The Senior (College Years 4)

“I know. I’m just—there’s no way it’s possible.”

Another skeptical look from my brother, but at least he’s smart enough to keep quiet. “I’m starving so I’m headed downstairs. See you in a few?” He starts for my bedroom door.

I nod. “Yes—and Jake?”

Pausing, he glances over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

I go to him, throwing my arms around his waist and giving him a hug. He returns it, holding me tightly. “Thank you.”

“For what? All I did is freak you out.”

I laugh against his shirt front. “Just for being there for me. Even though you’re irritating sometimes, I do appreciate you.”

He chuckles, dropping a quick kiss on top of my head before he lets me go. “Come downstairs before they send me back up here to get you.”

“I will,” I tell him as he leaves my room.

Autumn takes a while to come up here and I’m pacing around my room, gnawing on my lip as I consider all the possibilities.

No way am I pregnant. I’m not that girl.

My stomach roils at that exact moment, and I cover my mouth, pausing to study my reflection in the mirror above my dresser.

Yeah, I don’t look good. I could rectify that. A little makeup, maybe curl my hair…

I don’t have time for all that. A quick fix will have to do.

Hurriedly, I change clothes, putting on a pair of jeans instead of leggings. Slipping on that cute black sweater I bought a few weeks ago. I go into my connecting bathroom and brush my hair, hating how staticky it looks and throw it up in a quick bun instead. I’m applying mascara to my lashes when Autumn finally barges into my room, sounding out of breath.

“Why aren’t you downstairs at the table?”

“I’m getting ready.” I turn to look at her, noting how adorable she is in the dark green, flower-printed dress she’s wearing with tights and boots, her dark hair perfectly curled. She looks like she walked straight out of a photoshoot.

“You look better,” she says, her gaze kind. “Are you feeling better too?”

I nod, trying to ignore the nauseous wave taking over me. “Yes.”

“Good. You must have some weird twenty-four-hour thing,” she says.

I drop the mascara into the drawer and shut it before turning to face her. “I was wondering if I could possibly be…pregnant.”

Autumn’s mouth drops open and she reaches out to grip the bathroom counter. As if she needs to or she might topple to the floor. “No.”

“I don’t know,” I whisper. “I haven’t had my period in weeks.”

“You’re on the pill.”

I slowly shake my head.

Her mouth drops open even more. Not sure how that’s even possible. “Ava, really? What the hell?”

“It’s hard to explain.” I wave my hand. “And I can’t worry about that. But I’m wondering. Or maybe I’m just sick.”

“Stress can cause you to skip your period,” she kindly points out. “Going off the pill can too.”

“I’ve been off it for months.”

Autumn doesn’t bother asking why, thank goodness. I can give her all the details later. “You should take a pregnancy test.”