<b>92 </b>


    <b>“</b>Not really.” Tatiana looks me up and down. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little green.”


    Once we move closer to the register, the feeling gets worse. Only once the girl behind the counter reaches for Tatiana’s clothes do I realize it’s Tatiana’s perfume that sets me off. The stronger the smell, the sweatier and more nauseated I get.


    “I’ll meet you outside.” Nothing in the world matters more than getting out of this store. The ss doors are my sole goal, and I walk toward them as calmly as possible, even as my insides start churning. Stupid me, thinking if I never got sick like this before now, I’d be one of the lucky ones who never had to go through it.


    I burst through the double doors to the outside, sucking deep breaths into my lungs. The sunshine is so bright, ring off the concrete, but there’s an awning over the wide front window, and I take shelter beneath it. A few minutes pass, and the nausea seems to pass with every breath I take. Shit. Suddenly it urs to me that I have a new reason to be nauseated. What if she knows? I can y it off<b>, </b><b>I </b>think. I’ll tell her I didn’t have enough breakfast or something and started to feel dizzy.


    “Hey!” Tatiana’s voice meets my ears as shees out with a bag in each hand, a look of concern etched into her features. “It looked like you were going to barf all over the floor. Are you okay?


    No. Not with the smell of Tatiana’s perfume clinging in the air. The sickening floral scent suffocates me, making it difficult to breathe. Never mind the bile rising up in my throat.


    I take off, lurching for the closest trash can and barely grabbing the rim with both hands before the nausea wins and I empty my stomach in the grossest, most public way possible. E. Even as I’m gagging and retching, there’s shame in the back of my


    mind.


    Finally, it passes, and there’s nothing left but a shaky, weak feeling left inside of me. Embarrassment tickles the back of my mind, but I shove it back. I can’t be the only person ever to vomit in a garbage can at a shopping center.


    Tatianaes up beside me, gently touching my back, which she rubs in slow circles. “I’ll go to the vending machine and grab you a water. Wait here.” She rushes off before I can stop her. Not that I want to. The taste of vomit clings to my tongue and I need to get rid of it now.


    I can’t bear to look at anyone as I sink weakly onto a metal bench next to the trash can. A few slow, shallow breaths of balmy air help clear the rest of the dizziness. Tatiana returns, frowning as she hands me a cold bottle of water.


    “Thanks,” I whisper. “I’m so embarrassed.”


    “Nobody will remember it in five minutes,” she assures in her typical no–nonsense way.


    “Do me a favor, okay? Don’t tell your dad. You know how he gets, all anxious and whatever. I’m sure he has enough shit on his te.” I y it off like it’s not a big deal, but in reality, if he’s even the slightest bit suspicious that there might be something wrong with me, he’ll send me to a doctor before I can object.


    “Yeah, sure. Maybe that bloated feeling was something else. It seemed to appear out of nowhere.”


    “Yeah. It did, but it’s probably nothing. Just a bug.”


    rexpect her to take the spot next to me, but instead, she folds her arms across her chest<b>, </b>the bags hanging from her wrists.” Hmmm, maybe. It’s possible, yes, but the fact that you got sick that quickly after being okay all afternoon, and you don’t want Dad to know.”


    Oh. No.


    “You’ve beenining that you’re bloated,” she continues. “And then yesterday, you didn’t have a drop of alcohol at brunch.”


    “I didn’t feel like drinking, so what” I whisper before taking another sip of water. My hands tremble. <b>I </b>can see the puzzle pieces clicking into ce in her mind, each one moving strategically.


    “Are you pregnant?” Tatiana asks on a sharpugh, like she doesn’t believe the words but needs to ask anyway. A lie rushes its way to the tip of my tongue, ready to tumble off, but I don’t have the heart to speak it. I’m tired of lying. She’s going to find out


    eventually, and then I’ll look like a hypocrite for trying to deceive her.


    Damn it. This <b>isn’t </b>the way it was supposed to happen. I didn’t want her to find out like this–basically all on her own.


    “Don’t lie to me. Please.” Her voice is low and t, sending icy fingers of fear racing up my spine. “Are you? Or is there a possibility that you might be?”


    My tongue is so thick I can barely speak. “I…”


    Her eyes widen as a bright, red flush creeps onto her cheeks. “Fuck Stop. Don’t say anything else.”


    I press my palm to my mmy forehead. This isn’t going well. Not at all. The fear of our friendship melting like snow in the summer terrifies me. I can’t lose her. She’s my best friend. “Wait, please. I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear. I’ve been taking birth control. It was an ident.”


    Her lips part, except nothinges out. Every second that passes Hardens her face a little more, until she might as well be wearing a concrete mask. I can’t read her, and I hate it. “I… I need a minute to figure out how to feel about this.”


    “Please, don’t hate me.” My legs tremble as I stand, but not from nausea. This is so much worse than I pictured, even in my darkest, most fearful nightmares. I can visibly see her pulling away from me.


    “I don’t,” she ims, but her shoulders pull up around her ears when I reach out, seeking to hug her.


    My arms fall back to my sides. “You look like you do. I swear, I didn’t n for this. I don’t even know what to do or how to feel. And he doesn’t know. Not yet,” I add in a rush.


    She merely snorts. “Something tells me I would’ve known by now <b>if </b>you told him.”


    “Do you think he’ll be mad?”


    “How would I know?” My face falls, and her brows pinch together. “Sorry. I’m not…”


    “You don’t have to apologize.”


    She stares down at the concrete while I gaze at the water shooting out from the mouths of four metal fish in the center of the fountain. Kids are sshing and ying along the edges, and Moms are pushing babies in strollers with Starbucks cups nestled into carriers. How can they all walk past like everything’s okay when my life is in the middle of falling apart?


    “If you’re worried that I did this on purpose or to trap him,” I whisper, my chin quivering. “Please, tell me you believe me. It would kill me to know otherwise.”


    She blinks rapidly, shaking her head. “Never would I consider it. You’re better than that.”


    “Thank you.” I sigh with relief. There she was, telling me she was fine with us being together. I guess adding a baby into the mix makes it a whole other situation, in any case.


    “Okay, let’s just pause for a moment,” she finally blurts out. “The whole thing is making me feel weird think we should go home. I need some time to think.”


    “yeah, sure. Whatever you want.” I have to bite my tongue before I can do something awkward, like ask her not to tell Gianni. Something tells me I’d regret it if I did. That might be the final straw that breaks our friendship for good, if I haven’t already destroyed it by confessing my secret.


    Tendrils of fear snake up my back. There’s no hiding the truth anymore. I must tell Gianni before Tatiana blurts it out- identally or otherwise. I should’ve known that I would never be able to keep this a secret.


    All I can do during the long, quiet ride home is hope Gianni meant it when he talked about having childreth me. I can only hope he has it in him to be the man I need. The man we both need. The alternative is something I can’t fathom thinking about a the moment. My only hope is that Gianni and I can figure this out, and that my rtionship with Tatiana hasn’t been ruined in the process.