“Right, but you just said your head didn’t hurt right now. Have you had your period since August?”
My stomach sinks. “I see what you’re getting at. But I can’t be. I haven’t had sex since . . . like my birthday. Well, Boston, actually. But that was over three months ago. I think I would know something like that by now.”
“Kenna, you’ve been grieving Katie and mending your broken heart. You’ve been understandably preoccupied. Not only are you grieving, but you’ve been focusing on studying and getting back on the court. Would you take one if I go to the pharmacy and get some tests?”
I shake my head. “That’s not necessary. It’s not possible, B.”
“Then it’s settled. There’s no harm in confirming you’re not pregnant. If the test is negative, you should follow up with your doctor. If it’s positive, well . . . then I’ll be there for you either way.”
Her words are both soothing and unsettling. Brooke has been a really good friend to me. Could she be right? It sounds bad when she lays it all out. But I’ve always had unpredictable periods.
I cave, knowing I’ll feel better once I confirm I’m not pregnant. “Alright. Let’s go to a drugstore off campus. I’d like to avoid being recognized by anyone we know.”
Brooke barely has the door to my dorm room open before Carson comes barreling into my room.
“What the fuck happened?” he grinds out.
He stops short when his eyes land on the three pregnancy tests lying on my desk. The threepositivetests.
His head slowly turns to look at me. I’m on my bed, cradling my stomach in the fetal position. When his confused gaze meets mine, it turns to concern. I throw my head in my hands as the sobs rake my body all over again.
Brooke clears her throat and grabs her jacket. “I’m going to give you guys some space. Kenna, call me if you need anything. Please. Actually, you know what? Just call me when Carson leaves, no matter what. I’ll plan on staying the night in here.”
I hear Carson’s tender voice tell her, “That won’t be necessary. I’ll stay here. I’m not letting her out of my sight tonight. Thank you for texting me, Brooke.”
“Of course. Kenna is the one who asked me to text you,” she informs him before quietly closing the door behind her.
I feel the weight of Carson’s stare. “Mack, talk to me.”
“I can’t bear to look at you, Carson. This is so fucking bad,” Ichoke out.
He sighs. “Mack, come on. It’s going to be okay. You haven’t even confirmed you’re pregnant yet, have you?”
I turn to look at him. “I think three positive tests suggest I’m very clearly pregnant, Carse.”
He shifts on his feet. “Aren’t there false positives? I mean, maybe you got a bad box.”
I scoff at his suggestion. “I don’t need to go to the doctor to confirm anything.”
Carson’s brows furrow. “No, but you do need to go to the doctor to confirm how far along you are and make sure everything is okay. You have been really sick, but I guess I just thought that was from the accident.”
When I don’t respond right away, he adds, “I have to ask. Is G the dad?”
My chin begins to wobble. “Yes. I haven’t even talked to another guy.”
Carson hangs his head and takes a deep breath. “Well, that’s good. Griff is a good guy. I know you guys are going through a lot right now. But he would never abandon you.”
Angry tears sting my eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure. He already abandoned me when things got hard. He won’t speak to me, won’t return any of my calls, or reply to my texts. I’m not even sure how I’d tell him. This isn’t exactly something you say over a text or leave in a voicemail.”
Carse pulls me in for a hug. “It will all work out, Mack. You’re the strongest person I know. I’ll be by your side, supporting you no matter what you decide to do. Let’s tackle step one together. Where’s your computer?”
I point to my desk, where my laptop rests next to the tests.
“Alright, we’re going to find you a doctor to see. If they have any appointments available that I can make, I would like to go with you if you’re okay with it.”
“I don’t think I could go without you at this point.”
Carson’s unwavering support causes the floodgates to open—I cry in his arms until I can’t physically cry any longer. He doesn’t lecture me. He doesn’t tell me I was irresponsible. He just holds me in his arms and lets me get it all out.
