Chapter One
Laynie
TWENTY-FIVE-YEARS-OLD
Crap, crap, crap, crap, crap!
I wish this wasn’t real, and that the stick said, ‘better luck next time’. But no. This time, luck is not in my favour. Luck has left the building, and all I feel is how completely luckless I am.
Lungs stinging as if I’ve inhaled splinters, I force down the massive lump of saliva wedged in the middle of my throat like it’s clogged with cotton balls. Leaning over the porcelain sink, I rub at my sweaty forehead, perspiration clinging to my armpits and hands.
How am I pregnant?
Of course, I know how it happened—I even know when it happened—but it doesn’t erase the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
The feeling of guilt, hopelessness, and in all honestly, disgust. Disgust with myself for giving in and sleeping with someone who I shouldn’t have slept with.
There was no gun pointed at my head, nobody threatening me to give everything to him.
I did it of my own volition, and that makes my stomach roil.
I might puke again, and this time it won’t be because of the morning sickness I’ve dealt with the past few weeks, but because of how I can’t stop staring at the two stupid, menacing lines.
Who decided to make them a soft pink? Did they really think that would soften the blow if the lines were a dainty shade rather than bold red reminding you of how much you screwed up?
Cheeks flushed, stomach twisting like a wrench, I bend over the toilet, throwing up the tingling bile that’s been steadily rising since I bought the test from the store in Rafter’s Falls.
I couldn’t buy one in Ashwood Creek. The whole town would have known in less than twenty minutes, and that’s the last thing I need right now.
Gossip spreads faster than peanut butter on bread.
I drove half an hour away just for this stupid little thing, but I had to.
I had to know for sure, even if it makes me queasy.
Hot tears stream down my face, adding to the heat in the room. Sweat clings to my fair hair, and mascara coats my skin in rivers of black. It’s quite a sight in the mirror, if I do say so myself, but I’m feeling too dreadful to care.
Once my stomach is empty, I lean against the cold tiled wall, staring up at the test on the basin.
This can’t be happening.
It was only one time.
The first and only time I’ve been with someone.
And he wasn’t Grayson.
A choked sob escapes my chest, and I drop my face in my hands, allowing myself to wallow in the privacy of my humid bathroom.
The quietness of my family’s home reminds me of how alone I am right now.
My parents are currently in Noosa on their year-long trip around the coast in a newly acquired caravan.
They’re probably lying on the beach in the sun, or swimming with colourful fish in the reef.
And here I am, drowning in my own tears over the stupidest thing I have ever done, and there have been quite a few over the years…
I need to call Macie, but I already know Reid is planning to propose to her today—well, officially ask her to be his girlfriend—and I really can’t ruin that. I would be the worst friend in the world to take away from her special day.
I could always call Grayson…
Shakily getting to my feet, I snatch my phone off the bench, ignoring the vile feeling sticking to the inside of my throat, and open it. Thumbing through names and numbers, my finger freezes over his name.
Grayson Lawson.
My best friend since I was four. The first person I clung to in pre-school and haven’t let go of since.
And the only guy I’ve ever loved.
My shoulders shake again as tears sting my eyes. I press them shut, my lips trembling uncontrollably as a wave of nausea rushes through me again. I gag into the sink, knowing very well that there’s nothing left in my stomach to get out.
Tossing my phone aside, I splash my face with cold water. The droplets cool me down enough for my stammering pulse to become more controllable as I lean against the bench. Eyes staring back at the girl in the mirror, I let a wretched cry burst from my chest.
Eight weeks ago, I was fine. I was still a virgin. I was patiently waiting for Grayson to fall for me. I knew he was it for me. I’ve known that since our third year of high school. That’s when my eyes reshaped into hearts for only him, and I no longer saw Grayson as only my friend.
We were in sports class, and Mrs Henderson was teaching everyone field hockey.
Grayson was a natural, which is no surprise since his entire family was gifted with sporty genes.
He was picked to be on the other team. As gutted as I was, I went up against him, which was definitely not the right choice.
One moment I was charging, the next I had a bruise on my thigh so big it felt like I’d shattered the bone.
I couldn’t walk to First Aid, so Grayson picked me up like I weighed nothing and carried me there himself.
With my legs hanging over his arm, and the other securing my back, I shouldn’t have looked him in the eyes as I held onto his neck, but I did.
I’m not sure what happened at that moment. The second that our eyes caught, I couldn’t tear my gaze away. I never thought of him the same way after that.
But now all my chances of being with Grayson have flown out the window, shattering the glass on its way out and flying far away. All because of that stupid plastic test.
Cringing, I grab my phone again, click on her name, and put the call on speaker. I stare through the mirror at my sunken eyes, rosy cheeks, and shiny skin until relief floods my veins at the sound of my cousin’s familiar voice.
“Laynie? What’s up?”
I sniff, the sound echoing off the walls.
I leave the bathroom on shaky legs. “H—hi—u-um,” I stutter, not knowing how to start the conversation.
Sadie is the closest family I have—both in age and distance—right now.
Living in Sydney, she’s still over an hour away, but my parents are even further.
And I really don’t want to disappoint them with this news.
They’ve waited their whole lives to travel in their caravan, so why shatter their dream right now?
“Are you okay?” Sadie’s sweet lilt comes through again as I walk into my bedroom and sink onto the mattress. It’s worn but comfortable, and my spare hand scrunches the flowery covers, grounding myself as I shake my head.
“No,” I barely whisper.
There’s movement on the other end, and I hear a car door slam. “What happened, Laylay?”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at her nickname for me. She’s two years younger than me, and she’s called me that since she first started talking. It stuck.
To be fair, though, I call her Didi in return.
My chest squeezes like it’s a lemon. The air becomes thinner and more humid.
Freddie jumps onto the bed. He stares up at me curiously.
He’s multi-coloured, with thick hair and round, green eyes.
Cats have a sixth sense. It’s been proven in science that they can sense sickness in humans, especially those they live with.
He’s always somehow known when something is bothering me.
The day Mum and Dad left for their twelve-month holiday, he wouldn’t leave my side for an entire day, and I didn’t want him to.
His tiny, fluffy paw comes out, tapping my thigh gently to grab my attention. I stroke his velvety hair and realise that he’s not purring, which is highly unusual for him. Maybe he can sense something is different with me.
“You can’t tell my parents this,” I breathe into the speaker as Freddie gently rubs his face against my stomach.
Okay, well, my cat certainly knows. Thanks for the heads up, buddy.
Sadie’s car revs to life in the background. “I won’t, I promise. But did something happen? You don’t sound good.”
My head nods instinctively. “Yeah.”
“Okay. What is it, then?”
My foot taps anxiously against the wooden floor as I swallow a lump of sludge.
I never used to be an anxious kid growing up.
I was always so bright, bubbly, and confident, never caring what people thought of me.
But over the past few years, the anxiety has crept its way into my mind, and I can’t seem to get rid of it.
This situation definitely isn’t helping it, either.
Swallowing again, I press down the warm, nauseating feeling. “Do you remember when I came to see you a few months ago?”
“Yeah…” she drawls cautiously.
“And we went out to that club because it was your friend’s birthday, and we thought it would be fun to try it out. I told you I went home to my rental for the night…” My fingers fiddle with the edge of my denim shorts nervously.
“Yeah?”
I clear my throat. “I didn’t go home, Sadie.”
“What?” Her voice rises a few notes, and I wince at the sharpness. “Where did you go?”
My lashes clamp shut as I sniff again, knowing that if there’s anyone I can tell in this world, it’s Sadie. She’ll understand, and I doubt she’d judge me.
“Umm…” I hum gently, rubbing my forehead. “I slept with someone.”
The gasp that comes through the phone almost deafens me. “What!” Sadie shouts, and I cringe. “Who? Is this why you’re upset? Did he do something to you?”
My head nods as I get to my feet again, too agitated to sit still. Freddie’s frog eyes watch me as I pace from the door to the window, one arm wrapped around my stomach and the other pressing the phone against my ear.
“Please don’t say anything to my parents until I do. Please,” I squeeze out, my voice cracking into another sob.
I hear Sadie’s car turn off again, knowing that she’s home, likely from the dance studio. She takes her phone off the car’s Bluetooth. “I won’t. You know me, I wouldn’t tell a soul unless you asked me to, but please let me help you, Laynie.”
My throat works roughly before I mumble, “Scott.”
There’s a long beat of silence that makes my stomach swirl faster. “Scott…” Sadie repeats, like she’s mentally stringing the dots together, too slowly for my liking.
“I slept with Scott,” I let out with a sigh.
She gasps again, only this time it’s quieter before she squeals, “Slept, as in…”
“As in I am having his baby, Didi!” I shout into the phone.
She winces softly.
I rub my forehead again, heat rising up my spine uncomfortably. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you. It’s just… a lot. I don’t know what is happening to me.”
“It’s probably your hormones,” she murmurs, and my jaw clenches. “They’ll be going crazy right now. It usually happens in the first trimester, and you might feel sick too, and then—”
“I know, Sadie. I already looked it up.” I exhale, fanning my face to keep my sweating at bay, although I doubt it’s working.
“Have you told him yet?” she asks. My head shakes, but she knows me well enough to know my answer without words. “You have to tell him, Laylay.”
“I don’t want to,” I whisper, knowing that it’ll make this even more real, and I really don’t think I can handle that phone call right now.
“You might not want to, but he has the right to know,” she reminds me. “He is the dad, after all.”
My eyes fall shut, knowing that she’s right. He is the dad, after all.
Gosh I might puke again.
I nod again, controlling my breathing as bile tickles my throat.
A knock sounds at the front door.
Collecting myself, I breathe through gritted teeth, “Someone is at my door. Can you send me Scott’s number?”
“You didn’t get his phone number?” Sadie sounds horrified, and now that I think about it, it does sound terrible.
My jaw clenches. “Again, I thought this was a one-time thing.”
“Right. Okay, I will send it now.”
“Thank you. I’ll call you later, all right?”
Her response is immediate. “Please do so I know that you’re okay.”
Ending the call, I toss my phone on the bed and head out to answer the door. I stop a few feet away, mortification rushing through my blood like ice.
What if it’s Grayson? What do I tell him? Can I even tell him?
The knocking starts again, and I inch towards the locked screen door, only to see Macie’s bright face fall at the sight of me.
Flushed cheeks, pinched face, and bright ginger hair, she stares at me in shock as I feel the overwhelming pressure once again.
Tears fall again as her arms swallow me in a comfortable hug.