As they talk about the slippery stairs on the show and how one girl is almost to the top, a rush of nausea hits me. I’ve had a few queasy moments, but no real morning sickness.
Great, I manifested it with my lie. Karma is here to teach me a lesson.
I get up and walk toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Hayes asks, and everyone turns to look at me.
A sharp comeback is on my tongue, but my gaze snags on Monroe. “Bathroom,” I mutter.
“Are you okay? You look pale,” Mom asks, half rising off her chair.
“I have to go too,” Foster mumbles and comes alongside me. “I’ve got her, Jennifer.”
What is he doing? He’s drawing more attention to us. I’m practically ready for Hayes to ask what the hell is going on, but Monroe asks him if they can make guacamole tomorrow for National Guacamole Day.
Thank you, Monroe.
I step out of the room, and Foster shuts the door behind me. Ruby eyes me from the bar, and I feel like I did the first time I smoked pot and was so paranoid I convinced myself the police were watching me through the windows.
I smile and walk toward the bathroom hallway, stopping outside of the men’s.
“You need to snap out of it,” I whisper, “and order a damn beer.”
His head draws back. “Sorry if I’m not even done processing the fact that I’m going to be a father,” he whispers back. “And then I go into that bridal store and find you wearing a wedding dress.”
I tilt my head. “Your worst nightmare, right? Well, don’t worry about it, big guy. I’m not expecting you to go down on bended knee just because your dick shoots magic sperm.” He looks as though he wants to say something, but I continue on. “If you don’t start acting like your grumpy, pissed-off self, they’re going to figure out that something is going on.”
“Me getting you pregnant is the last thing they’ll think happened.” He frowns.
I rear back. “Excuse me? Why? Am I not good enough for you to sleep with?”
“Fuck, Callie, no. I just meant because as Hayes’s best friend, I should’ve kept my hands in my pockets and my tongue in my damn mouth. And I definitely should’ve kept my dick in my pants.”
He was a good kisser. Rushed, but good.
He sighs and takes off his ball cap, setting it back on his head right away. “I feel guilty as shit. Does Leighton know it’s me?”
“She suspects, but I haven’t told her.”
His lips press together. “She acts like she knows. Maybe we shouldn’t wait to tell your brother. We should just go in there and tell him.”
I give him a what the fuck look. “Um… no. My mom is in that room. I get it. I do. I hate keeping this from him. It’s all I can think of when we’re with him. And poor Leighton. But we agreed to wait until we saw the doctor.”
He sucks in a breath then nods. “Right. What if… the tests are wrong?”
I haven’t told Foster that if he read the box of the pregnancy test, he’d see that it’s unlikely they could all be faulty, but I also understand seeing a doctor and getting the news from a professional before we scream it from the rooftops and explode our world. I honestly have no idea how my brother is going to take this news.
“Regardless, you’re going in there and ordering a beer.” I thumb in the direction of the backroom.
“I can’t.”
“Why? I’m sorry, are you the one who is currently growing a human being in your body?”
He shrugs. “I’m not, but you are.”
“What does that mean?”
Foster looks at me as though he’d rather spit razor blades than confess whatever he’s thinking.
