CELEB CRUSH

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CELEB CRUSH Page 34

by Christie, Nicole


  I let her have a minute for my threat sink in. Amber Lynn’s wide mouth trembles wildly before she compresses it in a tight line. She looks down at the file for a few seconds, then back at me with her Bambi eyes.

  "Why do you care?" she, finally asks. "Jessica told me y’all broke up. What do you get out of this?"

  My answer is simple. "If you knew your son at all, you wouldn't have to ask me that."

  I pluck the folder from her slack hands and walk away.

  Chapter 36

  Sometimes I am just so angry, I could combust. Mostly, though, I’m hollow. How can emptiness be so painful? If I had known how much it would hurt to care, I would have walked away from him that first night we met—and I never would have looked back. Call me a coward, but nothing is worth this wretched ache. God, nothing. My lungs ache like I need him breathe. And every morning I wake up, the pain of it hits me like a drowning tidal wave. Dramatic, yes—but just ‘cause it’s dramatic doesn’t make it not true.

  I’m at Grandma and Grandpa Chinn’s house in Oldtown, Utah. It’s the last place anyone would think to look for me. I just showed up at the door of their double wide—and because it’s been years since they last saw me, they thought I was a solicitor. They do not like solicitors.

  My grandparents had my mom later in life, so they’re quite a bit older than you’d think. They don’t talk much, but then neither do I. We get along okay. Grandma likes to brush and braid my hair every night. It’s very painful, but I take it like a man. We look through photo album after photo album, all featuring my mom in hideous dresses. I strangely feel no connection to the girl in the pictures, but Grandma sighs and cries over them as she gives a little background on each page.

  Grandpa doesn’t talk at all, but he whistles a lot. He’s got this stainless steel cane that he occasionally swats at me with. I’ve decided this is how he shows affection. I think it’s kind of cool that we share the same nose.

  It’s incredibly difficult trying not to think of him, and wonder what he’s up to. It’s pure hell knowing that all I have to do is go on the internet, turn on the television, or flip open the latest gossip mag to find out. I constantly check my new phone for messages from him—which is stupid since I know he doesn’t have this number. Even if he did, would he call? I obsessively wonder about this.

  Is he as destroyed as I am? It kills me to think he’s somewhere out there, going about his glamorous movie star life completely unaffected, and maybe happier than ever. He can’t hurt as bad as I do. He’s out there shooting his movie, smiling for the public. And here I lie—on a surprisingly comfortable army cot from the thrift store, broken and bleeding—where another day seems too big to face on my own.

  You think I don’t know I’m pathetic? Like I’m some Victorian-era maiden slowly wasting away because she lost her man. I know, and I don’t care. Being with Luke was like the best kind of dream. Losing him is like waking up to a colorless reality. I wish I had never known how good it could be. If I had never known, then I wouldn’t have to feel the absence of it every second of every day.

  Whoever said that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all is a damn liar.

  I wait until the party’s almost over before I make an appearance. Talon is excited over the shitload of camping gear I got for him, but can’t stop talking about the top-of-the-line electric drifter go-karts—two of them—that Luke sent him. He harasses me with questions about his hero and when can we go camping again, until I’m forced to run away. Fortunately, he’s too enthralled with his new German Shepherd puppy to give chase.

  I paste a smile on my face and go through the motions of niceties with everyone, but what I really want to do is talk to Megan. Bran won’t leave her side for even a second, though. Finally, I snatch the cap off his head and throw it out the door so he has to go after it. I guess I could have just asked him to give us some privacy. Oh, well.

  Megan takes me up to what’s going to be the nursery—also known as my old room. There’s new beige carpet, and the walls have been painted a garish pink. The beautiful crib that Bran made is against one wall, a vibrantly colored flowered quilt draped over the rail. There’s not much else: an overstuffed armchair next to the crib and a cream-cushioned glider and ottoman in one corner. I’m surprised as I would have thought Megan would have it fully furnished by now. I glance out the window at the backyard. Aunt Susan’s garden is a riot of color, having been restored to its former glory. A shock of grief flashes through me, and I quickly turn away.

  Megan looks really good with what even I have to admit is an adorable little baby bump. Her hair and skin glow with health, but the sparkle in her hazel eyes is gone, and she seems a lot more…self-contained.

  I watch her carefully lower herself into the glider chair while I lean against the wall. “How are you?” I ask cautiously.

  “Good. I’m good,” Megan replies softly. She tucks a loose lock of hair behind one ear and laughs a little as she glances around. “I still think of this as your room. Every time I come in here, I keep expecting to trip over your umbrellas.”

  Oh, yes. Who could forget about my umbrella collecting phase? I nod awkwardly, staring down at my shoes. “Yeah. Um…I like the quilt. Where’d you get it from?”

  “Mom made it,” Megan tries to say casually, but the catch in her voice gives her away. She takes a few seconds to pull herself together before managing a watery smile.

  “I miss her so much. Sometimes it seems like she’s been gone forever, and other times…it’s like a horrible nightmare. A lot of times I forget, and I think, like, ‘oh, I can’t wait to tell her how much the baby moved today.’ Or I’ll be at the store, and I’ll be wondering what I should get her for Christmas. Then it hits me—she’s not here, and she never will be.”

  Oh, damn it. I can’t do this right now. A long silence falls as I try to think of something comforting to say.

  “She’s still here,” I blurt out. I gesture vaguely. “You know—in the air, and stuff. Like, the dust motes that sparkle in the sunlight. That’s her.” What?

  Megan looks thoroughly confused, but then relents with a smile. “I get what you mean. And, you know—I know I’m lucky because I got a chance to prepare and to cherish my time with her. I got to say goodbye, and I’m so grateful for that.” She blows out a breath and looks up at me. “You never got that chance with your parents. To lose them the way you did was so…awful. I don’t know if I ever told you how sorry I am that you had to go through that.”

  “Well…” I shift my weight uncomfortably, pressing my back into the wall. “That was a long time ago. I’ve made my peace with it.”

  Megan nods, absently running her fingers over the cushioned arms of the glider. She decides to change the subject. “So…have you talked to Lucas yet?”

  My face turns to stone. “No.”

  “Sorry. I guess you—”

  “Megan,” I interrupt her on a flustered breath. “I think I might be pregnant.”

  I’ve shocked her into silence. She gapes at me, leaning forward so abruptly that the glider rocks violently forward, almost propelling her onto the floor.

  “You—what?! Oh, my god, Andi! Are you serious? Did you take a test?”

  I cringe back at her explosive excitement. “Um. No.”

  “How late are you?” she asks expectantly.

  “Well…”

  “You haven’t been keeping track? Well, when did you have unprotected sex?”

  “Um.” I stare down at my shoes. “You know I don’t have regular periods. As for the other thing…we weren’t always as careful as we should have been.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Megan sounds incredulous. “Were you trying to get pregnant?”

  “No!” I meet her eyes, shocked. “No, I was just—we both…you know…the heat of the moment.” And we had a lot of heat, and a lot of moments. Stupid and irresponsible, I know.

  “Well…you need to take a test,” Megan says practically. She clumsily ge
ts to her feet. “Fortunately, I still have a few of those left in the bathroom. I kind of went crazy peeing on sticks in the beginning. Come on.”

  I follow her into her and Bran’s room, and on into their ensuite bathroom. Megan pokes through the cabinet under the sink until she comes out with a rectangular pink box which she waves in my face.

  “This is digital, and it will flat out tell you if you’re pregnant or not,” she tells me, handing it over. “Just hold the uncapped part in your pee stream for, like, four seconds.”

  I gingerly take the box from her. “Okay.”

  She just stands there waiting, like I’m going to perform a circus trick. We have a mini stare-off, until finally she huffs out a sigh and scurries out of the bathroom.

  I make sure to lock the door behind her before I do my business. Fortunately I always have to pee these days, so that’s half the job done. Trying to get the stick in the pee stream without getting any on you—not so easy. When I’m done, I put the cap back on, and put the test on the empty box. I resist looking at it until I’ve thoroughly washed my hands. And then I just stand there for a couple of minutes, leaning against the counter with my arms crossed. I’m so nervous that I’ve broken out in a cold sweat. I take a deep shuddering breath before I force myself to look down and read the results.

  The little display window clearly states “pregnant.” I patiently wait for the “not” part to show up. When it’s not forthcoming, I pick up the stick and shake it like a Magic Eightball.

  Oh, who am I kidding.

  Holy shit, I’m pregnant.

  I really have no right to be shocked; we were beyond careless. We had never even discussed pregnancy a possibility, which I realize is downright ridiculous considering that thing with Kat—and the sheer amount of times we had sex without protection. Used to skipping periods here and there, I still would have gone on obliviously, not even thinking that sperm met egg in me, if I hadn’t started to realize that my bras were getting way too tight, and that I hadn’t had to buy tampons in…a while. Any other symptoms, I had chalked up to being depressed.

  I keep staring at the test, trying to let that offensive word sink in. There’s a knock at the door, and dazed, I go to answer it. Megan makes note of my stunned expression and grabs the test from me. She lets out a little shriek of excitement.

  “Ohmigod, you’re pregnant! You’re going to have Lucas Greyson’s baby, you lucky—I’m so jealous! Oh, my god! I’m the aunt of Lucas Greyson’s kid! Our kids are going to be months apart! I can’t—”

  “Megan,” I say thinly. “Give me back my pee stick.”

  “Sorry.” This she chooses to whisper.

  She reluctantly hands me back my test, then thoughtfully closes the door behind her so we can talk in belated privacy. I throw my test and the box it came in into the trash. Only when I put my hands over my face do I realize I’m shaking.

  “How do you feel?” Megan’s now quiet voice intrudes on the white noise in my brain. “Do you have any symptoms?”

  “I don’t know. Not really.” I drop my hands and look at her. “I feel like I’m starving for sleep, and sometimes I get queasy for no reason.”

  “I was puking my guts out the first trimester,” Megan shares with me. She looks me over critically. “Your boobs are huge.”

  I automatically cross my arms over my chest. “They burn like they’re on fire.”

  “Tell me about it. So, what are you going to do? When are you going to tell him?”

  “Um…soon, I guess.” My shoulders slump as the enormity of it suddenly hits me. “I have no idea what I’m going to do. I think I’m going to throw up.”

  “Here—sit down.”

  Megan points me to the closed toilet seat. I drop down heavily onto it while she perches on the ledge of the bathtub. She dials down the inappropriate enthusiasm for my predicament and throws me an anxious look.

  “There’s no way he and Kat Vandevere are together,” she blurts out.

  Lightning stabs me in the chest. “Is that what they’re saying?”

  “Yeah, but…it’s definitely just a PR thing. You can totally tell that the pictures of them together are from on set. And…” Megan purses her lips, toys with her delicate wedding band. “So, I know you don’t want to talk about Lucas, or what happened to you guys—but I talked to him. Andi, he sounded so miserable! He’s desperate to find you. He even—”

  “You’re right; I don’t want to talk about him.”

  I hunch forward, clutching my stomach. I can’t tell if I’m going to puke, or burst into tears. Maybe both. Wouldn’t that surprise Megan. My mouth is starting to feel weirdly sweaty.

  “Okay, okay—sorry.” She waves a hand in the air, as if to clear out her previous words. “You need to go to the doctor and find out how far along you are. And you need to start taking prenatal vitamins. Actually, I have some I can give you. My doctor prescribed them to me, but then I found these gummy ones instead so I never opened them.”

  She gets up and roots through the medicine cabinet, pulling out a huge clear bottle of what looks to be horse pills. She hands it to me with a flourish, but then abruptly snatches it back. “Actually, I’ll put it in a bag for you. The last thing you need is to be caught wandering around with them.”

  “Thanks…” I watch numbly as she grabs a plastic Price Pride bag from the cabinet and sticks the bottle in the bag before giving it to me. I accept it like it’s a bomb.

  “So…I have a really good doctor here. If you wanted to move back, there’s plenty of space,” Megan says in a rush. “You could have the den. Dad doesn’t—he won’t be using it.”

  I raise my head to look at her blankly. “You want me to live here…with all of you?”

  “The more the merrier, right?” She lifts her shoulders in a quick shrug. “It could be nice.”

  I try to imagine residing in this house again, with Uncle Charlie and Talon—and Bran and Megan, and their little spawn. And me, and my baby.

  Baby. Oh, god. I’m going to have a baby…and I’m going to be such a shitty mother, I know it!

  I have to talk to Luke to tell him that he’s going to be a father. I have no idea how he’ll react.

  “Thanks for the offer,” I tell Megan. “I, uh, I’ll think about it.”

  “Sure.” Megan hesitates, gives me a shy smile. “Whatever you decide, we’ll all be here for you, okay?”

  I can’t help but be surprised by the sincerity in her expression. “Thanks,” I say again.

  She nods slowly, looking down at her hands again. “Mom wanted us to stick together. She told me that I should look out for you.”

  “She did?” My vision suddenly blurs, and I have to keep my eyes extra wide to stop them from leaking.

  “Yeah.” Megan laughs a little. “She was so mad at me and Bran for hurting you. She didn’t talk to us for, like, a week.”

  A huge grin spreads across my face. “Really?”

  “Oh, yeah. She worried about you, you know? She kept hoping you’d move back home, and we’d be one big happy family again.”

  “Hm. That would be…”

  “A train wreck?” Megan giggles. “Maybe. But it’d be fun. You never know until you try, right?”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

  My smile suddenly fades when I remember that I’ve got a little person growing inside of me. My baby…and Luke’s.

  Oh, my god—it’s going to come out of me eventually. I’ll have to give birth, like those horrifying videos in Health class. Then, before I’ve even recovered from that trauma, they’ll hand me this tiny slimy creature that will cry at me for the rest of my life.

  I don’t think I can do this.

  “It’s really overwhelming, isn’t it?” Megan says sympathetically, noticing my freak out. “It’s okay. Just take it one day at a time. You have a while to get used to the idea, and figure out what you’re going to do.”

  “Yeah.” I exhale heavily. “Yeah…I guess I do.”

  “You’ll g
et through it. As long as you remember one important detail.”

  I give her a questioning look. “What’s that?”

  She takes my hand, squeezes it. “You’re not alone.”

  Chapter 37

  “You’re the Anderson Kelly that dated Lucas Greyson, right?”

  That’s not a question you want to be asked while pregnant and standing on a scale. Fortunately, I anticipated something like this when she called my name and I looked up to see the barely contained excitement in her face.

  I turn a carefully constructed rueful smile on the bright-eyed bushy-haired nurse. “For, like, two minutes. We went out a couple of times a while ago. The press greatly exaggerated our relationship—we’re just friends.”

  “Really? I saw a lot of pictures of the two of you—and they looked pretty steamy to me!”

  She takes note of my weight and gestures for me to step off the scale. The wheels in my head turn as I follow her to an examination room. I know exactly what she’s speculating, and who wouldn’t jump to that conclusion? I sit down in a chair, barely noticing as she takes my vitals.

  “Those pictures were pretty old,” I blurt out after she takes the thermometer out of my mouth. “From months and months ago. I think they slapped a more recent date on them to stir up drama between him and Kat.”

  The nurse—her nametag claims she’s Dory—gawks at me with avid interest. “Is it true that they’re engaged?”

  I feel my smile go brittle around the edges. “It’s possible,” I say through gritted teeth. “They’ve been together for a while now.”

  “Really?” I can see her process this information and store it for later, when she can post it to her social media accounts. She finally glances down at my chart, and then looks back up at me with a smile. “Well, we tested your urine, and you’re definitely pregnant.”

  “Hooray,” I say weakly.

  In between taking my personal history, Nurse Dory peppers me with intimate questions about Luke. I pretend to answer them enthusiastically so she won’t think I have something to hide. I also make sure to bring up my fiancée, “Tulio,” underwater welder-diver and the father of my unborn child. I think I’ve really sold it.

 

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