Page 160 of Even Exchange

“Yeah, wanna get lunch?”

“I can’t,” she says, lips rolled together. “I have cheer practice.”

“Right,” I say at the reminder of yet another thing that’s been taken away from me. I knew my life would change when I got that message. I just didn’t realize it would happen so fast.

“We could do dinner?” she asks, eyes hopeful. “Sushi and shit-talking?” Her eyes widen. “Wait, fuck. Can you even have sushi?”

“Oh my god! Goodbye.”

“See you tomorrow,” she says as I turn toward the Bronco. “And you better have some good details to report. My sex diary awaits!”

I get in the driver’s seat, setting my bag of textbooks with a Louis Vuittonprice tag on the passenger floorboard. The engine roars to life, and I glide my hands around the steering wheel.I can’t believe Noah bought me this car.I should’ve never accepted it. He surely wouldn’t have done it if he knew whose baby I was really carrying.

‘I hope we last like honey.’

A smile graces my lips. I need to stop making assumptions about what he would want and do. Actions speak louder than words, and Noah’s actions are resonant.

I make it in the house with twenty minutes to spare, Andi’s pep talk fresh in my mind. My phone’s at fifteen percent, typical, so I put it on the charger by the night stand. Rushing to the bathroom, I take in my appearance. My attention hones in on the sloppy bun atop of my head. Groaning, I quickly unravel it and untangle the hair with my fingers. Once deemed acceptable, I make a beeline for the closet. A celestial light beams down on Noah’s old CBU jersey with the number thirteen, and I throw it on, knowing he’ll go crazy.

I pick my phone back up from the nightstand, unplugging it.

17:44: Missed Call. Noah.

Shit.

A text notification is also on the screen, and I click on it.

Noah

I tried to call early. Coach is making us go to a press conference tonight

Time stamped ten minutes ago. I didn’t notice it because I was getting ready for our “not” date. The disappointment rips me apart like a supernova tearing through the fabric of space.

So much for some long-distance love-making.

32

CHARLOTTE

I’m officially doom scrolling.

Noah’s on his way home from practice and I’m curled up on the couch, phone in my hand, jittering with nerves. He’s been gone so much the past few weeks, including the away game last weekend, and I’m desperate for connection.Girl, you are thirsty.

As I tap through stories, a sickening feeling sits in my stomach at a post from a high school friend that includes Jonathan’s smiling face at the Longwood Springs.

Jonathan.

My cheating ex-boyfriend, and by unfortunate circumstance, father to this child.

You need to tell him.

I’ve struggled with this decision. It would be so easy to pretend the baby is Noah’s, although given how far along I am, most people could piece it together, and I’m really not trying to hide anything. I amnotashamed of her.

I want to tell him and get it over with. Rip the final band-aid off the gaping wound of our relationship and see how it heals.

A text pops through.

Mother

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