“I didn’t exactly go to the store myself.” She uncaps a milky lilac pen. “I had help.”
“You had help?” Who?! My heart races. “Fuck, please tell me you didn’t tell Eliot and Tom—”
“No,” she interjects fast. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Sulli. I promise.”
I ease a little. Luna is a kickass secret-keeper, so I remind myself to trust. I fucking trust Luna with all my heart, and I don’t want to stop now.
“She thinks the test is for me. You’re in the clear. And I can ask her to get another one.”
“Who is she?” I finally ask.
“Frog. She’s been cool. She won’t snitch.”
Oh fuck. I plant a hand over my face like I’m watching a train wreck. And I’m the one on the tracks. With Quinn still off-duty, Akara’s been trying to find Luna a new 24/7 bodyguard. In the meantime, Frog has been one of Luna’s temporary bodyguards.
She’s Akara’s cousin. A cousin that he said he never even talked to until a few months ago. She introduced herself to me with a handshake. “I’m Kannika Kitsuwon. But everyone calls me Frog.”
She’s only eighteen. Ten years younger than Kits.
And she’s from New York. Since being born & raised in Philly is a prerequisite to be on the security team, Akara made an exception for Frog at his mom’s request. She’s not even here looking for a permanent bodyguard position.
It’s a long story.
One that Akara hates repeating.
“Frog is also related to Akara,” I say. “You aren’t worried that she’ll tell Kits that you asked for a pregnancy test?”
Luna shrugs. “She said she wouldn’t. She hasn’t given me a reason not to believe her yet, and I figure if she does tell your boyfriend, then we know Frog can’t be trusted anymore.”
That’s smart. I think this over, two fingers to my lips. “Do you think Frog stole the pregnancy test?”
“I gave her money to buy it, but I guess it’s possible.” She sifts through more pens. “What’d Akara say she stole in New York?”
“CDs, I think.” I frown more. “C fucking Ds. What do people even do with them anymore? I thought they were relics.”
“CDs could be portals to other dimensions. Maybe she knows something we don’t.”
I want to say that I could use a bunch of CDs if that’s the case. To escape my problems. But my stomach twists and knots into a stale pretzel. The Sulli who runs away is long gone.
Even the idea of moving backwards makes me recoil inside.
I glance at the inked script on my wrist.
Luna adds, “Tom likes CDs. He thinks they’re vintage cool.”
I snort.
Luna smiles, and for a split-second, I forget the elephant in the room.
I imagine Luna asking Frog for another test. “Won’t she start questioning things? She might start believing you’re actually pregnant, and then she could tell her cousin, who’d find out it’s not you. Then we’re both fucked!” I plop back down, staring at a stain on the ceiling. “It’s too risky.”
Luna lies back beside me.
I turn my head, our eyes meeting.
She says, “You’re probably right. It’s better if you tell Akara and Banks before anyone tells them. And we haven’t known Frog for that long.”
I nod and take a breath.
She sits up to grab the fallen lilac gel pen.
I watch her. “So let’s just say the test is right and I am pregnant.” Let’s roll with that fucking tornado.
Luna grows quieter and stares harder at her gel pens.
I frown. “Luna?” I lift myself on my elbows again.
“I’m a horrible person.”
“What?” I sit up fully now. Considering all that she’s done for me, plus being here as support and audience to my panic and meltdown, I’d say she’s a fucking superstar.
She colors in a planet tattoo on her thigh with the milky lilac pen. The galaxy fine-line tattoo peeks out from the hem of her jean shorts. Already half-colored with different types of marker. The more she draws, the more I see she’s avoiding looking at me.
“Luna,” I breathe. “You’re not a horrible person. I don’t believe that one fucking bit.” Where is this even coming from?
“If you were in my head, you’d know how awful I am,” she whispers softly. “My first thought should have been about supporting you.”
But it wasn’t? “You have been supporting me. You’re here.” My muscles pull taut, and I sit really fucking still. She’s my roommate in Philly. She’s one of the closest friends I currently have.
Guilt reddens her eyes. “I hate what I just thought.”
I swallow a rock. “What were you thinking? And hey, this is a judgment-free fucking zone. You know me, I always put my foot in my mouth.”
“I don’t know why I brought it up.” She’s quiet again, looking tormented.
I nudge her hip. “The truth will set you fucking free.” That’s what her mom always says. I’m clearly doing an abysmal job following this where my boyfriends are concerned, but I don’t point out my hypocrisy.