25
Colby
The retching noise coming from the bathroom is loud enough to wake me. Rubbing my eyes, I open them wide enough to check the clock on my nightstand.
It’s early, but not ridiculously so.
More retching.
I slide my legs from beneath the sheet and sit for a couple of seconds, trying to get my bearings. Then I follow the noise and find Ellie hunched over the toilet, her back heaving.
Shit.
I kneel next to her just as Micky’s door opens.
“Ellie. Are you okay?” I ask.
“Stupid question, Colb,” she says, retching and spitting again.
“Yeah. I guess it is,” I admit, shifting to relieve the pain from my knees on the tiled floor.
“Shall I get her some water?” Micky asks from behind.
“Yeah and close the door.”
Micky pulls the door toward him and disappears down the hall, his quiet footsteps disappearing in the shadowed hallway.
“What the hell did you eat last night?” I stroke Ellie’s damp hair back from her clammy forehead.
“Same as you,” she mumbles.
“And in the day?”
“Toast in the morning. I skipped lunch.”
Frowning, I grab a washcloth from the vanity and stretch to wet it beneath the faucet.
When I press it to Ellie’s forehead, she sighs.
“Must be a bug, then.”
Ellie sits back, clutching the flannel to her forehead. Her eyes look up to the left, and her brow draws into a perplexed v.
“What is it?”
When her mouth drops open, and her hand lowers from her forehead, I lean forward, worrying she’s going to be sick again. She shoves my shoulder, scrambling into a standing position and bending at the waist.
“What the hell, Ellie.” I’m on my feet in a flash, worrying she’s delirious and might be on the verge of fainting.
“I’m late, Colby,” she hisses.
I glance at my watch, wondering what the fuck she’s talking about. It’s the ass crack of dawn. There’s no way she needs to be in college at this ungodly hour.
“Not that kind of late. LATE.” She points at her stomach, and that’s when it hits me.
The night at Molly’s Motel. The broken condom. The vomiting.
Fuck.
I feel like I need to hold on to something: the vanity, the toilet, the wall. Ellie.
My heart is in my throat, beating with a racing urgency that feels strange enough to make me woozy. But I can’t be woozy right now. I have to consider Ellie and what she’s feeling. It’s my duty to give her what she needs.
“Get dressed,” I say quickly, thinking rapidly about what we need to do next. “I’ll meet you outside. We’ll go to the store and buy a test.”
Ellie nods, straightening and looking around the bathroom, her expression confused. I rest my hand on her arm. “Don’t worry. Whatever the result is, I’m by your side through everything. Do you understand?”
She nods and blows out a long breath, her dark eyes closing. Whether she wants to shut me out or just hide from the reality of the situation we could be about to face, I don’t know.
“Five minutes,” I say, waiting for her to breathe and open her eyes before accompanying her to the door.
As she disappears into her room and shuts it quietly, Micky returns with the water. “Where is she?” he says, glancing around the empty bathroom.
“We need to go to the store,” I say. “I’ll talk to you and Seb when we get back. If dad or Lara asks anything, just say we popped out for last-minute supplies for a presentation.”
“What kind of supplies?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Make it up.”
I brush past, planning what I need to do; find my black joggers, sneakers, and shirt; dress;sort out my messy hair; grab my keys, phone, and card; make it down the stairs without bumping into anyone.
Ellie’s already by the door, waiting. We exit the house in silence, head over to my car without discussion, and make it halfway to the store before either of us says a word. My mind is a tangle of thoughts and feelings, panic, and excitement.
Is it stupid that I feel excited about the possibility of Ellie being pregnant with my child?
I glance over at her, finding her fingers clutching her purse so tightly her knuckles are white. She looks so adorable in her cream sweater and joggers set with her hair tied into a messy bun. I just want to pull her into my lap and kiss the fuck out of her.
“Are you still nauseous?” I ask eventually. “You can open the window if you need fresh air.”
“I’m okay,” she says.
“I have water.” Tugging open the glove box, I grab a bottle and hand it to Ellie. She takes it and sips it slowly.
“My mouth tastes horrible,” she whispers.
“Drink a little. Not too much in case it makes you feel worse.”
I tap my fingers on the steering wheel, the buzzing in my body needing an outlet. The closest store that’s open this early is still another five minutes away.
Ellie lowers the bottle from her lips and stares out of the window blankly. Just a few hours ago, we were as intimate as two people can be, but now I feel like I’m a million miles away from her with a wall as tall as the sky between us. I wish I was better at understanding what she needs from me. I wish I had the empathy that Micky has or the ability to make her laugh like Seb. Sometimes, I feel a few steps outside the connection that the four of us have, a little less anchored by our relationship. But I can’t let that affect how I deal with this situation. I know that what happens in the next few minutes could be remembered forever.
“There’s a bathroom in this store. I think you should take the test there rather than at home.”
“Okay.” Ellie keeps her gaze fixed on the street and her grip tight on the water bottle.
I grit my teeth, imagining what it’s going to be like to go into the store and buy a pregnancy test. This isn’t something I’ve ever even thought about doing, but I won’t leave it to Ellie to make the transaction. I’m not sure she could do it without breaking down.
When we arrive at the store parking lot, I find a vacant space as close to the main entrance as I can. Jumping out of the car, I jog around to Ellie’s side to open it for her, but she’s already halfway out when I get there. Her eyes seem a little bloodshot, but I haven’t seen her cry.
My hand itches to reach out for her, to grasp her hand or hold her around her shoulders. I just want her close and for her to feel my steading presence. But she hugs her arms around herself like a shield, and I know she doesn’t want me to touch her. If nothing else, I’ve learned Ellie’s body language well over the past few years.
“Come on,” I say, locking the car.
We walk side by side, blinded by the low sun appearing behind the hulking store building. Ellie holds her hand up to shield her eyes, but I focus on the door.
There’s a chance, a very big chance, that I’m going to walk through this door as one kind of man and out of it another kind entirely. I’m an overgrown kid now, still living under our parent’s roof without responsibility for anything other than myself and getting decent enough grades to make something of my life.
If Ellie’s pregnant, I’m going to walk out of here a man with people depending on me.
A woman and a child. My woman and child.
The automatic door whooshes open, and we pass through into the frigid, air-conditioned building. Ellie immediately shivers. “The pharmacy is over here,” I say, pointing at the sign. We make our way past the vast displays of soda and chips that are on offer. The store is quiet, and large stacks of goods wait to be unloaded from steel cages.
The pregnancy tests are in the same aisle as the over-the-counter medicine and supplements; somehow, that doesn’t seem right. It’s not a treatment. It’s not for sale to fix an illness.
Grabbing the smallest box, I check Ellie’s expression.
She’s still clutching her purse like it’s stuffed with bullion.
We make our way to the nearest register, and Ellie hangs back while I take care of everything. After, I walk ahead, leading her to the restrooms where we’ll learn the truth.
I wish I could go in with her. I want to stand outside the stall so that she can feel my presence, but I’m confident that other women using the facilities wouldn’t welcome it.
Holding the door open, I try to come up with something reassuring to say, but I’m lost for words. This feels momentous. Ellie looks into my eyes as she passes, and I hope she sees reassurance rather than fear.
When the door shuts behind her, I press my back against the wall and close my eyes, but not for long. I glance at my watch, working out how long it’ll be before I should expect her to come out. Waiting isn’t something I’m good at. Patience is not my virtue.
I pace for the first minute, knowing she’s probably unwrapped the package and maybe peed on the stick by now. The test we chose provides results in two minutes.
Two fucking minutes. Can’t they produce a test that works faster?
After a minute, the door squeaks open behind me, and I whirl to find Ellie, eyes wide. “Are you okay? Did you do the test?”
She holds out the white plastic stick to me, her face strained. “I couldn’t wait in there alone. I just couldn’t. There’s another minute to go.”
We stare at each other for a second, like two people about to engage in a duel. Then, I decide I don’t give a fuck about how defensive Ellie’s body language is. I need her close to me. I need her to feel how much I love her.
Love is such a tiny word, but it holds the greatest significance.
I’ve denied the depth of my feelings for this girl for so long because they weren’t reciprocated, and maybe they’re still not, but I don’t care anymore.
When I throw my arm around Ellie’s slight frame, she’s rigid for a second, but then collapses into my chest. I hold her close, whispering that everything’s going to be fine because I believe it will be. She’s the girl I love, and we may or may not be having a child. Our circumstances aren’t the easiest, but people have gone through a lot worse.
Seconds pass, but it’s like we’re wading through water as time slows by the magnitude of the result we’re waiting for.
“Is it ready?” she asks softly.
Looking at my watch, I calculate there are another thirty seconds. “Not long now,” I murmur against her strawberry-scented hair.
A tired-looking man dressed in a security uniform passes us, staring at the odd picture we make. He disappears into the men’s restroom, and then we’re alone again. I should look now. I should be brave enough to find out, but I wait another ten seconds just to be sure. Then, with the girl I love curled in my arms, her face pressed to my heart, I finally raise the pregnancy test so I can see the result.
It’s positive.
My heart skitters and then thuds, racing too fast and then pausing with the momentousness of the result.
“It’s positive, isn’t it?” Ellie says without raising her head. “I can tell. You went really still.”
“It’s positive, honey,” I say.
“What are we going to do?” she whispers softly.
“We’re going to get in the car and go home, and then we’re going to talk to Seb and Micky about what you want to do next. But I need you to know that whatever you decide, you’re our girl. We’ll always be next to you through thick and thin.”
Her body trembles in my arms, and I worry that she’s going to cry, but instead, she draws back, looking up and searching my face.
I don’t know if she finds what she’s looking for in my expression, but when she turns to head out of the door, she reaches for my hand instead of walking alone.