Page 35

“Allie!”
When I don’t answer, my best friend rips open the unlocked door. Within seconds, I feel the bed shift under her weight. The sound of her shoes hitting the floor prepares me for what comes next, her arms curling around me from behind.
That’s all it takes for me to burst into tears and break down into sobs, my body shaking against hers. I’m crying so hard, I can’t even tell her why. Like a sister, a best friend, a protector, she just holds me and lets me get it all out. She thinks I’m sad over Asher. That I’ve finally reached the point of having a meltdown.
I don’t even know how long she holds me, but I get the idea she’d do it forever if that’s what I need. Mia Cruz is my one true ride-or-die friend. She knows me better than anyone. She knows my heart. My soul. My secrets.
So it makes sense she’s the only one I can tell this to.
“I…” I rub my palms over my eyelids. “I th-think I’m p-pregnant.”
“Oh, Jesus.” She buries her head into my shoulder, squeezing me even tighter.
Her reaction is spot on. Others might say ‘think of this as a second chance’ or ‘everything will be okay.’ Not Mia. Mia knows this will destroy me.Oh, Jesusis right.
“What can I do?” she asks after a few more minutes.
I close my eyes and sigh. Because what can anyone do? It’s a sentence. A punishment. Some sort of twisted karma for breaking up with the most amazing guy who doesn’t even know he’s been broken up with.
“Have you taken a test?”
I shake my head.
“Then maybe you’re not. It could just be the whole Asher thing. Or maybe you picked up some rare exotic disease in Antigua.”
If I weren’t so completely devastated, I might think it’s funny how Mia believes an exotic foreign disease would be preferable to being pregnant. It would, however. In fact, there isn’t anything in this world I can think of that would be worse.Not even a terminal disease. Because going through what I did beforewouldkill me.
The only thing running through my head right now is what the doctor told me so long ago. “You can try again. Most Trisomy 18 cases are not inherited genetic mutations.”
Most.
Not all.
It’s strange how powerful one small word can be when it means the difference between life and death. Sanity and madness. Peace and utter turmoil.
I turn around and finally look at her. “I am. I know I am. I can feel it all the way to my soul.”
She pulls me in for another hug. Then she releases me. “I have pregnancy tests in my glove box.”
Any other time, I’d laugh. Because I know the tests she’s referring to. And they’ve been there for like ten years. They’re there because when I was nineteen and missed a period and was afraid to buy one myself, she did it for me. In fact, she bought five. At the time, I only needed one.
“No way are they still good.”
“Do pregnancy tests expire?”
We stare at each other, neither of us knowing the answer.
She hops off the bed. “It’s the best we’ve got.”
Within ninety seconds, she’s back at my side pulling one out of a plastic bag so old it practically crumbles apart. She examines a test and shrugs. “It expired seven years ago.” She shoves it at me.
I push it back at her. While she was gone, I googled it. “Old tests can show false negatives or false positives.”
She empties the bag of the other tests. “Then take all of them. We’ll go with majority rules.”
I glare up at her. “This isn’t a game, Mia.”
Her hands go to her hips. “Do you want to know or not?”