Chapter 6
Six
KARA
The boys and I load the last few storage bins into the back of the trucks before hopping in to head out from the campsite. Part of me is still tickled pink that we were so loud that we got kicked out, and the other part of me is actually a little devastated. Zeke was clear that we didn’t have to commit to anything. We can just be casual. That’s great, except at some point last night when I was looking into his eyes, I realized I don’t want casual. How do I tell them that though?
I had hoped we could experiment for a few more days and that would help me get comfortable enough to talk about it, but that’s clearly not an option. Things are going to feel too awkward at home, so this feels a bit like the end. Not one of them mentioned pursuing something permanent, but I know it’s for my benefit. They don’t want to push me. Warm fuzzies fill me up when I think of how considerate they are, but I also want them to push for what they want. Not just what they think I want. Confusing, right?
We stop on the way out for Zeke to profusely apologize at his insistence, then hit the highway to get home again. When we are a few minutes into the drive, Troy gasps from the backseat and I wait for him to sit up and hit us with his brilliant idea. The first time he did this, I almost swerved off the road. After a few times, I got used to it, though. Now I can tell the difference between his “I have an idea” gasp and his “I saw something terrifying in traffic” gasp. Yes, they are different.
“OMG we should totally listen to love songs on the way home!”
Zeke is already mostly out, so I laugh and tell him to go ahead and take over. He creates a Spotify jam session, taking my phone to add me to it. Now he can play music through his phone but still keep mine synced to the car for calls and GPS. Troy fills up the playlist, and soon enough we have all the sappy love songs someone could want. He’s so ridiculous and I love it.
Once we make it home and everyone is settled back in, we go about our daily routines and the camping “event”, as I’m calling it, hasn’t been brought up at all. I’m not sure if they’re avoiding the topic, or just trying not to pressure me, but I know that I’m for sure avoiding the topic. Despite hours of thinking, I still can’t figure out what I want. Why start the conversation when I don’t know where I want it to go? I really wish we’d had more time at the campsite. I think that would have been helpful.
Instead of adulting and talking about my feelings, I throw myself back into my job. Right now I work in the financial department of one of the bigger businesses in town. My goal is to get a job as CFO someday, but I have at least five more years before I can make that happen. Numbers make sense to me, and I have a natural affinity for getting along with people, so it always felt like the right direction. I can work with people and numbers, playing to both of my strengths.
It gets to the point where I’ve now gone almost a month without physically seeing the guys. We still chat with text messages and the odd gaming session, but any time someone brings up a gathering, I find a reason not to go. The four of them live together, so it’s really just me that’s not present. Apparently, they’re sick of me missing because they informed me via text this morning that they are coming over for the day. It wasn’t an ask.
Honestly, I’m really not in the mood to see anyone. I’m absolutely exhausted and random waves of nausea have been plaguing me for a week now. I know it’s because I’m working too hard, so I just want to lie back and relax. They aren’t arriving until noon, so I take the morning to tidy up my house a bit. I own a modest size two-bedroom house and it’s my pride and joy. I’m the only one who lives here, so it’s easy to keep clean. Unless I’ve been working too much and too exhausted to clean.
The guys show up right at noon, and while I’ve been avoiding them, I’m so happy to see them. I’m smiling like an idiot and internally kicking myself for staying away. After lots of hugs and smiles, we promptly sit down to game. When I say “game” I mean an overly intricate game with cards and rules and convoluted ways of winning. We can’t play anything that doesn’t allow for a shit ton of smack talk and multiple chances to stab people in the back. We used to play Monopoly, but eventually we needed something with more strategy involved. Monopoly got too predictable. Troy also always kicked our ass and rubbed our noses in it.
When we finally wrap up the game, it’s dinner time and I’m actually starving. Zeke begrudgingly agrees to order pizza for us — only after Dan calls him “Daddy Zeke” — and we all settle around in the living room to pick out a movie. Troy pushes for drama, but the rest of us want some action, so it’s the latest action movie that’s picked. I didn’t catch the name but there’s a car chase and explosions, so I’m happy. The doorbell rings and I decide to give Zeke a break and get up to grab the pizzas.
“Did you tip on the phone?” I ask Zeke as I put my hand on the doorknob.
“Yup, he should be all set.”
I open the door, grab our massive order, thank the driver, and lay everything out. Zeke managed to tick the boxes with this one. We’ve got all meat, all veggie, hawaiian, and what looks like a chicken alfredo pizza. We also have regular breadsticks and cheesy breadsticks. I grab a couple of cheesy breadsticks and a piece of Hawaiian and the chicken one. We settle back in and Flynn raises his eyebrow at me.
“You got the pizza with pineapple on it?” he asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“You hate pineapple.”
“No I don’t.”
“Yes you do. The last time we ordered it for Dan you were complaining about how gross the combo of sweet and salty is and how something as healthy as fruit shouldn’t be allowed on pizza.”
I sniff. “Maybe I’m widening my horizons. You should try it.”
Flynn laughs and shakes his head at me, giving me another odd look before turning back to the movie. The next thing I know, I’m being gently jostled awake by someone’s hand on my shoulder. I sit up suddenly, confused about what’s going on.
“Wha?”
“Hey, it’s okay. You just crashed during the movie. You never sleep during movies,” Zeke says softly.
I stretch and groan.
Must be more tired than I realized. Zeke’s right, I never fall asleep during movies.
“I’ve been doing a lot of extra work. Apparently it’s catching up to me.” I tell him.
He reaches over and brushes a piece of hair out of my face. “I’ve missed you, love. Promise you won’t hide for so long again?”
“I’ll try.” I smile.
Zeke leaves me a chaste kiss on the forehead before getting up off the couch. The guys have packed up all the pizza and there’s a box of leftovers being slid into my fridge while they take the rest. Once they all have shoes on, they all stand at my door, waiting to say goodbye like a mini line of VonTrapp children. I stand and stretch one more time before giving hugs and saying goodnight.
“Thanks guys, I needed this,” I tell them.
“Any time, sweet girl,” Dan says.
Once I close the door, my mind begins to spin.
Tired. Nauseous. Weird food .
Fuck. I can’t be, right?
There’s no way. I take my birth control religiously. I’m sure it’s fine. Just to be extra sure, I put in a delivery order from the local pharmacy and it’s at my door just an hour later. I thank the driver and crawl into bed. From what I read while waiting for delivery, the morning will give me the best results. I drop off to sleep as I try to calculate the last time I had my period in my head.
The morning wakes me with sunshine streaming in my window. I slept great last night. Seeing the guys must have relaxed me more than I realized. As I lay there, I rethink everything from last night. I decide I’m overreacting. I’ve been working a ton of hours, my eating has been sporadic as a result, and I’ve honestly never tried the pineapple on pizza, so it was time to see what the fuss was about. It’s nothing.
When I walk into the bathroom, the box is sitting on my counter, all but taunting me, and I decide to open it.
I have to pee anyway, right?
May as well be sure, even though I know it’s going to be negative. Don’t want to be wasteful. Once I’ve finished, I set the test face down on the counter and throw on some lounge clothes for the day. It’s gonna be a lazy one. I clearly have been pushing myself too hard. Once I’m freshly dressed and I’ve got dry shampoo in my hair, I check the time.
I think it’s been long enough. Why am I suddenly nervous? I know it’s going to be negative. In an effort to find my Zen, I take a deep breath, hold it, then release slowly. I repeat a few times to calm my nerves and decide to just own up. Let’s do this. I flip the stick over and check.
“Well, fuck.”