Ellie squatted over the toilet with the pregnancy stick between her legs. She didn’t know how, but she was late—really late. She’d never missed her period before, although she’d known plenty of girls in the sorority house who had. Only one of them had actually been pregnant. It had been two weeks since Eli’s gala, and just a little longer since the last time Henry had come inside her.

She’d been trying to console herself with all the soothing words she recalled from college. Sometimes women were just late. Maybe it was stress, both physically and emotionally. There were countless reasons she could be late, but somehow she knew the truth, felt it in the pit of her stomach. She’d also heard this before. Women just know.

As she placed the pregnancy test on the counter to wait for the results, images of Henry swirled in her head. Despite her best efforts, she had seen him since the event. Eli kept bugging her about attending White House events and said it would be good to keep busy. Not to mention great networking opportunities the vast majority of people never had. Every time she spotted Henry, he just stared at her from across the room with a brooding look plastered on his face.

Once, he’d even brought a stunning date of his own. And Ellie knew he didn’t have Sam with her deep connections to the modeling world to make her jealous. Dante had been happy to help Sam out, and she’d loved the intense jealousy the male model had fired up in Henry, but the outcome hadn't been what she’d expected. “That’s because you let him have his way with you!” Sam had chided her when Ellie told her what had happened. It was true. It wasn’t Sam’s, or Dante’s fault. It was hers.

Ellie had watched out of the corner of her eye when Henry had waltzed into that luncheon with that knockout blonde on his arm. Not only was the girl unbelievably gorgeous, but clearly she had charm and intelligence, too. Ellie could tell in the way she carried herself and didn’t even falter when Eli introduced himself. Most women were entranced by Eli, the best thing to happen to the White House since Kennedy. At least according to the news. The blonde kept trying to engage Henry, but he wasn’t having it.

He never talked to her at these events and hadn’t sent a single text or email. Now here she was, peeing on a freaking stick. How could this have happened?

Ellie hadn’t a clue. She knew they’d been careful, not that it had required much work. Sam had convinced her freshman year to get an IUD. Sam swore by them, loved not having to worry about taking a pill every day. “And the Mirena makes it so a lot of women don’t even have their period!” she’d told Ellie, like she was going to get a commission if Ellie went with Sam’s suggestion.

“Does it hurt?” Ellie had asked.

“Nah,” Sam said. “Super quick.”

It had been the most painful thirty seconds of Ellie’s life. It didn’t sound like much, thirty seconds, but when the pain was that intense, it stretched out. The OB-GYN had patted her foot and said, “Sorry, honey. Some women have more nerve endings in their cervix than others. I guess you’re one of the ‘lucky’ ones!”

When Henry had asked her if she was on anything, she’d been quick to claim her propensity for safety. At first, he’d faltered when asking about a condom. “I’ll use it if you want me to,” he’d said. But she hadn’t. Ellie had heard it all before, that you never really knew if someone had an STI unless you saw a recent full panel screening for yourself. Some things took years to show up on a test. Even HIV sometimes. Her mother had pounded the idea that some diseases were forever, whether it was HIV or herpes, in a scare-tactic campaign that Ellie had thought was indestructible.

All it took was the idea of a barricade between her and Henry to throw all of that knowledge out the window. The thought that she wouldn’t feel the rush of his come into her nearly broke her heart. “It’s fine,” she’d said. “I trust you.” Henry had remained unsure until he came in her that first time.

“I’ve never done this before,” he’d said, and her heart swelled up with happiness. In a way, she was his first, too.

Ellie’s timer on her phone beeped, and she drew in a big breath. This was it. The test wasn’t wishy-washy. A big, clear, pink plus sign had appeared.

The rush of tears overcame Ellie in an instant. Fat, salty tears raced down her cheeks. She was twenty-two years old! Who the fuck gets pregnant within the first week they have sex? She had a goddamned IUD! The tears started to turn ugly, and Ellie gulped for air.

When there were no more tears left in her, Ellie wrapped the test and box in tissue and buried it deep in the garbage can. There was no way her mom could find out. In her room, Ellie fell back onto the little twin bed. This room is so pink, she thought. The last big change she’d made to it was when she was fourteen years old. Then, it had been a big deal to get fancy white crown molding installed along with a crystal chandelier over the vanity. She’d thought it had made her seem more grown up, the bedroom of a Hollywood star. It was where she could get red carpet ready.

She’d been an idiot. Now she was too grown up for it. What would her high school self think if she knew she’d be knocked up at twenty-two without even having a boyfriend? She’d never even been in a relationship with Henry! At least some girls could say they’d been actually dating the guy who got them pregnant.

Ellie took in the light pink walls, the pink bedding with the Laura Ashley pattern, and the “accent wall” with the Barbie pink wallpaper with gold features. Actually, this is right where you belong. In a little girl’s room. Too immature and stupid to see a situation for what it is. You couldn’t even keep yourself from getting pregnant.

What would Henry say if he found out? Would the baby look like him? She wasn’t sure if she’d want that. Of course she wanted to see Henry and all his perfection in their baby. If she couldn’t have him, at least she could have the next best thing. Maybe a better thing, she thought to herself.

On the other hand, she didn’t know if she could handle seeing pieces of him every day and not having him herself. Would the baby have his dark blond locks, or her own stream of auburn tresses? His intense brown eyes, or her own lighter irises? How would they move, and would they inherit his ski slope nose or her slightly broader version? The possibilities were, of course, endless. At the idea of having Henry’s son or daughter, her heart squeezed in that way that was now so familiar. Lovesick.

A baby. It was insane. Ellie had always understood, from an outsider’s perspective, how some women wanted them. The debate of biological and adopted came up a few times in college. Ellie saw both sides. Nobody could argue that there wasn’t a surplus of children who desperately needed homes around the world. “It’s so selfish to have bio kids when we’re already having a population problem—and there are children who need homes!” said one of her sorority sisters.

Sam had rolled her eyes. “Fuck, worry about yourself,” she’d told the girl. “Some people want the whole pregnancy experience thing. I mean, I don’t and apparently you don’t either, but don’t hate on something just because you don’t get it.” Ellie had kept quiet, but she’d agreed with Sam. The whole miracle of childbirth thing had seemed so distant back then. She was sure it was a miracle, but not one she could even fathom having an opinion about at the time.

Now, she got it.

Motherhood, in reality, had never crossed her mind. She’d assumed she’d have kids, one way or another, one day. It was a decision that would be made down the line. Sean had brought it up to her, a couple of times, but in that innocent “What would we name our baby?” way. They’d never talked seriously about kids, whether it was how many they wanted, adoption versus bio, or anything else.

This is real. This is really happening. Ellie grabbed her phone and thumbed through her contacts. Her first instinct was to call Henry. He was the father after all. She felt a pang in her chest when she realized he was slowly creeping down her recent contacts list. She clicked his name and held the phone to her ear. One ring. Two. She hung up. You don’t need Henry or his questions right now, she told herself.

Ellie scrolled to the top of her list. Sam. She needed Sam. She needed unconditional support.

“Why are you calling me at this ungodly hour?” Sam asked, groggy with sleep. “Actually, why are you calling me at all, texting queen?”

“Sam. Can you come over?”

“Now?”

“I need to talk.”

Sam’s voice was clear, instantly awake. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here.”

“Um, no, you’ll tell me right now.” Sam had a unique way of going from party girl to doting mother in a second. It was one of the things Ellie had always loved about her. She put up a tough façade, but that was all it was.

“I can’t—” Ellie began.

“You can,” Sam said. “You can’t just call me up all mysterious and expect me to worry about you the whole drive over there. Just tell me what’s wrong. I’m coming, just putting shoes on now.” Ellie could hear her banging around on the other end. “Shit,” Sam said. “You need to go,” she hissed to someone on the other end.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Ellie said. “Sukhdeep’s there—”

Sam said something so quiet Ellie couldn’t hear.

“What?”

“I said I got rid of the lamp.”

“Oh.”

“Ellie. You tell me what’s going on right now. I’m getting in the car.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“Fuck.”