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Chapter Twenty-Five

Jemma

M y dad gives the Christmas toast with my mom at his side, dressed in a silver gown fit for a ball. Everyone raises a glass of champagne, and my stomach churns from the scent. Since the start of the winter break, I’ve had bouts of sickness that come over me in waves.

Jordan wedges herself between my parents and three brothers for a group picture. I squeeze between my parents, and my dad hugs me close to his side. He’s all smiles, and his breath stinking of his favorite holiday combination—whiskey and cigars.

Uncle Cameron snaps a few pictures of my family. It’s nice to be home again, but the distance has made me realize I made the right decision to attend Strickland University. This would have been my life if I’d stayed, and it wouldn’t have been a terrible life, just not the one I wanted for myself.

My phone dings with a new text message from Trent. A goofy picture of him wearing a Santa hat, shirtless except for a pair of red boxers, pops up on my phone. He’s so sexy and funny. I still can’t believe he’s all mine. And that everything worked out the way it did for us.

I smile so wide my cheeks hurt and raise my phone to take a selfie of me blowing him a kiss. My cheeks flush from the heat in the house. There’s a dusting of glitter on my face from when Jordan applied a new eyeshadow she’d forced me to wear for the party.

Jordan saunters over and hands me another glass of champagne. “Drink up, sis. You’re not drunk enough.” She tips her head back and chuckles. “You have a lot of catching up to do with this crowd.”

I survey the living and dining room, where people drink and talk loudly over the holiday music. My stomach churns when I lift the glass to my lips. Every time I’ve attempted to drink tonight, waves of nausea have made it impossible to get down one sip.

“You okay, Jem?” Jordan stares at me, a curious look on her face. “Your skin has a yellowish tint.”

I cover my mouth, the contents of my stomach attempting to reappear. “No, I haven’t been feeling good all day. I think I’m sick.”

Jordan takes the glass from my hand and sets it on the table. She leads me through the crowded house and into the upstairs bathroom. I drop to my knees in front of the toilet, and my sister holds my hair.

She rubs my back with her free hand, making slow, soothing motions. “It’s okay, Jem. Let it all out.”

After I vomit, I wipe my mouth with toilet paper and sit on the tiled floor next to Jordan. She pats my knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I think I have food poisoning,” I confess.

“I doubt it. You ate the same food as everyone in the house, and no one else is sick.” Jordan reaches into the top vanity drawer and wipes the sweat from my forehead with a hand towel. “You look horrible, babe. Let me fix you up. Hang on for a second.”

I lean against the cold, tiled wall, which feels good with all the heat circulating through my body. I’m burning up, my skin flushed and growing damper by the second. I haven’t felt good all day or even this week.

Jordan fills a paper cup with water and drops two pills into my hand. “Can you hang out with the fam, or do you want to sleep?”

“Sleep,” I mutter. “I’m so tired.”

She helps me up from the floor, sliding her arm behind my back, and helps me into my bedroom. I sink to the mattress, relieved when my head hits the stack of pillows. Jordan climbs in beside me and wraps her arm around me.

Jordan plays with my hair and wipes the sweat from my forehead. “This is the second time you’ve gotten sick since we’ve been home on break.”

“Mom’s been forcing me to eat everything in sight.”

I laugh, and my stomach hurts again when I do.

“If I didn’t know any better,” she whispers, “I would think you’re pregnant.”

I dismiss her comment until I consider my last period, and silence passes over us.

Jordan props herself up on her elbow. “Please tell me you’re not pregnant, Jem?”

I roll onto my back and look up at her. “Um… I don’t think so.”

“When was your last period?”

I bite my cheek and stare at the ceiling, mulling over her question. “Before the Halloween party, I think.”

“It’s Christmas,” Jordan breathes.

“Uh-huh,” I mutter, now feeling an intense wave of nausea, this time for a different reason. “Maybe I’m just late. My period has never been what you would call a regular.”

“Yeah, but two months is a long time without getting it. Even for you.”

She’s right, and I would be stupid to ignore the fact that there’s a good chance I am pregnant. But how could this happen? I used a condom with Trent.

“We were safe,” I assure Jordan.

“Condoms can expire or break, Jem. Just because you used one doesn’t guarantee you won’t get pregnant.”

“There was this one time…”

Jordan cocks her head at me. “What happened?”

“The condom fell off inside me.”

Her eyes widen in surprise.

“He said he came in the condom. I saw it.”

“And you didn’t get a morning-after pill? What is wrong with you?”

“Stop it, Jordan. We don’t even know if I’m pregnant.”

“If you’re pregnant, you need to know.” Jordan sucks in a deep breath and blows it out. “You’re taking a home pregnancy test,” she says sternly. “I’ll drive you to Eden tomorrow so no one in town finds out.”