Page 110 of Pinch

It went on to say something about how a payment plan can be provided if I need help repaying the money.

Please return the crown, sash, and all related paraphernalia…

The black type printed on crisp ivory linen paper stands out in my mind like a brand. I stood alone in the sterile, science room reading the thing I feared most.

Looking up, the sky is growing dark now. It will probably rain tonight, since this is the rainiest month of the year. It’s kind of perfect timing for rain.

Dark winds lift and bend the branches of the trees, and there is no sunshine. I want to ask Gavin for the word that means the opposite ofkomorebi. This is it.

The house is quiet and empty when I arrive. The guys have a game, and Gigi has a date. Spanky is in his crate, so I walk across the hall to let him out. Gigi will have already walked him, but I’ll let him out back to go before the rain starts.

Part of me aches for Patsy, but every time that longing appears, I force myself to think of her loving owner, so happy to have her puppy back. Then I remind myself I’ll have a baby soon.

It sort-of helps.

Returning to my bedroom, I pull the old box out from under my bed. The pictures and sashes are all there like before. I lift the new one out and place it on my bed.

With a deep breath, I steady my insides. My throat knots, but I’m trying not to cry. I knew this could happen. I made this choice.

Taking the box off the bed again, a picture falls to the floor. It’s the official photo of me being crowned last year. In it, my eyes are damp, and I’m looking up with a huge smile on my face as the previous year’s winner passes the title to me.

I remember how much that moment meant to me, and I hiccup a breath. I’m still reeling from the shock of discovering it’s over.

Everything I’ve worked for, years and years of camps and productions and laughter and joy and sisterhood, all stripped away and given to another person like I never even existed.

All gone, because of a biological reality. I’m a woman.

Men don’t get stripped of their titles for impregnating women. They get lauded and fist-bumped and treated like they accomplished some great feat.

They came.

The rest is up to us.

Scrubbing my fingers across my forehead, I push against these bitter thoughts. In my case, it’s not what happened.

Gavin has been so supportive, so devoted. He’s going to be furious when he finds out about this.

The ache in my chest is winning when my phone starts to vibrate with an incoming call. Swallowing back the pain, I lift the device, and I almost can’t believe the name on the screen.

“Karen?” My voice is wobbly.

“Haddy?” My old roommate sounds breathless, like she’s walking fast. “Oh, Haddy, I had to call as soon as I heard the news. I’m so sorry! I know how much this meant to you, and I just want you to know it’s wrong and it’s sexist and you deserve that crown, and they shouldn’t be able to take it away from you just because you’re an unwed mother.”

My forehead crinkles, and I look at the phone. “Technically, I’m pregnant… How did you know?”

“Everybody knows.” Her voice lowers. “I had to call you right away, because if anyone understands the shame it’s me. It’s cruel and?—”

“I’m not ashamed. I’m more… angry?” I haven’t decided.

Too much is happening too fast, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all.

“You should be angry. As soon as I heard, I said you have my support. But what good is it if I don’t tell you? Nobody was there when it happened to me, and it was the loneliest feeling in the world.”

She’s said it twice now, and it feels like she wants me to ask about it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know this happened to you.” I try to remember what she’d even won. “It must’ve been before we lived together.”

“You didn’t know?” Her voice goes high. “How is that possible?”