Page 52 of Between Passion and Revenge, Part One (The Griot Chronicles #1)

Storm. Harvard. Daddy. Mama. Bambi. Storm.

Ezra reappears and presses a cold glass to my hand. I try to hold it, but my fingers shake too badly.

“Got it,” he says gently, holding it to my lips for me. “Take a sip. Just a little.”

I manage two gulps. The water grounds me. Just a bit.

“Sorry, guys,” I rasp, my throat feeling like it’s on fire. “I don’t…I don’t know what that was.”

“Panic attack,” Yenn says, and I look at her for the first time since this spell started. “Ever had one? I have them often enough.”

My eyebrows come down. I never knew she had anxiety like that. Yenn seems so carefree and happy all the time.

“When? For how long? I?—”

“Nope,” Yenn cuts me off. “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. Right, Ez?”

“Right,” Ezra says, taking the glass from my hands and placing it on top of a coaster on the coffee table.

Yenn squeezes my hand.

“What is it, Shae? Talk to us.”

“I—” My voice cracks. What is it? What is it really? Is it that things are moving so quickly with Storm?

Is it that I don’t trust my feelings for him?

Is it that I’ve been lying to myself for weeks? Months? Longer.

“I don’t want to go to Harvard,” I blurt out.

The room freezes.

Yenn pulls back like I just said I committed a felony. “What?”

“I said,” I repeat, my voice gaining strength through the hoarseness, “I don’t want to go to Harvard.”

Ezra is the one who speaks next. “Okay…so then don’t.”

Yenn whips her head toward him. “Are you serious right now?”

Ezra shrugs. “I mean, it’s her life. Why should she do something she doesn’t want to do?”

“Shut up,” she snaps at Ezra, and he shrugs off the barb. Yenn turns to me, wide-eyed. “Shae. Babe. You’ve dreamed of Harvard forever, since you were ten years old and wore that little crimson hoodie around school like a badge of honor. Remember? You showed me the picture!”

I nod. “I know. I thought it was the dream. I still think it might be…for someone else. For my dad, maybe. But not for me. It isn’t right anymore. I don’t know exactly what the hell I want to do, but I know what I don’t…and that’s going to Harvard.”

“You know you want to be with Storm,” Yenn says flatly.

I press my lips together.

“Yennifer,” Ezra warns, trying to play neutral.

Yenn’s voice sharpens. “This is because of him , isn’t it? You’re throwing away everything for a boy.”

“It’s not just about him!” I shout, then wince. “But yeah. He’s part of it.”

Yenn stands up, hands on her hips. “You don’t know him, Shae. Not really. He’s rich, mysterious, and hot—but is he steady ? Is he gonna have your back when shit gets real? What are you going to do when he gets tired of you?”

Ouch. Fucking ouch.

“You don’t know that will happen,” I say, my voice trembling.

“No, girl. You don’t know what will happen because you don’t know this man! See, this is what happens when you go too long without dick. You get stupid whenever the closest one jumps next to you.”

“Hey!” I shout, still shaky from my shattered nerves.

“No, Shae. I love you and I’m your best friend. And as your best friend, I have to tell you when you’re being stupid as hell. Like, what the fuck are you thinking, Shae?”

“I don’t know!” I yell, my voice cracking again. “I don’t fucking know , Yenn. But I want to find out.”

The silence that follows buzzes with unspoken fears and held-back truths.

Ezra mutters, “Can we all just take a breath before this turns into a Tyler Perry movie?”

Yenn blinks, and for the first time since I confessed my truth, her expression softens.

Just slightly.

“Okay,” she says, but I can tell her worry is still there.

And then…my stomach flips.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“Oh shit,” I say, bolting to my feet.

“Shae?” Yenn calls after me, concern immediately replacing all her anger.

I don’t answer—I barely make it to the bathroom before I spew the entirety of my stomach contents into the toilet.

Violently.

Yenn’s right behind me, crouched down and pulling my curls away from my face. Ezra leans against the doorway with a pinched expression.

“Here,” he says, handing a wet washcloth to Yenn. “She looks pale as hell.”

“I’m fine,” I mumble, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, even though my entire body vibrates on a strange frequency.

“Maybe it’s stress,” Yenn murmurs, but there’s doubt in her voice.

Ezra raises an eyebrow. “Or maybe she’s knocked up.”

I whip my head toward him, but Ezra’s looking at his cell phone as if the words he just spoke were a throwaway thought.

When Yenn and I are silent for too long, he looks up, his expression turning bewildered.

“What?” he asks. Then, his confusion turns to horror. “ No. Shae?”

I shake my head and keep shaking it until Yenn stops my spiraling with both her hands on my cheeks.

“Shae,” she says, her voice serious, “When was your last period?”

When was my…. I try to count the weeks, feeling sick all over again when I realize it’s been more than a month and a half since my last cycle.

“I….”

Yenn doesn’t respond to my hesitation. Instead, she rushes out of the bathroom and returns two seconds later with four boxes of First Response tests cradled in her arms.

“You keep pregnancy tests in your room?” Ezra asks, but Yenn doesn’t bother answering him.

“First, Shae, take these. Then we’ll talk about figuring out the rest of your life,” Yenn says, looking at me as if really seeing me for the first time tonight.

But I already know whatever plans I thought I had are no longer valid.