Page 37 of Full Out Fiend

“Based on the state of the kitchen, I bet he’s not even hungover yet—he’s probably still drunk.”

A body plops onto the bed, and the mattress rebounds. My cheek brushes against stiff, scratchy fabric as a result.

I crack one eye open, smiling up at my brother’s girlfriend as she continues to play with my hair.

Rubbing the side of my face against the thigh of her jeans, I tease, “Look at you, Little Wheeler. Now you’re the one crawling into bed with me…”

Iumphwhen she punches my shoulder, then push up to sit as my head swims with regret.

Fuck.

I scratch at the back of my neck as the ache in my skull crescendos to full-strength. I don’t think I’m drunk anymore, as my brother so lovingly assumed, but I’m definitely hungover.

“What’d you do?” my identical twin asks from his perch on the edge of the mattress. He’s sitting with his arms crossed, focused on the view of the Cuyahoga Valley National Park through the French doors of my patio instead of looking at me.

My room’s on the main level, so the view isn’t as spectacular as his on the second floor. But it was safer for our mom to be at ground level, and I was happy to take one of the rooms closest to hers when she was still alive.

Maddie hands me a Gatorade as they wait out my response.

“I found her,” I declare, taking my time opening and sipping the sports drink.

“And?” Dempsey pushes.

“Anddd,” I draw out, annoyed that he’s forcing me to come out and say it. Last night’s revelations have been pushed to the back of my mind. I haven’t let myself dive into the implications—I can’t.

“She didn’t need me to tell her the condom broke. She’s pregnant.”

If silence had a sound, it would sound just like this.

“How pregnant?” Maddie demands.

Read: How far along is she? Daphne was in this bed with me exactly four weeks ago. I wish I knew less about the female reproductive cycle than I actually do. But between my pre-med classes and helping Tori through the process of freezing her eggs…

“She’s six weeks pregnant.”

My brother curses. The consequences of the timing make everything heavier and harder to process. Six weeks pregnant is alreadytoopregnant to lawfully seek an abortion in the state of Ohio, and we all know it.

Last night, I offered to take her anywhere, to pay for it all. She shouldn’t have to go through this alone, and she should absolutely have a fucking choice.

But none of that matters.

“She wants to keep it,” I continue, picking the label off the plastic bottle without looking up. “She wants to keep it, but she’s not sure it’s mine.”

“You told me she was calling her wedding off!” Dempsey exclaims, rising off the bed to pace.

I have to hand it to him. He held off a lot longer than I thought he would.

“She was, and she did. But she was engaged up until the night we met.”

My mind flashes back to the foreboding figures stalking down the alley last night. She left with Anthony. I told her I was in, that I wanted to be involved—that she could count on me—and she still left with him.

“Met her ex-fiancé last night, too,” I deadpan. “Turns out our old friend Andrew Adley has an older brother.”

“No!” Maddie gasps, covering her mouth and looking between my brother and me in disbelief. “Fuckity fuck.”

“Yep.” I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand, turning my back to them. I try for nonchalant, but if my brother sees my face, he’ll know.

“Anthony and Andrew showed up at The Oak last night. Andrew recognized me immediately. Once he put two and two together…”