“I’m sure it’s fantastic.”
“Or it’s garbage and I’m about to waste the last three months of my life.” I tossed my crust back into the box. “Submitting this is the last step, and then…waiting game.”
Maria reached for the coffee table to drop her plate but missed completely. It flopped onto the floor. She sighed like the world had just ended.
I rolled my eyes, scooped it up, and tossed it. On my way back, I grabbed my essay and the gift bag. Shoving both into her lap, I squeezed onto the couch beside her.
Her brows arched. “What’s this?”
“Just some essentials. You know—for when you’re officially someone’s mom and have zero time to shower.”
She dug into the tissue paper like a kid at Christmas. Out came fuzzy socks, a giant chocolate bar, a self-care kit, and a mug that read “Good Moms Say Bad Words.” She laughed so hard her belly wobbled like a water balloon. “You are ridiculous. And I love it.”
“Good. Now balance that out by tearing me to shreds.” I handed her the essay.
Maria put on an exaggeratedly serious face, pushing up invisible glasses like she was about to deliver a presidential address. She cleared her throat loudly. “‘Education is the doorway to a brighter future,’” she declaimed, voice booming.“Really,hermana? Adoorway? What are you, a motivational poster from 1997?”
I groaned and face-planted into a pillow. “It sounded better in my head!”
“Mm-hmm.” She flipped the page with a dramatic flourish. “‘With dedication, I can achieve anything I set my mind to.’ Classic. Very Miss America. Do you also dream of world peace?”
I hurled a pizza crust at her. “Keep reading. It gets better. I swear.”
She grinned but continued, her voice softening as she reached the middle. “‘As a survivor of sexual assault, I understand that resilience isn’t just a word—it’s a fight. College is my chance to reclaim the future that was almost stolen from me.’”
Her hand dropped, eyes shining with unshed tears. “Oh, Holly…”
I jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t youdarecry. You’re basically a human water balloon right now. If you cry, I cry, and then it’s Niagara Falls in here.”
She sniffled, laughing wetly. “It’s just pregnancy hormones.”
“Uh-huh.” My cheeks burned, but I forced a smirk. “Finish it before I regret letting you touch it.”
She shook her head fondly, eyes darting back to the page. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know? You sound strong. Like someone who knows who she is.”
“Fake it till you make it.” I picked at a piece of pepperoni. “Now, are you gonna keep roasting me, or—”
A sharp intake of breath cut me off and I looked over at her. Maria’s eyes had widened to the size of saucer plates, and she was staring at her belly.
“Uh… Holly?”
“What?” My stomach dropped at her tone.
“Either I just peed myself…or your essay broke my water.”
The slice slid out of my hand, landing face-down on the carpet. “Oh my God. Oh my God!”
Her deadpan stare did nothing to calm me. “Don’t panic.”
“I’m not panicking,” I lied, already tripping over myself to grab the hospital bag.
“Ok. Hospital bag—where is it?”
“Hall closet.” She winced, shifting on the couch. “And for the love of God, hurry.”
I bolted, grabbed the duffel, and came back to find her struggling to stand. “How do you plan on fitting me into your Barbie car?”
“Sally is not a Barbie car.” I hooked an arm under her. “She is aclassic. And she’s about to be the classiest ambulance in town.”
