I ended the call and stared at the tests all over the bathroom. The numbness had set in. The stunned, numbness that meant I could barely feel my hands.

I picked up my phone again from the counter, my hands trembling.

Me: Sash, I'm pregnant

I couldn't believe this was happening. Birth control had been second nature since college to regulate my periods, but it wasn't like I'd had a chance to test its effectiveness until recently.

Sasha: Holy shit! Seriously?!

Me: Yes

What did I tell him? How did I tell John I'd gotten pregnant? I'm pretty sure that's not what he had in mind when he shared my suite at the wedding.

Sasha: Good job, way to work your way through every high school cliché and you've been out for almost a decade.

I guess that was a silver lining. At least this hadn't happened back in high school. The rumor mill would have gone into hyper drive, plus the whole having-a-kid-back-then thing.

Me: I hate you

Sasha: How are you doing?

Me: I'm freaking out.

I ran my hand across my forehead, squeezing it like I'd be able to think my way out of this situation.

Sasha: It's John's, right?

Me: Yes, it's John's. How many guys do you think I'm sleeping with?

Sasha: I don't know, just checking...

Me: You're no help. I'm sorry I even said anything.

Sasha: I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, and you know I'll be there if you need anything.

Me: A time machine?

Sasha: All out of the plutonium I need to run mine...

Me: What do I do now?

Sasha: Have John's baby?

Me: FUCK

Sixteen tests. The person at the pharmacy thought I was insane buying that many, but I wanted to make sure. I'd bought two boxes of every single type they had there.

The second time I threw up that morning, it dawned on me. I triple-checked my calendar and raced to the pharmacy.

Sasha: Come on. It's not that bad

Me: It's not?

Sasha: You're not some high school or college kid. You're an adult. You have a good, if unorthodox job and your family has money.

Me: Gee, thanks

Sasha: I'm just pointing out the obvious. You'll be fine.

Me: What do I do about John?

Sasha: What do you mean?

Me: I got pregnant. I feel so guilty. This is the kind of shit that guys are always ranting about. Some chick getting knocked up and then getting stuck with her.

My heart pounded as I thought about him hating me. I couldn't handle that. We were only barely in a place of not shooting fiery barbs at one another whenever we saw each other.

Sasha: And that's the kind of guy John is?

Me: No, not really

He'd be a great dad and he'd probably not hate me, but then what? We were still trying to figure if there was an us. A real us. Throwing a baby into the mix was only going to complicate things.

Sasha: So what's the problem? You two fucked. You two got pregnant. This isn't a one-sided thing. It's a risk every time.

Me: I don't know what to do.

Sasha: I'd suggest talking to the father of your soon-to-be child

I hung my head between my knees.

Me: I'm not ready for that

Sasha: You need someone there with you. Who do you know in the city?

Me: John, Rachel, Killian

Sasha: Seriously?! How long have you lived there and you know three people?

She didn't need to remind me how much of a pathetic hermit I was. I already knew this, and nothing like a life crisis to drive that point home. I'd lived in my cave for so long, I didn't even know how to make new friends anymore.

Me: I know more people, just none I could call up and say, hey, guess who's having a baby with a guy she slept with once. This girl!

Sasha: Fine, call Killian. He knows John. He'll be able to give you some sound advice in person and hopefully talk some sense into you.

Me: I will

I stared at my screen for a long time trying to figure out the best text message possible to tell your friend you're pregnant with your other friend's baby. I couldn't stomach a call. I was such a fucking coward.

Sasha: Do it! I'm going to get some food, but when I get back, you'd better have called him.

Me: Fine

I sent Killian a text. 'I'm pregnant. It's John's.'

The little text bubble appeared before the phone rang in my hand. I reluctantly answered it.

"What.The.Fuck?"

"I know," I said, miserably.

"So that's why Grim wanted a beer."

"What? No, I haven't told him."

"You what?" he shouted and I had to hold the phone away from my ear. "You haven't told him?"

"No, I just found out. And you can't tell him."

"Frankie—"

"Do not tell him. I will tell him once I figure out what I'm going to do."

"What do you mean? Are you not going to keep it?"

"Of course, I am. I didn't mean about that. I meant try to figure out what I'm going to do about John."

"Okay. What do you want me to tell him?"

"Tell him ‘I'm sorry’. I...me cancelling the date had nothing to do with him. I mean, nothing to do with me not wanting to go on the date with him. I wanted to go. Just make sure he knows I don't hate him or anything. This isn't a great time, and I need a chance to think for a while."

"I think you should tell him. Come meet us and tell him."

"No, please do this for me Killian. Please," I begged. He let out a deep breath.

"Fine, but I'm not doing this forever. This isn't high school."

Relief washed over me as I slumped down onto the couch.

"Thank you. I promise, not for long. It will take me a little bit to get things straight in my head, and then I'll tell him."

"You'd better. I'm here. I'll talk to you later."

I ended the call and leaned back. When I set my phone down, it dawned on me that I’d left the house without my cuffs or a bracelet or anything. I’d gone out with my wrists and my scars on full display. The thought of leaving the house without them before usually sent me into a panic. Walking around campus with wide bandages around my wrists was a surefire way to get the wrong type of attention. People always thought they knew how I’d gotten them, but somehow them thinking I’d tried to kill myself was in some ways better than the truth.

After all this time, I’d run out of the house without even thinking about it. There were more important things happening. I buried my face in the couch. The smell of peppermint filled my nose. It still smelled like him. Tears prickled the backs of my eyes. What did I do? How do you tell the guy you're kind of dating that you're pregnant with his baby?