the back seat of his father’s Audi. It was absolutely unremarkable and wholly embarrassing, and even though we got better, it would be nice if our first time had been something we could look back on with fonder memories.
I don’t even want to think about this. Or talk about it. It’s hard being best friends with my little sister for this very reason—I want to be excited for her and hear all about it, but at the same time, I want to protect her from making the same mistakes I made. I always want better for her.
I look at her sincerely, trying my best not to seem motherly. “If it happens tonight, just stay sober, at least.”
Jenny rolls her eyes at my advice and crawls back into the front seat just as Jonah opens his door.
Chris is back too. Without beer. He slams his door and folds his arms over his chest. “It really sucks having a baby face.”
I laugh and run my hand across his cheek, pulling his focus to mine. “I like your baby face.”
That makes him smile. He leans in and kisses me but pulls away as soon as his lips meet mine. He taps Jonah’s seat. “You try it.” Chris takes cash out of his pocket and reaches into the front, dropping it on the console.
“Won’t there be plenty of alcohol there?” Jonah asks.
“It’s the biggest graduation party of the year. The entire senior class will be there, and every one of us are underage. We need all the reinforcements we can get.”
Jonah reluctantly grabs the cash and gets out of the car. Chris kisses me again, this time with tongue. He pulls back pretty quickly, though. “What’s in your mouth?”
I crunch down on the Jolly Rancher to break it. “Candy.”
“I want some,” he says, bringing his mouth back to mine.
Jenny groans from the front seat. “Stop. I can hear you slurping.”
Chris pulls back with a grin but also with a piece of Jolly Rancher in his mouth. He bites down on it while putting on his seat belt. “It’s been six weeks since we graduated. Who has a graduation party six weeks after graduation? Not that I’m complaining. Just seems like we should be past the graduation celebrations by now.”
“It hasn’t been six weeks. It’s only been four,” I say.
“Six,” he corrects. “It’s July eleventh.”
Six?
I try to keep the sudden onslaught of tension in every single muscle in my body from being visible to Chris, but I can’t help but have a reaction to what he just said. Every part of me stiffens.
It hasn’t been six weeks. Has it?
If it’s been six weeks . . . that means I’m two weeks late for my period.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
The trunk to Jonah’s car pops open. Chris and I both spin around, just as Jonah slams the trunk shut and walks to the driver’s-side door. When he gets in the car, he has a smug smile on his face.
“Motherfucker,” Chris mutters, shaking his head. “She didn’t even card you?”
Jonah puts the car in drive and begins to pull out. “It’s all in the confidence, my friend.”
I watch as Jonah reaches across the seat and takes Jenny’s hand.
I look out the window, my stomach in knots, my palms sweating, my heart pounding, my fingers quietly counting the days since my last period. I haven’t given it any thought at all. I know it was graduation because Chris was bummed we couldn’t have sex. But I’ve just been expecting to get it any day now, thinking it’s only been a month since they graduated. The four of us have been so busy doing a ton of nothing during summer break that I haven’t even thought about it.
Twelve days. I’m twelve days late.
It’s all I’ve thought about all night while at this graduation party. I want to borrow Jonah’s car keys, drive to a twenty-four-hour pharmacy, and buy a pregnancy test, but that would only make him ask questions. And Jenny and Chris would notice my absence. Instead, I have to spend the entire evening surrounded by music so loud I can feel it cracking in my bones. There are sweaty bodies in every part of this house, so there’s nowhere I can escape to. I’m too scared to drink now, because if I am pregnant, I have no idea what that could do. I’ve never given pregnancy much thought, so I don’t know exactly how much alcohol can harm a fetus. I won’t even take that chance.