by Julia Gray
"Sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to startle you."
"Oh." I laugh. "It’s fine. I'm not usually so jumpy." I sit on the bed and watch Sam stare at my long, slim legs. He quickly sits next to me and starts kissing my neck. My heart races and it makes my stomach churn even more like I ate something bad.
No, not the nausea.
I try not to think about how awful it would be if I threw up right now, but trying to control myself makes me anxious. My pinky finger twitches and I pull away from Sam and take a deep breath. He has a confused look on his face.
"Look," he says, backing away. "I thought you were into me, but if you're not-"
"No," I cut in. "It's not that it's just . . . I have a lot on my mind."
"Let me help you forget," he says playfully. He leans in, placing a hand on my hip. I stop him when I feel a surge of morning sickness wash over me. I take a few breaths and settle myself. It must be his cologne. What I ate for dinner. What I didn't eat for dinner. Not eating enough at dinner. Something.
"Sorry," I mutter. I contemplate telling him the truth. What's the worst that could happen? He is a total stranger.
He could blab to Myra.
Sam's look of confusion quickly turns to frustration. He scratches his chin and puts more distance between us. I adjust the hem of my dress and gently clutch my stomach. I grab a strand of my hair and force a flirty smile.
"You need a drink," Sam says. He stands up and reaches for my hand. "Let me get you one."
"Sam." I clear my throat and glance around the room.
"I know," he chuckles. "Snogging in a kid's room isn't the most romantic gesture."
He lightens the mood when he helps me up and puts his arm around me.
"Sam," I say again. "I have a friend who is going through something."
"Hold on, are you asking me for advice?" he jokes.
"My friend doesn't know what to do," I lie. "It doesn’t hurt to hear an outside opinion, does it?"
"I suppose not." He grins. "Go on then. Get it off your chest so we can have some fun tonight."
"Really?" I haven't talked about my pregnancy with anyone else but Alana. I have never admitted this to anyone out loud but her. My pinky finger twitches when I open my mouth to ask Sam what he thinks of pregnant girls. "Well my friend, her name is Alana, she just found out that she is pregnant."
I study Sam's face. He is staring at the top of my dress where the fabric touches my collar bone. He shrugs, hardly batting an eye when I say the word pregnant. Maybe he didn't hear me?
"I said she is pregnant," I repeat.
"Oh," he replies. "Well, cheers to your friend." He chuckles and begins walking down the staircase.
"No," I correct him. "This is not a good thing, Sam."
"Oh. What did the father say about it?"
"She hasn't exactly told the father yet," I respond.
"What a load of rubbish." He laughs. I stop on the top stair and watch him laugh at my expense. "Has she thought about getting rid of the thing?"
My eyes go wide when he says it. My cheeks feel warm, and my blood boils. My reaction sends my heart rate soaring. My stomach rumbles, and instantly I feel more nausea. It is stronger than before. I take a step back.
"How can you-"
I can hardly finish my sentence. The vomit is coming. I run back into the bedroom and bend over to let it out. I pray that Sam doesn't follow. Footsteps jog up behind me, and then they suddenly stop.
"It's you, isn't it?" Sam's voice is low and sincere. "You are the one who is pregnant."
I hurriedly wipe my mouth and turn around.
"If it helps at all," I gulp. "I really do have a friend named Alana."
"Paige-"
"Don't," I interrupt. "I don't want your pity or your sympathy, okay. Just promise me you will keep your mouth shut."
He nods and looks at me like I'm lying in a hospital bed waiting to be rolled into an operating theater.
"You know, it's too bad." He takes a deep breath. "You and I could have had loads of fun."
"You're acting like I'm dying or I just told you I am a man or something." I step out of the bedroom and shut the door behind me, distancing us from the evidence that points to my baby bump.
"You might as well be," he mutters.
I put a hand on my hip and glance down at my dress which feels even looser now. I am lucky that it is puke-free. I knew I should have stayed away from him. My gut told me that getting involved with someone right now was a horrible idea. Now some guy I almost slept with knows my secret.
And he might tell someone.
Chapter Twenty Seven
"Gavin!"
I watch Sam disappear into the crowd downstairs as I sit at the top of the staircase. I run my fingers over the wooden railing and sigh. I don't feel like partying right now, even in this little black dress. I don't know why I even let myself leave the house with how nauseous I have been. I am craving the feeling of normalcy. I would even switch bodies with Mikki if it meant having just one night in London where I didn't have to worry about puking on my date.
My stomach feels calm watching everyone else have fun from a distance. I never noticed how much people change when they have a few drinks in them. I am usually one of those people. After a shot of tequila, I felt like I can take on the world. I also forget how Mom and Dad bicker all the time. Of course, I would usually wake up the next morning to their loud voices yelling at each other in the next room. It only added to my headache.
I watch a couple laugh and put their arms around one another. The girl is wearing a lacy, tan dress that is one size too small. Her boobs barely fit in it. She nearly spills her drink as she follows her man upstairs. I move off to the side as they pass me. They don't even notice me sitting here.
I see a couple headed for the front door, and I realize that it is Dane and Mikki. They must be fed up with this party too. They are holding hands and scouting around the foyer. Mikki peeks into the living room, and then her gaze wanders up the stairs. She waves when she sees me. Dane tilts his head towards the door, and I shrug. I didn't want to leave feeling like an absolute failure, but I am going to have to.
Mikki whispers something into Dane's ear. She pats his shoulder and begins walking up the steps to join me. I can't even hear the echo of her heels on the floor because of all the noise. She keeps a smile on her face and casually sits next to me pulling down the hem of her dress so that it covers a greater area of her thighs. She shifts uncomfortably.
"When was the last time you wore a dress like that?" I ask. "Or heels even?"
"Almost never."
"Alana would give me her death glare if she saw me acting like that at a party like this," I comment.
"Acting like what?"
I glance at her whole ensemble.
"Uncomfortable. Shy. Insecure."
For a moment she looks down at her shoes with her shoulders slumped. Then she nods, accepting my feedback and sits up straight again like what I said wasn't the least bit offensive. She clasps her hands together and rests them in her lap. Dane puts his hands in his pockets and waits patiently near the front door.
"We're going to take off," she says. "Do you want to come?" Mikki tucks a strand of her caramel hair behind her ear. "We are going to try and find some ice cream or gelato or whatever it is they eat here."
"So you thought you would ask the pregnant girl to come along?" I joke. I cover my hand with my mouth, realizing that I let my secret slip out. I wait for her to say I knew it or I told you so.
"Myra is making out with some guy in the sunroom." Mikki ignores my admission. "She kept calling him a footballer?"
"Skank." I laugh. "She will be M.I.A. for the evening."
"Exactly," she adds.
"But then again, you probably don't have friends like that."
"I do actually," she replies. "That is why I normally stay home." She straightens her legs and glances down to admire her shoes.
"With Auntie Scarlett?" I finish. I clear my thro
at and let out a soft laugh.
"Ah no," she corrects me. "Auntie Scarlett is hardly ever home. I am by myself a lot."
Her sudden spark of attitude surprises me. I have never heard her speak like that before. Her voice is always soft and sweet, and her demeanor reminds me of a shy little cub hiding behind her mama. Not tonight.
"Oh."
"You know," she goes on. "I of all people kind of know what you are going through."
"You've been pregnant?" My eyes go wide. "I thought you were a virgin before you . . . you know. Met my brother."
"No." Mikki sighs, reverting to a shy, vulnerable stare. "I know what it's like to feel abandoned."
I swallow the lump in my throat, holding back tears that won't go away. I take the next minute to lift my chin high and lie to myself, so I will keep it together. Maybe if I tell myself I am not really pregnant, eventually, it will be true?
"I don't know what you mean," I casually respond.
"Paige, I know about the baby. Dane found your pregnancy test at the beach house."
I keep a straight face.
"It could have been anybody's test," I say.
"It was obviously yours." She raises her eyebrows. The attitude is back. "And you can believe it or not, but Dane and I are happy for you."
"My brother really said that?" I haven't been congratulated once. Alana acted like I was handed a prison sentence when she found out about the baby, and Sam thinks my life is over. A tear escapes, but I discreetly wipe it away.
"He's not all bad," she jokes.
The reality of what is happening to me weighs on my shoulders.
"And what if I am a horrible mom?"
Mikki gently puts her hand on my arm.
"Paige, I barely know mine. But a part of me loves her."
I think about my mother, and how many times she has made me feel like a speck of dust. I wish she were different, but I still find myself constantly seeking for her approval. A second glance. A sincere I'm proud of you. It hurts to love someone like that.
"I have no idea what I'm doing, Mikki." I rub my forehead. "This wasn't supposed to happen. Gavin and I were only-"
"Whoa," she interrupts. "Stephen isn't the father?"
Ugh.
"Ew no," I respond. "Stephen and I have been over for a while."
Mikki opens her mouth to ask me another question, but she is interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. The sudden crash startles me so much that my heart leaps, and a surge of adrenaline pulses through my veins. Mikki and I jump to our feet as a crowd of people downstairs begin yelling. Some are screaming. Some are cheering.
Dane runs to meet us at the bottom of the staircase with a stern look on his face. The same one Dad makes when there is a security breach. A crowd gathers in the dining room. I can barely see anything beyond the tight crowd of huddled onlookers. The dining room curtains flutter in the night breeze.
"It's just a stupid fight gone way out of hand," Dane mutters. "Let's get out of here." He grabs Mikki's hand and pulls her outside. I follow, looking one last time into the dining room. I catch a glimpse of the fighters. One is crouching near the dining room window. He has a cut on his forehead, and he's clutching his stomach like the wind has been knocked out of him. The other guy is taller than him. His jacket is ripped, exposing a black tattoo on part of his neck.
"Paige!" Dane shouts from outside. He is standing on the sidewalk with Mikki. "Come on."
"Sam?" I reply.
The guy near the dining room window stumbles over after attempting another swing at his opponent. My chest tightens, and my head starts to spin when I get a better look at the two of them. I feel like I might pass out.
"Gavin!" I shout.
Gavin breaks his glare with Sam long enough to turn his head and look me right in the eyes. He doesn't look surprised to see me. He doesn't smile at me, but he doesn't scowl. Instead, his gaze is steady and reassuring. With one simple nod, I feel like I know everything that is going on in his head.
He is here for me.
GAVIN
Chapter Twenty Eight
"How do you know about her?"
I have made my way around this party three times. I pour myself another drink and head for the front door. When I spot someone from back home, I freeze in place. I see Dane, and he's holding hands with that Mikki girl that Matt Haskell had me follow once, and even chat up at a party to gather information.
I slowly set my drink down on the kitchen counter and leave the room behind a crowd of girls heading for the bathroom. I wonder if Matt knows that his son is in London too. He must be staying with his aunt.
A guy exits the bathroom and almost runs into me. He stops himself and looks up. His dark hair and dark eyes almost match the color of his button down shirt. He chuckles when he eyes the tear in my jeans. The smirk on his face makes me want to punch him in the teeth. I clench my fists and remind myself that I have to blend in.
The guy walks in front of me, and he stops to slap his friend on the shoulder. Another group of partyers moves in between us, and I am forced to turn around and find another way back to the front door without being seen by Dane and Mikki.
The guy has an annoying laugh. He mentions something about some girl upstairs being knocked up. He isn't talking loud, but if I concentrate, I can hear what he is saying. I roll my eyes as he describes in detail how he almost sealed the deal with this girl upstairs. He busts out laughing when his friend suggests that he got out of that quickie just in time.
I head back towards the kitchen. Mikki and Dane are gone. I eye an ice bucket full of beer and discreetly grab one for the road. I stop dead when I see Dane standing with his arms folded by my way out. He almost looks like he's on guard duty. The look in his eyes reminds me of Matt, his father.
He glances at the second story railing for a brief second. My eyes dart up the staircase. Mikki is sitting next to a girl who looks like she might burst into tears. My chest feels tight, and my heart pounds when I see the blonde hair, the tan complexion, and the long, slim legs. It's Paige.
I force myself to breathe normally. My brain soars into overdrive as I replay the conversation I had just heard in my head. That idiot who almost ran into me was laughing at the expense of this pregnant, almost quickie, American bird.
Paige is the girl upstairs.
If Dane is here visiting his Aunt, then it only makes sense that Paige is here too. My mind plays flashbacks of Paige and me together, from the moment we first locked eyes, to our wild first kiss, to me finding the box of pregnancy tests under her bed.
I never thought that in the end, Paige would be the one for me. We are both stubborn. We both do our own thing, and we both have the habit or hurting the ones we love. We both know how it feels to be let down, and we both know how freeing it feels to break the rules.
But does she even want anything to do with me?
I walk back towards the guy with the dark hair and dark eyes. The one who was upstairs with Paige. A feeling of anger boils within me as I do. It pulses throughout my core and spreads to every extremity. I clench my fists and tighten my jaw. I am going to knock this loser out for what he did to Paige. For embarrassing her upstairs, and making fun of her with his buddies afterward.
I see the smirk on his face, and it gives me satisfaction to know that he will be on the ground crying in a few minutes. I politely tap him on the shoulder. The opening arguments are the best part of a fight. This guy will start off acting cocky. I will wait for him to throw the first punch with some strategic encouragement. Pushing. Shoving. Name-calling.
When he gives in and gets angry, I will see what kind of a fighter he really is. If he is experienced, he will be patient at first. If he is all talk, he will go straight for my face. Since I'm taller than him, he will most likely end up punching my neck.
"What can I do for you, mate?" The guy looks me up and down.
"You can kindly go back upstairs and apologize to Paige for laughing about her behind her back," I casually respon
d. He raises his eyebrows when I say her name.
"Uh." He looks at his friend. "How do you know about her? Were you listening in on our conversation?" He chuckles. "Now that's a bit weird, wouldn't you say?"
"No." I keep a straight face. I glare at him until he starts to look annoyed with me.
"Mind your own business." He looks down at the rip in my jeans. "And stop trying to fit in where you obviously don't."
"So, are you saying that you are not going to apologize?"
"Get lost," he mumbles. He nudges his friend, and the two of them start to laugh. I nod and take a deep breath before shoving him towards the wall. I hit him hard enough to startle him but not strong enough to knock him over. He staggers but quickly catches his balance. His eyes go wide, and he takes the bait. He shoves me back. He lets out a grunt when he does it, suggesting that he just shoved me with almost full force.
I fall back and smile, standing up immediately. The guy steps forward to shove me again, but I do a quick side step and lightly smack his cheek. A few onlookers laugh. We have an audience now. This guy is going to throw a punch next.
With fists clenched he goes for it, aiming for my face but making contact with my forearm instead. He throws another punch, and I block it again. Predictable. His cheeks turn red and his expression changes. He gets a wild look in his eyes, one that reminds me of a lion stalking its prey. Pure anger.
He lunges at me, knocking me to the floor. I throw him off me, and he hits his head on the side of a decorative table in the hallway. The cut begins to bleed. He wipes it and stares at me as I smirk and walk back towards the kitchen and into the dining room.
The crowd follows us and begins cheering for more. The guy tries his same trick. I let him think it worked the first time so he would do it again. I step out of the way when he lunges at me and grabs the back of his shirt. I push him as far from me as I can.