Page 68 of Size King

“All right then,” she says.

She looks down at the pregnancy test. I cover my face with my hands, unable to face the truth.

“Just tell me,” I say into my hands.

“You’re pregnant.”

I know it is the truth, but it doesn’t stop my heart from coming to a screeching halt. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. Perhaps it is the developing newborn letting me know that they are there. For all I know, at that moment, there could be multiple babies inside of me. I am tall, and all of the women in my family are quite fertile. I am running through hundreds of other crazy thoughts at a thousand miles an hour. I almost feel like hyperventilating.

“Okay. Okay.” I pant. “Go to a doctor. That’s what I’m doing next.”

Emma whips out her phone and begins to frantically click and swipe her screen. There is no telling what she is doing, but she is moving at an unbelievably fast rate.

“Where’s the fire?” I ask her.

“There’s one other thing we need to put on the board,” she explains. “We find out the I.D. of the daddy. Then, you decide whether or not you even want to tell him you’re pregnant. This baby is being cooked inyouroven. You’re the one that has to carry it for nine months. You decide whether you want to include him in this baby’s life or not. Finally, if he’s interested in being there for support, and that’s something you’re interested in, it might not hurt to go on a couple of dates with the guy.”

“Oh, okay,” I say through hearty laughter.

“Don’t worry. I’m a true detective. I’m CSI-ing this guy. I’m looking him up online right now.”

“What?”

I watch over her shoulder as she goes to town on her phone. She is on Facebook, looking through a variety of people’s profiles at practically the speed of light.

“I found Luke’s Facebook, and I am hoping I can creep on and find Mason on there,” she explains. “No luck there. Google didn’t come up with anything when I searched ‘Mason Wrightwood CA,’ but there has to be a detail we can use. Did he say what he did for a living?”

“He did. I’m blanking on it right now, but I think maybe he ran a restaurant? No. Actually, I think he said he did something with deliveries.”

“Deliveries?”

“Deliveries,” I repeat. “I can’t get any more specific than that. Deliveries.”

She is typing away at her lightning fast speed. I can’t stop looking at my pregnancy test, seeing that bright blue line printed on my stick feels like the kiss of death. I fully expect my modeling career to live a short life, and I’ll never get to see my full potential.

“If this doesn’t work, I have a direct connection to the source,” says Emma. “If worse comes to worst, we’ll use our emergency distress signal.”

“I don’t get it. What do you mean?”

She looks somewhat guilty upon revealing her information, but I want to be totally on her wavelength.

“Uh, funny story,” she says. “Luke actually foundmeon Facebook about a week ago and added me.”

“Shut up, really?”

“Yeah, he messaged me right away when I added him,” she confesses. “He gave me his number the day we started messaging each other.”

“You guys arestillmessaging each other?” I ask with raised eyebrows.

“We’re just talking, no big deal,” she says dismissively. “Anyway, if all else fails, we should ask Luke how to get in touch with him. I’m sure he’ll want to help out once he knows you’re carrying his best friend’s baby.”

“No, I don’t want his best friend to know that I’m carrying his baby beforeheknows,” I say. “That’d be weird. Plus, I don’t want to make things awkward or whatever between those guys. No, if we don’t find him organically, we don’t find him at all.”

Like clockwork, a broad, satisfied smile forms on her face as she nods her head. She turns her phone around so that I can see it.

She searched for ‘Mason Wrightwood delivery,’ and the top search result gives us the answer to our dire question. Wrightwood has onlyonedelivery service, highly rated, and the founder named the company after himself.

“Mason Dunn at Dunn Deliveries,” declares Emma. “Youare the father!”