I don’t even know what to do with myself right now.”
“Should we sit down? Call your mom? Binge a show? Take a drive?” She ticks the options off on her fingers.
I tug at the collar of my shirt. The loose material is suddenly too restrictive. “Can we go for a walk or something?”
Casey’s gaze lights up. “I have a better idea. Let’s go out and celebrate. You’ve been cooped up in this box for too long. Fresh air and people will put some cheer in your mood. I’m making the executive decision, so it’s best you just agree.”
The barricades closing in on me begin to crumble. I give her an easy shrug. “Okay.”
She squints while studying the slack in my expression. “That was almost too simple.”
“Distraction is key while I get my plans in order.”
Her nod follows my mantra. “I’ll buy you a virgin margarita for being so cooperative.”
“Nine months of no tequila,” I grumble.
She loops an arm around my shoulders and guides me to