“I know, crab ass. I was just throwing that out there so you would know.”
“Sorry.” I give her my best puppy-dog look, and she waves me off.
“Let’s keep going. What is placenta previa?”
“It’s when the placenta grows along the lowest part of the uterus, covering all of or part of the cervix.”
“What is the main symptom of placenta previa?”
“Bleeding.”
“What are the most common presenting complaints of vaginitis?”
“Vaginal burning, itching, pain, discharge, and inflammation.”
She nods. “You’re nailing these.”
“Good. Your turn.” I snag the study guide. “What are common symptoms women present with early in pregnancy?”
“Sore breasts.”
She taps her pencil on the table, thinking, and I rub an arm absently over my chest, remembering how tender my breasts were when Lincoln squeezed them the other day.
“Nausea. Unusually emotional or weepy. Fatigue. Bloating, and—”
“Missed period,” I breathe.
“I thought I was answering these.”
“You are. Abby?”
She lifts a brow.
“I think I might be pregnant.”
Her eyes widen. “What was that?”
“I think I might be pregnant.” I look down at my flat stomach. No way. But… “I’ve been tired and emotional and my boobs hurt…” My words trail off as I think about how sick I got when I smelled the onions on my cheeseburger.
“You’re tired and emotional because you’re stressed out about this test, and we’ve been studying our asses off, and your boobs probably hurt because you’re getting ready to start your period.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, reaching for my phone. “You’re probably right.”
“You and Lincoln use condoms, right?” she whispers.
“No. Not anymore.”
“But you’re on birth control?”
I nod. “Haven’t missed a dose.”
“Then you’re good. There’s no way you could be pregnant.” She watches me pull up the calendar on my phone and flip through it. “Right?”
“Wrong.” The floor drops out from under me, and my heart starts hammering inside my chest. “Oh God, wrong. Wrong, Abby,” I say, thrusting the phone in her face. “That red x is when I should’ve started my period. Three weeks ago.”
“Calm down. You’ve been irregular before.”
“No. I’m always on time. Always. You’re the one who’s irregular. Shit. Shitshitshit. How did I miss this?”