Page 10 of Knocked Up by the Doctor

I want to argue, but I don’t have it in me. I know if I stick around, I won’t be any help with the way I’m feeling.

“Fine,” I give in. “I’m sorry. I promise to feel better on Monday. It’s probably just some bug going around.”

As I walk to my car, I try to think about where I could have gotten sick from. Tonight is our first and only shoot for the week, and we’ve stayed in, having lunch delivered.

Before I make it home, my phone starts to ping repeatedly. Who’s texting me? Lexie knows I’m driving, and my parents don’t usually call or text until Sunday.

I ignore my phone until I’m in my apartment, have on my comfy pajamas, and have the covers pulled up to my chin. Only then do I grab my phone off my bedside table and look at the messages I received on the way home.

Lexie:Are you home yet?

Why was she asking if I’m home only a few minutes after I left? You can’t get anywhere in LA in only five minutes.

Lexie: I was thinking.

Lexie: How long did you say you’ve been feeling nauseous?

Lexie: You need to hurry up and get home because I’m freaking out.

Why is she freaking out? Does she think I got her, Ryder, or Delilah sick? I’d feel horrible if I got one of them sick.

Lexie: Do you remember the hottie from the exhibit?

How could I forget him? Every night, I dream about all the things he did to me in bed.

Lexie: I don’t want to freak you out, but… have you had your period.

I drop my phone as I think back to the last time I had my period. I can’t remember. I mean, they’re not normally memorable, though.

In a daze, I hit Lexie’s name, and the phone starts to ring.

“Oh my god, are you home?” She answers.

“Yes, I just got into bed.”

“Well?” She asks like I know what she’s talking about.

“Well, what? I’m going to try to take a nap and see if I’ll feel better after that.”

“Did you read my messages?” There’s a pause, and then she huffs. “It says you read my messages.”

“I did. I’m home. Yes, I remember the man I went home with. It’s not something I’m bound to forget.” Especially if I keep dreaming about him.

“And my other question?”

“I don’t know. My periods are neither here nor there.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She asks, exasperated.

“I can’t remember. My periods are a minor inconvenience. They’re light, and I don’t have cramps, so I don’t normally think too much about them.”

“Well, you’re a lucky bitch.” I know. “The reason I asked is what if it’s not a bug, but you’re pregnant?”

“That’s not possible,” I blurt back without thinking. It could be possible. We did have sex without protection, but what are the odds I’d become pregnant from that one time?

“Do I need to explain to you how a baby is made?” She giggles, making me do the same.

I blow out a breath. “I know how it’s done, but I can’t be.”

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