Thrive

by Krista Ritchie

  It both scares me and propels me to my sister’s side of things. Her yellow-green eyes are very convincing. Plus, even though she has a flair for the dramatics, this seems serious.

  Rose drops her hand, trusting me to stay quiet, and then she cracks the door and sticks her head out. “Two words, Loren: Female menstruation.” She slams the door right in his face.

  “Great,” he calls back with irritation. “I’d say talk to me again when you’re done PMSing, but you’re always a bitch.” I wince at that comeback. He’s been a lot meaner since he relapsed, but that also comes with an even bigger portion of guilt. I imagine his face twisting with it, and it hurts my stomach even more.

  His footsteps sound on the floorboards, drifting off.

  “Female menstruation?” I ask with the rise of my brows. “What’s this about, Rose?”

  She passes me with fire in her eyes and crouches to the cabinets beneath the sink. Her silence makes me nervous.

  I almost bite my fingernails, but I drop my hand quickly. “Should I go get Daisy?” I ask. “If this is like a sister thing, we should include her, right?” I feel badly leaving her alone with the guys, especially since we’re all together to celebrate her trip to Paris. In a few days she’ll be off to Fashion Week, her first time attending without our mom. It’s a big deal for her, and Rose likes any reason to throw a party, even if only close friends attend.

  Rose rises to her feet, brandishing a box of tampons.

  I squint. “So this is about your period?” I feel like there’s a mystery here. One that I am not programmed to solve.

  “No,” she says like I’m an idiot. I don’t see how I could be the stupid one. She pops open the flaps and takes out a familiar looking stick.

  My rushed thought spills out of my mouth. “Who mixed up a pregnancy test with tampons?”

  Rose purses her lips. “I put the test in here,” she says flatly.

  Oh.

  Ohhhhhh. My eyes widen in alarm, never believing or registering that this could actually happen: Rose pinching a pregnancy test between two fingers. “You’re not…”

  “I’m late.”

  Oh my God. This is really happening.

  I just don’t understand why she’s keeping it so secret. Sure, I’ve had to sneak around pregnancy tests more than I’d like to admit aloud or even to myself. Rash-like welts start springing up if I go back that far to my past. But this is coming from Rose—my sister who used to buy tampons for me because I blushed too hard at the checkout counter.

  “Why the incognito pregnancy test?” I ask with the tilt of my head.

  She points a manicured nail at the toilet. “Sit.”

  What? “Um, Rose,” I say hesitantly. “You’re supposed to sit on the toilet, not the sister of the person who may be pregnant. That’s how pregnancy tests work…”

  She glares like she’s trying to shrivel me. Like I’m Loren Hale—her one true nemesis.

  “Team Rose.” I point to my chest. In the mirror, I catch my bony arms and flushed skin, looking very much sunburnt by now.

  “I need you to take the test first,” she says, pushing the stick into my hands.

  Now I go pale, blood rushing out of me. “Why?”

  “I need a baseline,” she says. “To know that they work before I try.”

  That sounds…ridiculous, but Rose has begun to pace, worrying me a little. Her eyes dart around the room like she’s thinking way too hard about the future. It’s not a secret that Rose dislikes children, babies even more.

  “I thought you and Connor talked about children,” I say softly, tiptoeing very carefully on the topic.

  “Thirty-five,” she says. “We agreed to have kids at thirty-five. This isn’t part of the plan.”

  She’s only twenty-five.

  “You know,” I say, “lots of women have babies at your age.” I try my best at being supportive, but she shoots me another withering glare.

  “Piss on the stick.” Each word sounds like a threat.

  I take a deep breath. She’s done far more for me. I can definitely do this for her. “But you can’t tell Lo that I took a pregnancy test—even one in camaraderie. He’ll freak out.”

  “It won’t ever come up,” she promises.

  I approach the toilet, roll down my leggings and sit on the cold seat. I concentrate on the task, really careful not to pee on my fingers (that’s the trickiest part). When I finish, I pull up my leggings, set the stick on the counter and wash my hands, waiting for my results.

  “You next,” I say with a smile, like see it’s not so scary, Rose.

  She inhales sharply. “I’ll wait until we read yours.”

  “It’ll be better if you just get it over with.” She’s going to wear down her five-inch heels to three-inches if she doesn’t stop pacing. I delicately hand her the tampon box, showing her that it’s not so bad after all. “It’s probably negative anyway. You’re on birth control, right?”

  “I haven’t missed a single day, so you know what this means?”

  “That there is no way you could be pregnant.” I exhale for her and smile. She’s being dramatic for nothing.

  “That I’m unlucky. Very, very unlucky, Lily. Birth control is 99% effective, so Connor’s superhuman sperm somehow penetrated my body’s defenses. He won. His sperm reached my egg and now I’m going to have this thing growing inside of me for nine whole months while he gets to parade around the fact that he impregnated an impregnable woman.” She exhales after that rant.

  My eyes are saucers and I pat her iron-like shoulder for support. I try not to think about Connor’s sperm or his sperm wearing a superhero cape. “If you have a baby, just think of all the cute clothes you can dress her or him up in.” It’s the only pro that I can think of.

  “A baby isn’t a doll,” she refutes in a chilly tone. She struts forward, forcing my hand to fall. I doubt it was that comforting anyway. She reluctantly pulls out the pregnancy test from the tampon box.

  “Okay,” I say, regrouping. “Then give me a reason why you don’t like children that has nothing to do with tantrums and dirty diapers.”

  She pulls her black panties down from her dress and stares at the stick before taking the test. “Besides the fact that they’ll freakishly look like a hybrid of Connor and me,” she says, “children are reflections of their parents. Anything they say or do is going to be seen as a product of my parenting choices.” She shakes her head and this foreign fear darkens her face. “It’s not like fucking up a math test, Lily.”

  She rolls her eyes, her guards rising again. And then she pees on the stick. “What does yours say?” she asks.

  “Negative,” I declare before I even pick it up. She flushes the toilet, and I grab my stick. “Two lines that’s…” I snatch the directions, my heart catapulting to my throat. No…

  After scrubbing her hands with soap and rinsing, Rose steps forward and leers over my shoulder to read the test. “Lily.” Her brows rise in accusation.

  “It’s broken!” I point at the stick like it has betrayed me. I toss it into the sink. There’s absolutely no way I’m pregnant. Right. Right?

  Rose grips my shoulders, spinning me towards her. “Stay calm,” she says in her unsympathetic voice.

  I breathe out a long breath. Like I’m in a maternity class. Oh my God. I’m already doing pregnant things. I touch my cheeks that roast. “Am I burning up? I think I have seven-degree burns.”

  “No such thing,” she says.

  “What does yours say?” I ask, about to look over at the counter.

  She clutches my shoulders harder. “Concentrate. One issue at a time.”

  Okay. But I can’t help but notice her change in demeanor. My morose, panicked sister has put on her problem-solving attitude with a little too much excitement. She’s avoiding her issues by focusing on mine.

  “Has Lo been using protection?”

  “No,” I say. “Has Connor?”

  Her glare ices over. “I’m on birth control. We’ve di
scussed this already.”

  Oh yeah. Okay.

  “Breathe,” she tells me.

  I blow out a breath. I may be pregnant. “Oh my God.”

  “How late are you?” she asks, still quizzing me. My brain is trying to cross five different pathways at the same time.

  “Um…” I blink repeatedly. “Oh um.” I shake my head to collect my thoughts. “I skip my period with birth control.” I don’t know how late I am. I’m not Rose. I bet she has alerts in her cellphone for her next cycle.

  “And you took all of your birth control? Every day? You didn’t miss once?”

  “I’m good about it,” I say. “I always have…” I cringe. Shit. My head hurts as I wrack my brain for answers. When Lo relapsed and when the molestation rumors ignited instead of fizzling out, everything became really confusing and stressful. I must have been distracted and forgot.

  The realization knocks me back a couple steps, but Rose holds onto my shoulders still, so I just sway a little like I’ve had too many morning mimosas. This can’t be right. “It’s wrong.” I can’t believe in this outcome.

  If I’m pregnant…Lo will be devastated. He has expressed that he doesn’t want children, not when alcoholism is hereditary. And we’re not in a good place to have a baby. I don’t know if we ever will be.

  “It has to be wrong,” I say again, this time meeting my fierce sister’s narrowed gaze.

  I wait for her to say: it probably is. Or: there’s no way you’re pregnant. But maybe it seems unrealistic. I’m a sex addict. I should’ve had an accident a long time ago, right? “We have anal sex,” I blurt out, even raising my hand like it solves everything.

  “So?”

  “So we have lots and lots of anal sex, and the sperm can’t go to the right place in that position.” I am shrinking into myself, dodging the word “vagina” and “eggs” in one swoop.

  “All it takes is one time vaginally,” she says. “And what are you doing having lots and lots of anal sex? You shouldn’t be having lots and lots of any sex. I thought you two were being more careful.”

  We weren’t.

  We haven’t been careful since we ditched my therapist’s blacklist. Nooners. Public sex. It has become our new routine. One that has filled us both with a sense of joy and normalcy.

  “There’s something that I have to tell you. Please do not scream.” I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear. “A little before my twenty-first birthday, Lo and I weren’t doing so well. We had a major fight about sex…” I swallow a pebble in my throat. “I felt guilty for keeping him from it, and he was always restraining himself around me.” I pause to gauge her reaction.

  Anger has already shaded her face into something kind of demonic, her cheeks concaved and her arms crossed.

  Shit. I just keep going. “You see, I didn’t want the guy I’m with to be scared of me. And that’s what it was starting to feel like. So…”

  “You’ve been having lots and lots of sex,” she finishes for me, her words crystalizing.

  “Yeah, and we ditched my therapist’s suggested rules.”

  Her mouth falls. “You did not.”

  “They were suggestions,” I emphasize this part.

  “Did you tell Dr. Banning? Did you let her in on what you’ve been doing or have you and Loren kept this from everyone?” Well Daisy knows…but I don’t throw my youngest sister under the bus. Her loyalty must be rewarded.

  “It’s our sex life,” I say softly. “We thought we had it under control.”

  “Now you’re pregnant,” she snaps. “How is that under control?”

  Tears start to brim, and I wipe them quickly. “The test could be wrong…”

  When she sees my tears, she rolls her eyes but stops attacking with every weapon in her arsenal. “How much is a lot?” she asks, planting her hands on her hips.

  “I don’t know…” I blink, trying to recall the amount. “Maybe two times, three, sometimes four.”

  “Every day?” The word is laced with acid.

  My answer won’t bring kind sentiments and good cheer, so my lips stay closed. I just nod.

  “For two years, Lily?” She looks like she’s going to cry. Maybe because I never trusted her with this information.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It was working…” Until now. I can’t touch my abdomen. Is there really something in there?

  “I’m surprised you haven’t been pregnant ten times already.”

  “The test could be wrong,” I exclaim, sticking to this one bit of hope. How can I tell Lo? It will send him off a cliff that I’ve been trying to draw him away from for months.

  “I’ll schedule an appointment for you so we’ll know for sure,” she says.

  I nod, and my gaze drifts to the counter where her test lies. She is fixed to the floor, too scared to confront her own fate. So I do it for her, approaching the pregnancy stick.

  Two lines.

  Just like mine.

  I shake my head, a weight lifting off my chest at a single thought. “These tests have to be broken, Rose. What’s the probability that we both got pregnant at the same time?” It’s all wrong. We’re okay.

  “Not impossible, obviously,” she says, her body rigid like a board. “I’ll schedule an appointment for me too.”

  I blow out another breath, this time it quakes my chin. “I can’t tell Lo,” I realize. Even if it’s true, I don’t know if I can tell him right away either. It’ll crush him so much. I don’t want to cause him any pain.

  “I know,” she says. “I’m not telling Connor.”

  My mouth falls. “Why?” He wants children. They’ve been married for a little over a year, and they’ve withstood a lot together, with no signs of parting. They channel power from the universe that only nerd stars can access. I’m sure of it.

  The galaxy is on their side.

  “He’ll be happy.” She says the word like it’s disgusting. “And I want to process the awfulness of this situation for as long as possible without him gloating and grinning.” She raises her chin like a declaration. “If he’s truly as smart as he claims to be, he’ll figure it out on his own.”

  I wonder if she really just wants to pretend like it’s not happening for a while. It’s weird, but Connor will probably like the challenge. Then again, maybe it isn’t so weird. He’s Connor Cobalt.

  She appraises my mental state for a second, returning her worries back to me. “We’ll help each other,” she says. “And we won’t tell anyone else until you’re ready to tell Lo.”

  “If I’m pregnant,” I say, but the waterworks have already begun again. Rose is usually right. She’s the smart one, so the fact that she’s not even considering an inaccuracy in the test—it makes it more real than I want it to be.

  She rips off a piece of toilet paper and hands it to me.

  I dry my eyes, realizing that if we’re going to have any chance at hiding this, I can’t leave the bathroom distressed and upset. I sniff.

  “I’m here for you,” she says in that icy, Rose Calloway voice. Strangely, it’s become more than comforting. “We won’t let each other down.”

  I nod. In the end, I have to do what’s best for Lo. Even if it hurts.

  { 50 }

  2 years : 01 month

  September

  LOREN HALE

  “Where’s Daisy?” Rose asks, strutting into the kitchen with Lily after they spent probably fifteen minutes together in the bathroom. Connor is right. I shouldn’t question these things. It’s Rose. She could’ve been asking Lily about sex, just overly concerned.

  Connor dumps bacon into a bowl. Breakfast for dinner, Daisy’s choice for her going away party. “The garage,” he says. “Ryke went to check on her.”

  I watch Lily approach me. Her gaze rakes me in a slow once-over, landing on my crotch. I don’t even think she realizes that she’s doing it. Which actually makes me smile. She stops a foot from me, hesitating.

  Screw that. I hook my fingers in the band of her leggings and pu
ll her to my chest. She knocks straight into me, a gasp escaping her lips, and she sets her palms flat on my abs. I kiss her nose, and she blushes. “Lo,” she whispers, her heart beating quickly against me. Mine matches her speed, and I kiss her cheek. She breathes deeply, need flickering in her eyes but also something else…

  She looks away from me, focusing on Connor and Rose who have a good five feet between them.

  Rose has her arms crossed. “I hate your smile.”

  “You love my smile. That’s why it annoys you, darling.”

  “Your backwards logic wouldn’t make it past the first round of the Quiz Bowl Tournament.”

  He takes a step closer to her. “My logic is what won my team the Quiz Bowl Tournament. Four years. In a row.”

  She glares. “I hope your cat scratches your face tonight,” she deadpans. Rose even mimics the claws with her hand.

  He grins like she gave him the best compliment.

  My eyes fall back to Lily. “Lil?”

  “Did you talk to Ryke about dating?” she asks, dodging my teasing like I’m not even kissing her. Usually she’d at least smile back.

  “Yeah…he says that he’s not with your sister.” We’ve all speculated that something’s going on between him and Daisy ever since she moved into his apartment complex. He hasn’t dated one single girl since then. He even rejects girls when they try to flirt or offer their number. It’s weird.

  “Maybe he has a secret girlfriend that’s not Daisy,” Lily offers a theory. He’s with Daisy almost every day. Connor doesn’t even think that’s possible.

  “I don’t know…”

  Lily anxiously rubs her arm, and her leg rises towards my hip, more out of impulse, a bad one. I can tell the difference by now.

  “You okay, Lil?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she breathes. She drops her leg, catching herself.

  “You’d tell me if I was pushing you too far?”

  She nods quickly. “I’m okay, really. A little…” She leans close and whispers, “aroused.” Then she blushes again, but she ends up smiling nervously.

  My lips rise. “I had no idea,” I say. “We’ll have to do something about that later.” I kiss the corner of her lips, and her body curves into mine. My hand lowers to her back, sliding underneath the band of her—