Page 205 of Left on Base

I balance the coffee tray on one knee, jostle the donut bag with my elbow, and nudge open the dorm room door. It’s barely 9 a.m., the hall’s already buzzing with first week chatter, but our room is a cave—curtains drawn, air thick with the scent of old Chinese takeout and defeat.

Callie’s a lump under her comforter, only her hair sticking out, looking like she’s auditioning for Hoarders: College Edition. I set the coffee and donuts on her desk and flop onto her bed, shaking her gently.

“Rise and shine, Babes. I come bearing caffeine and fried sugar.”

“Go away.” She grunts, pulling the covers tighter. “I’m hibernating until this is over or I’m not pregnant anymore, whichever comes first.”

I peel back a corner of her blanket. “I will literally pour this coffee on you if you don’t at least sit up.”

Callie’s face emerges, eyes puffy, hair a disaster. “I can’t drink coffee, apparently.”

I dangle a maple bar out of reach. “It’s decaf.”

She sighs and sits up, hugging her knees. “I can’t eat. I feel like I’m gonna puke every time I think about, you know, my shitty life.”

I nudge her. “You have to eat. You’re growing a whole human in there. Or maybe a lizard. I hear Dubai’s got wild genetics.”

She gives a weak laugh, then buries her face in her knees. “I don’t even know if the NCAA’s gonna let me keep my scholarship. I’m supposed to be the next big star at UW since my sister… not the one who can’t even figure out who the father is.” And she’s back under the blankets.

I hand her the decaf coffee. “Hey, you’re still that girl. You’re just… gonna have a hell of an ESPN story. ‘Against all odds: Pregnant point guard conquers world.’”

She snorts and lifts her head. “More like ‘Cautionary Tale: Don’t have sex with idiots during March Madness.’”

I chuckle softly, wanting to keep it light but real. “Listen, if it makes you feel any better, I once thought I was pregnant too. With Jaxon, freshman year. Didn’t tell anyone. Turns out, I was. For about two months. I miscarried before we even figured out what the hell we were going to do.” I glance at my hands, surprised I said that out loud. “So, yeah. You’re not alone. I’ve literally been where you’re at. Except, I definitely knew who the dad was.”

“Girl, what?” She looks at me, shocked, then softens. “Why didn’t you say anything? I’m your best friend and I didn’t know about you being pregnant?”

I shrug, voice low. “I hadn’t even processed it myself. Jaxon was the only one who knew. It was during super regionals and then, before I knew it, I miscarried. Jaxon broke up with me a week later. That’s what Inez was hinting at in the article.” I wince thinking about it. Even though I appreciated her writing another blog post glazing me, it still doesn’t sit well that she wrote about me in the first place.

Will I ever be friends with Inez?

No. Sue me for being petty—I don’t care. Look at me, learning how to stop being such a people pleaser.

Callie’s face flushes with anger and her eyes narrow, ready to take on the world in all her hormonal rage. “I’m gonna kill Jaxon! He broke up with you because you lost the baby?”

I hold up a hand, pretending to be the voice of reason. “Okay, rage queen. Simmer down.” I pat the top of her head. “He didn’t break up with me because I lost the baby. He ended it because we were both trying to navigate postseason playoffs, and our relationship had become another responsibility he couldn’t handle. He was just as scared as I was. We were both freshmen trying to figure out what playing at a Division 1 school wouldbe like, and it was nothing like we thought. This life is full of responsibilities they don’t prepare us for in high school. So I get it. We were both scared. And I know you and Jameson are too. It’s only natural.”

Callie shakes her head, tears welling up again. “I wish it was Jameson’s. I mean, I hope it is because Sawyer’s so dumb and would make the world’s worst father. But I don’t know if Jameson will ever forgive me. I was so stupid. I feel like I can’t even look at my own face.”

I lean in, bumping her shoulder. “Cal, you made a mistake, and yeah, that mistake got you pregnant and you don’t know who the dad is, but look at it this way: you’ve got me. And donuts.”

She smiles and wipes her eyes. “What if I lose everything, Cam? My scholarship, basketball, my whole plan? And worst of all, what if Jameson hates me forever and never talks to me again?”

“Then you make a new plan.” I squeeze her hand. “Or you fight for the old one. Either way, you’re not alone. Jameson needs time to think, but he’s a good guy. I can’t see him walking away if it’s his.” She nods, as if she’s trying to believe me. “And if you don’t eat that chocolate glazed right now, I’m calling your mom and telling her you’re living off ramen and existential dread.”

She rolls her eyes and finally, finally takes a bite. “You’re such a pain in my ass.”

I grin, relief settling in my chest. “That’s what best friends are for. Now, wanna watch trash TV and pretend none of us have real problems for an hour?”

She nods, sniffling and wiping the sleeve of her oversized hoodie across her nose. “Only if you get more donuts. And maybe keep the curtains closed forever.”

“Deal. But I’m opening the window and lighting a candle. This room smells like a locker room’s armpit.”

Callie laughs. “It kinda does.”

A couple hours later, we’re both sprawled on her bed, empty donut bag between us, Gossip Girl droning on in the background. The room feels softer now, less like a bunker and more like a safe little fort for two exhausted souls. Sunlight sneaks in around the blackout curtains, a reminder the world is still spinning outside.

I pick up my phone to check the time and see I missed a few texts from Jaxon asking if I want to meet for dinner after his practice.

---