Page 66 of Size King

I manage to finish myself offtwicein one sitting, much to my relief. I put my toy back in its proper place and proceed to take a shower and get ready for the modeling shoot later that morning.

When I getto K-Plus for the shoot, I immediately know that something isn’t right.

On the walk from my car to the studio inside where we are shooting, I become unnaturally tired. I feel fatigued like I’ve been carrying something heavy on my shoulders. I only ever feel those things when I am sick.

Then, I go from lethargic to aggravated once the cameras are going. The lighting in the room is driving me crazy and seems unusually bright. The flashes from the cameras are also a disturbance, sometimes causing me to stop dead in my tracks like a deer. Being in those elements long enough causes me to have a vicious migraine, and my head is pounding. I am having difficulty simply keeping my eyes open, let alone bringing my A-game. I can’t understand where it is coming from. There isn’t any illness going around that I’m aware of.

After the shoot, Emma and I change together backstage. We are both eager to get our makeup off, our regular clothes on, and our asses out the door.

“Please tell me I’m not the only one suffering here today,” says Emma.

“You’re not, believe me,” I tell her. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Don’t worry, you were still good out there,” she says reassuringly.

“What is it you have?” I ask. “Is there a flu or cold going around?”

“No, dude, I’m on my fucking period,” she replies. “I thought that was what was slowing you down. It’s really kicking my ass today. I want to get back into bed.”

“We haven’t shared periods in like four months,” I remind her. “Mine’s before yours now, right before.”

“You had your period last week?”

Typically, during my periods, I only really feel like crap for one day. During the other days, I barely notice it at all. It is easy for me to forget that I’m even on it at times or on some occasions.

This time, it just didn’t happen. I didn’t start my period on time. Upon reflecting, I feel confident that I didn’t have my period the week before, and I know for certain that I’m not on it at that moment. I’m not going through my normal monthly symptoms. I’m a week late, and I instantly freeze at that realization.

“You didn’t have it, did you?” she surmises.

“Please don’t tell me I feel like shit because I’m pregnant,” I say with a hearty chuckle. “I wore a condom with that guy.”

“Condoms break,” she retorts, filling my head with doubt.

“Not with me, they don’t!” I defy. “We only slept togetheronce. We only had sex a couple of times! I couldn’t be.”

“All it takes is one time, sweetie,” Emma states matter-of-factly.

“Holy fuck, I’m pregnant.”

“No, you’re not!” says Emma, dropping her demeanor. “You’re fine. You really are probably just sick. It’s January. It’s cold.”

“I could’ve missed my period because of stress,” I say. “Big move, new town, new apartment, new job. I probably scared it off. It’ll come back. One time in high school, I went two whole months without having a period. I wasn’t even having sex at the time. I was just stressing about finals and what I was going to do with my life. No big deal!”

“You’re probably right,” she agrees. “Just ignore the idea of being pregnant. Don’t even think about it.”

“You don’t think I’m pregnant, right?” I ask her with desperation.

“Jillian, I don’t know!” she says. “The only way you’re going to know for absolute certain is by getting that pregnancy test and peeing on that stick.”

“That’s not ‘ignoring the idea of being pregnant,’” I say.

“I’m telling you not to even think about it,” says Emma. “You’rethe one that won’t stop thinking about it. Either ignore it or learn the truth—those are your only two options. What do you want to do? If you want to go get a test, I’ll go with you and be there every step of the way.”

“Let’s do that,” I say, wanting to put ideas of pregnancy immediately behind me.

We drive to the nearby CVS and pick up one of their quick, cheap pregnancy tests. Unfortunately, because it is midday on a weekend, every checkout line is long and slow moving.

At first, I’m more disappointed than anything. Having to spend such a sizeable portion of time waiting in line for anything always seems like a waste to me. However, the longer we wait in that dreadful line, the worse I feel.