CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ARIELLE
The negative test stayed in my purse until Saturday afternoon.
I also couldn’t throw it away.
It felt like proof of something I hadn’t decided how to feel about yet.
Cam picked me up at three for what he called the quiet part of my birthday. No family. No section. No photographers. He brought sweatpants because he knew I was tired of the black dress and drove us to Cooper River Park with takeout from my favorite seafood place.
We sat in his car facing the water because the wind was disrespectful outside.
For the first ten minutes, we ate and talked about nothing important. Domo had lost one of the club’s receipt books. Somebody’s cousin tried to walk out with a bottle. My mother had already posted nineteen birthday pictures, including one where my eyes were half-closed.
It felt normal enough that I almost kept the pregnancy scare to myself. Then, Cam reached for my hand and ran his thumb over the bracelet he gave me.
“You quiet,” he said.
“I’m tired.”
“That all?”
I looked at him.
He had asked the question gently. No attitude. No audience.
“My period is late.”
His thumb stopped moving. “How late?”
“Three days.”
Cam stared ahead through the windshield. “You took a test?”
“Last night.”
“And?”
“Negative.”
His shoulders lowered. “Okay. Good.”
The word struck something tender.
“Good?”
He looked at me. “You said negative.”
“I heard what I said.”
“I’m saying that’s what we wanted.”
“Is it?”
Cam put the food container in the cup holder. “Ari, we talked about this. You’re in school. I’m building stuff. A baby right now would be a lot.”
“I didn’t say I wanted one.”
“Then, why you looking at me like I said something wrong?”
Because I wanted one second of hesitation.
One second where the possibility of us making a person didn’t look like a problem already solved.
“I don’t know.”
He touched my knee. “If it had been positive, we would’ve handled it.”
I looked down at his hand. “Handled it how?”
“However you wanted.”
“That sounds like something people say when they don’t want to say what they want.”
His hand moved away. “What do you want me to do? Celebrate a pregnancy that doesn’t exist?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
The honest answer embarrassed me.
Choose me before I ask.
Want forever without needing a reason.
Make me feel like losing the possibility wouldn’t be the easiest outcome.
“I took Plan B,” I said. “It might be why I’m late.”
“Exactly. So, take another test in a few days and stop stressing yourself.”
He picked his food back up.
The conversation was over because he had found the practical answer.
I watched the water through the windshield and wondered why practical answers could still make a person feel lonely.
Cam reached across the console a few minutes later and squeezed my hand.
“You know I love you, right?”
“I know.”
He smiled. “Come here.”
I leaned over and let him kiss me.
On the drive home, he reposted one of my birthday pictures at a red light.
MY GIRL. HAPPY 20TH.
Within minutes, the comments filled with hearts, rings, and people telling us not to ever break up.
I looked beautiful in the picture.
Cam looked proud.
Nobody could see the pregnancy test in my purse or the silence that had sat between us by the water.
It only had to hold one second still.
At five twenty, my phone rang from an unfamiliar Pennsylvania number.
I almost let it go to voicemail.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Arielle Banks?”
“Yes.”
“This is Marcy, the host for the Poconos reservation next weekend. Brenae gave me your number when the booking was first made.”
I sat straighter in the passenger seat. “Okay.”
“I wanted to make sure your group understands the reservation is currently canceled. I’ve held the dates off the public calendar until Monday at noon, but I haven’t received the reinstatement payment.”
I turned toward the window.
Cam glanced at me.
“Nae said the bank was processing it.”
“There hasn’t been a successful payment. I’m happy to reinstate once the remaining balance and fee are received but, after Monday, I can’t guarantee availability.”
“How much is due?”
“One thousand three hundred forty-five dollars total.”
My pulse thudded in my ears.
The original final payment was twelve fifty. If the trip account had all of our money, why was nothing paid?
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll call you back.”
I ended the call.
“What happened?” Cam asked.
“The Airbnb got canceled.”
“I thought y’all paid.”
“So did I.”
I called Nae.
She declined it.
A message came through.
NAE: With Amir. Can I call you back?
ME: How much money is in the trip account?
The typing bubble appeared. Stopped. Appeared again.
NAE: I can explain.
My body went cold.
ME: How much?
No answer.
I called the group chat.
Kye answered first from her salon. She wore a hoodie and had one side of her hair pulled forward over her shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Jori joined from her bedroom, glasses on, papers spread behind her.
Nae came last. Amir was talking somewhere off camera.
I didn’t say hello. “How much money is left?”
Nae pressed her lips together. “Ari—”
“Just answer.”
“Seven forty was left after I—”
“After you what?”
Kye stopped moving.
Jori closed her eyes.
I saw it.
“You knew,” I said.
Jori opened them. “She told me this morning.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
“I told her she needed to tell you.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
“Ari, listen—” Nae began.
“No. I’ve been asking since yesterday. You let me sit at brunch thanking you for handling it.”
“I was trying to fix it.”
“With my money?”
“Our money,” Nae said, then looked like she wanted the words back.
The anger hit so fast, my eyes filled before I could stop them.
Cam glanced at me, then pulled into a parking lot without being asked.
“What did you spend it on?” I asked.
“Daycare and rent.”
“You could’ve called us.”
“I didn’t want everybody looking at me like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like I ruined something again.”
Kye spoke quietly, “How much you need?”
“I’m short forty-five now. Jori helped me.”
“You gave her money too?” I asked Jori.
“Two hundred.”
“So, everybody had a conversation about my birthday trip except me.”
“That’s not fair,” Jori said.
I laughed, wet and ugly. “What part?”
“The money belongs to all of us. And Nae was wrong, but she was about to lose daycare.”
“I would’ve helped her!”
Nobody answered.
“You don’t believe me?” I asked.
Nae’s face crumpled. “I believe you now.”
“Now?”
“I didn’t know how you’d react.”
“So, you decided for me.”
Kye looked down.
The motion caught my attention.
“What?” I asked her.
“Nothing.”
My anger shifted toward every missing answer at once.
“No. Everybody stop saying that to me.” My voice broke. “Stop deciding what I can know. Stop making me look stupid while y’all whisper and fix things behind my back.”
Kye went still.
Jori’s face changed.
Nae wiped her cheek.
I ended the call before one of them could soothe me into accepting less than the truth.
Cam waited.
“You want me to take you home?” he asked.
“No. Take me to Nae’s.”
“Ari, you upset.”
“I know where I’m going.”
He studied me, then pulled back onto the road.
Twenty minutes later, I stood outside Nae’s apartment with my birthday bracelet on one wrist and my purse hanging from the other.
She opened the door before I knocked twice. Her eyes were swollen. Amir stood behind her holding the plastic dinosaur. The wall across from the couch was empty.
No television.
The graduation bracelet she wore to every important event was gone from her wrist.
A red notice laid folded on the kitchen counter.
For one second, my anger had to make room for what her life looked like when nobody was taking pictures.
Nae stepped aside. “I’m sorry,” she said.
I walked into the apartment and closed the door. “I need you to tell me everything,” I said. “Not the version you think I can handle.”