“Are you two still together?” Amber asks. “I didn’t realize.”
I shake my head, swallowing the bitter taste in the back of my throat. It’s time for me to set the record straight. That I want to share the truth is a huge step, one I’m not going to second guess. “We had plans that night to lose our virginity.”
“Prom, right?” Amber says. “Same night you guys got in the accident.”
Again, I nod. “What you don’t know is that we’d both been drinking, I was the one driving, and he never…h-he never fully woke up.”
For a long moment there’s not a sound in the room except my labored breaths. Then Amber murmurs, “Oh, Kendall.” She takes my arm and guides me to the bed.
My legs give out and I drop down. She sits beside me.
“Hold up.”
I wince at Dixie’s words and impatient tone. She stands in front of me and crosses her arms. “You’ve been blaming yourself for what happened to Mason this whole time?”
I blink away tears so I can pull her into focus. “I was the one driving his truck.”
“You were both drinking that night, right? Why did you get behind the wheel of his vehicle?”
“He…” I sniff and wipe my nose as memories play through my mind. “He said he’d had more to drink than me.”
“So you both made the choice to roll the dice. You both took the gamble. End of story.”
“It’s not that simple,” I answer automatically.
“I didn’t say it was simple. But it’s the truth,” Dixie retorts. “He got into the car, knowing the risks, and he owns that choice. It’s not all on you. Neither of you should have driven anywhere, but the fact that you were behind the wheel doesn’t make you the only one who made a crappy decision. I never met Mason, but if he loved you half as much as you apparently loved him, he wouldn’t lay all the blame at your feet. He wouldn’t want you to stay tied to him like this and deny yourself a personal life as some useless penance.”
I’m too stunned to respond. Dixie doesn’t usually give a flying fuck about my feelings. She wouldn’t waste a single breath on absolution. Not for me. But she’s a big believer in owning your own shit, and she’s the first person to call me out for taking on Mason’s. Would he blame me? I like to think he wouldn’t, but if he could see himself now? I don’t know.
“You made a mistake.” Amber says. “You drank too much, and you made a mistake. And yes, sometimes mistakes affect other people even when you meant no harm. But Kendall, everyone makes mistakes.”
I sniff again and wipe my cheeks. “Not like mine.”
“No,” she quietly agrees. “Not like yours, but…” A long inhale tells me she’s working up to something. “I know what it’s like to make a reckless decision that ends up having long-term consequences you never intended.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Nevermi—”
“Amber,” I plead. “If you really don’t want to keep going, I understand, believe me, I understand, but I’d like to know what you were going to say.”
She blows out a breath then speaks to the floor. “I spent my whole college career focused on my studies. I had my eye on graduate school, and I refused to get distracted. While other people went to parties, I went to the library. All the effort paid off, because by the time I started my last semester I’d already been accepted to grad school. I had my housing, financial aid, and scholarships lined up. After my last final I decided to celebrate. I went out, drank way too much, and hooked up with some guy I’d never met.”
“I call that a typical Friday night,” Dixie quips.
“Yeah, except the condom fairy didn’t visit me that night and now…” She reaches into her purse, digs into the drugstore bag, and tosses a pill bottle onto my comforter.
I read the label upside down. Vitamins. P-r-e-n-a-t-a-l vitamins. What the what?
“Holy shit.” Dixie takes a step back, her focus dropping to Amber’s stomach. “You’re pregnant?”
My gaze zooms there, too, while my thoughts scatter like leaves in a windstorm. Finally, I catch one. “Did you tell the father?”
“I don’t know who he is. We didn’t exchange names.” She covers her face with her hands. “I have a vague memory of long, dark hair and a goatee, but that might be Captain Morgan. I went to the bar with my roommate. She says we parted ways around midnight, and I stumbled into our apartment around two. Were it not for the Uber charge I wouldn’t even know how I got home.”
“Are you going to—” Dixie breaks off, and then starts again. “It’s totally your decision, and I make no judgments, but are you going to keep—”
“I’m having the baby,” she whispers. “What happens from there, I haven’t decided yet, but I have some time to weigh those options.” She drops her hands, and I can see the resolve in the set of her chin. “That’s why I can’t go home. My mom and stepdad wouldn’t understand. Being pregnant outside of marriage goes against their beliefs. I’m an adult and this is my call, but”—she lifts a shoulder and lets it fall—“I shouldn’t live under their roof if I’m not prepared to abide by their rules.”