by Chloe Walsh
"I'm just getting used to Mr. and Mrs. fucking Smith over there and their deranged version of love," Mase added, pointing to where Rourke and Mercy were sucking face, "without y'all starting up on this side of the table."
Rolling his own napkin up, Daryl threw it back at his friend, smacking him right between the eyes.
"Speaking of nauseous," Mercy interjected, tearing her mouth off Rourke's to turn and grin at me. "How's the stomach, Molls?"
Mason's brows shot up. "What's that now?"
"Oh, nothing," Mercy mused in a teasing tone. "Just that your girl over there threw her guts up in biology earlier."
Concern flooded Daryl's eyes. "You were sick?"
"Only because we were dissecting a cow's heart, you traitor!" I bit out, mortified that my so-called friend brought up the unfortunate incident in front of everyone. "Raw and bloodied body parts should never be assigned when it's this freaking hot outside. The smell alone was enough to –" I slapped a hand over my mouth, gawking at the memory of the smell that, hours later, still seemed to be stuck in my nose. "Ugh, I can't even say it…"
"Uh-huh, you keep on telling yourself that," Mercy cackled, thoroughly amused by my discomfort. "But we both know what you're hiding under those baggy hoodies."
"You bitch," I choked out, as everyone around us gasped and stared.
"So the rumors are true," Mason choked out, wide-eyed. "Holy shit!"
"I knew it," Bear muttered, shaking his head.
"No, the rumors are not true," I shot back, red-faced.
"More sweet lies, darlin'," Reebo offered with a wink.
"I'm not lying!" Beyond mortified, I swung my gaze to Daryl. "Tell them," I snapped. "Tell them that I'm not pregnant!"
Instead of putting the fire out like I had expected, Daryl threw his head back and laughed. "How much longer are you gonna make me lie to our friends, Molls? I mean, why can't we just tell them our happy news?"
"You…" I gasped, pointing a finger at him. "You… fucking fucker!"
"He might be a fucker," Mercy waggled her brows, "but he's a fucker who fucked you good enough to make you pregnant, huh, Molls?"
"For the last time," I narrowed my eyes, "I am not pregnant."
"Sure thing, Peterson," Rourke goaded, jumping in on the action. "But we've all read Hamlet."
"Yeah," Mason snickered. "The lady doth protest too much, methinks."
"Assholes," was all I replied, glaring at my so-called friends. "Every last one of y'all is a gigantic asshole."
40 Daryl
"You ready for tomorrow, son?"
"Yes, sir."
"Everything you've worked for, all of the sacrifices you've made, it all comes down to tomorrow night. You've gotta leave it all on the field, son. No regrets."
"I know, Coach."
"Y'all will have all the time in the world for girlfriends once you bring home state, but I need your head in the game, which means an early night tonight in your own bed, with no distractions."
"Yes, sir."
"I need my quarterback's head in the game. I need him in control. Cool, calm, collected, focused. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, alright. I'll see you on the field, son. We've got a lot of work to get through this morning."
"Yes, coach."
Hanging up the call, I tossed my phone on my girlfriend's unmade bed and sighed.
"Was that Coach?"
"Yep."
"It's five-thirty in the morning," Molly grumbled, appearing in the adjoining bathroom doorway, toweling her damp hair. "Can't they give you five minute's peace?"
"After tomorrow night, I'll have all the peace I want," I reminded her, feeling a nervous shiver roll through me. "Fuck, I can't believe it's almost over for me."
"The season?"
"High school football."
"Remember when you played in the pee-wee leagues?" Smiling, she stepped into the room and walked straight for me. "I used to come and watch you play every weekend."
"Yeah." I smirked at the memory. "I remember you coming to my games and then cussing out the other players from the sidelines."
"Hey, I was trying to support my best friend," she laughed. "Even back then, I knew you were gonna be a star."
I shook my head. "I'm not a star, Molls."
"Yeah, you are, D." Reaching up on her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Own it."
When we pulled into the parking lot at school an hour later, the adrenaline that had been steadily rising inside of me was close to exploding.
You can do this, Daryl.
One last practice.
One more game.
Reckoning time.
Feeling pumped for practice, I headed towards the entrance, not realizing that I had lost my girlfriend until I reached the main door.
Quickly backpedaling, I jogged back to the parking lot and found Molly leaning against the side of my truck.
"Molls?" I called out, breaking into a run now as I watched her keel over. "Babe?" Closing the space between us, I hooked an arm around her small frame to steady her trembling body. "What's wrong?"
"I'm fine, I'm just…" Swallowing rapidly, she hunched over and dragged in several slow, steadying breaths. "Cramping."
"Cramping?" Awareness slowly dawned on me. "Shit." Wincing in sympathy, I unlocked the door of my truck before helping her back into the passenger seat. "Period coming in?"
"Must be," she bit out, doubled over on the seat. "Sorry about this."
"Don’t be dumb," I coaxed, rubbing her back. "It ain't like you can help it, Dolly."
"I'm, ah, I'm gonna wait here a little while until these cramps ease up."
"I'll stay with you," I offered, concern filling my gut now. "Or I can take you home –"
"No, you can't miss practice," she croaked out, nostrils flaring as she shifted around in discomfort. "It's your last one before the big game tomorrow."
I shook my head. "It doesn't matter –"
"Yes, it does," she quickly cut me off. "Go to practice, D. I'll catch up with you at lunch."
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
I wasn’t sure about this.
Not one goddamn bit, but I also knew that Coach would have my balls if I didn’t make practice.
"I'm gonna call Mercy," I said, pulling my phone out of my pocket and quickly dialing. "She'll come sit with you until you feel better."
"Mmm-hmm." She nodded weakly. "Whatever you say."
41 Molly
I was regretting every meal I had ever eaten in conscious memory.
Thankfully, my body waited until my boyfriend left for practice before turning on me.
Regrettably, I hosed the door of his Chevy with chunks before Mercy hoisted me into her Comet and drove me home – but not before making a quick pitstop at the pharmacy first.
"Dude, you are totally pregnant."
"Mercy!" I cried out in between heaves as I emptied this morning's Cheerios into the toilet bowl. "Why would you even say that?"
"Uh, maybe because it's the most logical explanation for morning sickness?" she offered back from her perch on my bathroom sink, as she filed her nails. "This is so wild. Rourke is going to be so stoked that it's not us."
"Oh my god, don’t tell anyone!" I practically screamed before throwing my guts up once more. "I'm not even preg –" More vomit than I knew could be housed in a 90lb human body exited my mouth with a flourish. "Help me…"
"I will –" she pointed to the rectangular box at my feet, "when you take the test."
"I don’t need a test, Mercy, I know my own body –" More vomit.
"Yes, you do," she pushed. "You guys didn’t use protection your first time, and your periods are irregular. You don’t have a damn clue when you're due, and now you're hurling your guts up – oh, and not to be insensitive, but, bitch, you've packed on at least fifteen pounds since school started up. You are the poster girl for someone who needs to take a test."
"La, la, la – I
'm not listening to you!"
"Not listening to me won't change the fact that you've got yourself a big old intruder in there," she mused. "Damn girl. Have you even thought about what giving birth to Daryl King's super-sized spawn is going to do to your itty bitty vag –"
"Shut up, Mercy!"
"Hormones…"
Tears filled my eyes and I erupted like a freaking waterfall. "I'm not pregnant," I sobbed, clinging to the porcelain bowl for all I was worth. "I can't be."
"Listen, Molls, you're not dying here," Mercy attempted to coax. "This isn’t necessarily the worst thing in the world –"
I turned to glare at her.
"Okay, it's pretty bad," she conceded, holding her hands up. "And the worst possible timing, but it's not the end of the world."
"It will be the end of my world, Mercy."
"Well, there's only one way to find out and that's if you take the test," she coaxed, hopping down from the sink. "Once we know for sure, we can figure it out, okay?"
Sniffling, I nodded. "Y-yeah, ok-kay."
No.
No.
No.
No.
No!
This wasn't happening.
This couldn’t be happening.
I willed it not to happen, dammit.
Closing my eyes, I wished like I had never wished before.
But when I dared another peek at the screen, I quickly learned that wishes were bullshit.
"Fuck my life," I croaked out, breathing hard and feeling faint. "Fuckety fuck!"
In utter denial, I futilely rejected the drastic change in course my life was about to take. The very same future that was remapping before my very eyes – courtesy of two pink lines.
42 Molly
Mercy: Well, it's been a few hours since your world was blown the hell up. Have you calmed down yet?
Molly: Not even close…
Mercy: What are you gonna do?
Molly: No clue…
Mercy: What about the emergency appointment with my mom's gyno that I managed to snag for this afternoon? Are you gonna go?
Molly: I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?
Mercy: If you don’t want to keep it, I'll go with you. Nobody has to know…
Molly: OMG Mercy, no! Stop! Don’t even think that!!!!
Mercy: What?? I'm just saying that you have options, dude. You weren't put on earth to be anyone's human incubator. It's your body.
Molly: I couldn’t. I don’t…. that's not an option for me.
Mercy: Fair enough but I at least had to point it out.
Molly: I love you for offering to take me, though.
Mercy: Always, bitch. I've got your back. What about adoption?
Molly: I'm not that strong.
Mercy: So, we're having the baby?
Molly: I don’t know?
Mercy: Sounds like you kinda do, Molls.
Mercy: Or should I call you MOM?
Mercy: I won't be offering to change shitty diapers. Fair warning.
Molly: Omfg……. There's a baby inside of me. An actual freaking baby! How is that possible, Merc? Most days, I feel like I'm STILL a baby. I can't do this!
Daryl: You feeling better, Dolly?
Molly: Omg, that's Daryl! He just text me!!!!
Mercy: Oh fuck!!!
Molly: What do I do?
Mercy: DON'T TELL HIM YET!!!!
Molly: Why not???
Mercy: Because it's the night before the state championship, dummy! Do you want to completely derail the boy's life?
Molly: Omg. I forgot!
Mercy: I mean, of course, you should absolutely tell him. This is his mess as much as it is yours. Just WAIT until the game is over.
Dad: Molly-Sue, my flight was on time for a change. I'll be home for dinner tonight. See you soon, sweetheart.
Molly: Noooooooooooooooooo….
Mercy: Shit, Jesus, what!!!
Molly: My dad's on his way home.
Mercy: Bitch, your life is like a car crash reality tv show. Lol. Lol.
Daryl: Dolly?
Molly: Oh crap, I forgot to text him back.
Mercy: Who???
Molly: Daryl.
Molly: I haven't texted Dad back, either…
Mercy: Text him!!!
Mercy: Daryl – text Daryl. Do not, I repeat DO NOT text your father.
Molly: And say what????
I kept my eyes glued to the speech bubble on the screen of my phone, indicating that Mercy was typing back, and willed her to hurry the heck up.
However, I never got to read her advice because Daryl chose that exact moment to call me.
"Breathe," I instructed, puffing and panting, as I paced my bedroom floor with my phone held out in front of my body like it was the enemy. "Just breathe."
Finally, after the ninth ring, I mustered up the courage to swipe accept.
"Hey, D."
"Baby." His deep southern drawl filled my ears and I shivered. "You feeling any better?"
"Yep." Grimacing, I swallowed deeply and continued my pacing. "I'm all better now."
"Good," he said, sounding genuinely relieved. "I got Mercy's text about y'all cutting school, but fuck, I couldn’t stop worrying about you all day."
"You shouldn't even be thinking about me right now," I said, chewing on my thumbnail anxiously. "Your entire focus should be on tomorrow's game."
"My entire focus is only ever on you, Dolly," he shot back and I swear my heart wilted. "You sure you're okay now?"
My breathing increased because lying to him wasn’t something I felt comfortable doing. This felt all wrong, wrong, wrong!
"D?" I croaked out, swallowing down a mouthful of bile.
"Yeah, baby?"
I blew out a ragged breath. "D."
"Dolly, I'm listening."
Daryl, I'm pregnant.
I'm pregnant, Daryl.
I'm really sorry but my womb just screwed us both.
I'm having your baby.
We're going to be parents.
You can put a rush on that child support check…
Surprise; happy finding out that you're going to be a daddy day!
I rehearsed the words over and over in my mind before finally blurting out, "I'm late," and then slapped my forehead for my absolute idiocy.
You are way beyond late, dude, Mercy's imaginary voice infiltrated my thoughts and I balked.
"You are? For what?" Daryl replied. "I kinda need to stay at home tonight, but I can drive you wherever you need to be."
This wasn't something a guy should be told over the phone.
Get a grip, Molly!
Don’t do this to him. You'll ruin his chance at state…
"Handing in my history assignment," I choked out and then cringed in shame. "I'm late handing in my history assignment. Today was the deadline."
"Is that it?" he laughed. "God, you really are a nerd."
"Uh, yep." I forced out a humorless laugh. "Total nerd here."
"I should probably get going," he said then, sounding distracted, as loud voices boomed in the background. "I'll see you at the game tomorrow?"
"Unless…" I sucked in a sharp breath, needing to feel his arms around my body right now. Needing to hear the words 'it's going to be okay' from his mouth. "I know you have to stay at home on a game night, but I could come over…I mean, just for a little while if you wanted to, uh, hang out and talk?"
"That's not a good idea. Things are a little hectic at home right now," he quickly shut me down, tone hushed now. "I'll just see you at the game tomorrow, okay? You're still coming, right? We can hang out afterwards. Besides, your dad flies back into town tonight, right? You guys should spend some time together."
"Oh, yeah, okay." Blinking back the tears that were filling my eyes, I nodded. "Uh-huh. I'll be there."
"Okay." He sighed in contentment. "I love you, Dolly."
"I love you, too, D," I squeezed. "Bye."
Ending the call before I had a meltdown, I qu
ickly dialed Mercy's number.
"Hey, it's me," I sniffled when she answered. "I could really use a ride to that appointment if the offer's still on the table?"
"Of course." She sighed softly. "I'm on my way, bitch."
43 Daryl
It was the night before state, and my mind was racing with a million thoughts a minute. Problem was, not a single one of those thoughts consisted of tomorrow night's football game.
No, I couldn’t think about tomorrow because I was too busy trying to survive tonight.
Instead of sitting down to prayer-led dinner with my family like the rest of my teammates were currently enjoying, I was attempting to navigate my way through the shitstorm that had settled over my head.
Hell, never mind a shitstorm; a category five hurricane had blown through our kitchen and was heading straight for me.
Apparently, Martha fucking Thomas sought out my mother at the store this afternoon to tell her all about the terrible rumor's her little angel Ashley had been hearing about me at school.
According to Ashley, not only was I dating Molly Peterson, but apparently, I had managed to knock her up, too.
"Is that her?" Mom demanded, hands on her hips, as she followed me into the hallway. "On the phone with you now?"
Thankful that Molly had already ended the call, I slid my phone back into my jeans pocket. "Are we done talking about this? Can I go now?"
"Can you go?" Mom's eyes bulged. "No, you cannot go, Daryl."
"I've already told you that it's bullshit," I replied, jaw ticking. "I didn’t get anyone pregnant, Mama."
"Get your ass in this kitchen, boy, or I'll drag you in here kicking and screaming!" Wren roared from the doorway, treating me like I had been caught trying to steal the crown jewels.
I'd like to see you fucking try, I thought to myself.
Mom, hot on her darling husband's heels, was coming in a strong second, as she pointed her manicured finger in my face. "Wren's right. You're going to sit your ass down and explain to us why Ashley would make something like this up."
And then there was my little sister Sophie, who was sobbing into her hands at the kitchen table.