Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Oh babe,” she murmurs, crouching over to me, tucking my hair back with one hand and rubbing my back with the other. “Talk to me, how you feeling? Is it food poisoning? Did you drink something weird?”
Too many questions…
“No,” I say, voice muffled. “I think I’m broken.”
Above me, my best friend laughs. “You’re not broken.” She’s quiet a few moments. “Um. So obviously I have to ask…” Her voice drops another octave. Barely a whisper. “Have you considered the fact that you might be… you know.”
I freeze, forehead still pressed to the cool side of the toilet seat. My stomach clenches—whether from nausea or nerves, I’m not sure.
Nova strokes my hair. “Poppy. I’m not trying to freak you out, I just—this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like total shit lately.”
I don’t answer.
Because yeah, I’ve considered it.
Still not ready to say the words.
She nudges me slightly. “Do you want me to go get a test? I’ll tell the server we want the bill while you clean yourself up. You can wait here. We’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t know if I can pee right now.”
My best friend chuckles softly above me. “I didn’t mean pee on a test right this second; we can go back to your place where it’s private.”
I groan, dragging my hands down my face. “But what if it’s positive?”
Nova doesn’t miss a beat. “Then we deal with it. Simple as that.”
Simple as that. Like she’s not talking about potentially flipping my entire life upside down and shaking it until everything falls out. I just moved to Texas for pities sake!
“I don’t even know how this happened,” I mumble, immediately wanting to smack myself in the forehead because—duh. I know how it happened.
I was there.
“Well. If you need me to draw you a diagram—”
“Stop making me laugh.”
Nova continues rubbing my back and stroking my hair. “Look, we’re not doing anything until you feel ready. But just in case, I’ll run to Target on the way to taking you home.”
I squint up at her. “You’re always looking for any excuse to go shopping.”
“Guilty.” She shrugs.
“Ugh, why is this freaking me out so much?”
She pats me on the top of the head like a mother hen. “Because you’re human.”
There, there…
Nova stays with me like this for another beat, patting me while I crouch on the bathroom floor like we’re two drunk college girls recovering from a raucous night out. She doesn’t seem to care that the stall smells vaguely of lemon disinfectant and puke—and if she does, she’s isn’t mentioning it.
Then, with a grunt, she rises to her feet and extends both hands to me.
“Come. Let’s get you up. I’m not letting you melt into a puddle of filth.”
I let her pull me up.
My legs wobble like I’ve just run a marathon in heels. Which is funny, because all I’ve done is sit, drink one sad cocktail, and spiral.
She brushes imaginary lint from my shoulders and then fishes a mint from her purse, pressing it into my palm. “Here. In case the server tries to offer you dessert and you accidentally hurl again.”
I manage a weak laugh. “You’re such a giver.”
“That’s what Luca says!”
I groan at her cheese.
Nova bites down on her bottom lip after she puts her car into park in front of my new apartment. “Maybe I should come up with you—just for tonight. I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”
I shake my head.
The thought of having company right now—of having anyone in my space—feels suffocating.
I need to think. Take this test.
“I’ll be fine,” I insist, forcing a smile. “Seriously. I want to sleep.”
She opens her mouth to argue, then snaps it shut, clearly debating whether to push. Finally, she sighs. “Text me as soon as you…you know. Do the thing.”
“I will.”
By the time I unlock the door to my apartment, the Target bag is crinkling in one of my sweaty fists as I toss my keys onto the console table and toe off my shoes, stepping into the soft glow of the living room.
It’s quiet. Too quiet.
Lonely.
I miss Turner…
Watching a movie doesn’t help; there is nothing I want to watch. No books I want to read. Nothing interesting to scroll on my phone.
When it buzzes I don’t even have to look to know it’s Nova checking in on me. I answer and immediately prop it against the Nespresso, tilting the screen just enough so she can see my face but not my state of emotional wreckage.
She’s already in pajamas, hair piled in a top knot, holding a spoon and what looks like a tub of brownie batter.
“I thought you’d be on the toilet already,” she announces. “I grabbed you a face mask, chocolate, and a tiny candle that smells like hope in a jar, too, just in case.” Pause. “You’re welcome.”
I tilt my head toward the ceiling. The Target bag sits across the room on the counter, out of reach but not out of sight. Taunting me.