Page 75 of Bagging the Blueliner
Frowning, Natalie glanced inside. “Why did you buy so many?”
Frustrated, I threw my hands up. “I don’t know! I panicked!”
She eyed me warily. “Jeez. The way you’re acting, you’d think you were the one who was possibly pregnant.”
I crossed myself. “Don’t even say that shit out loud.”
Amy stood from where she sat on the bed, twisting her hands nervously. “Since we have a few extras, do you think you guys could take one too? Just so I’m not alone?”
Natalie threw an arm around her waist. “Of course we will.”
“I don’t know . . .” I was stalling, trying to think of any way I could get out of this.
“What? Scared?” Natalie challenged.
Snatching one of the boxes, I glared at her. “No.”
Her lips turned up in an evil smirk. “Good. Then you can go first.”
My eyes widened. “Me?”
“Why not? You’ve got nothing to hide, right?”
Ooh, I hated her so much right now. Cracking open the box, I stared at the sealed stick. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
“You pee on it.” Natalie rolled her eyes. Moving over to her purse, she rummaged around before pulling out a black marker. “Here. Put your initial on the back at the bottom so we know which one belongs to you. Then leave it on the counter, with the results window facing up. Nobody looks until we are all done and the timer goes off.”
Snatching the marker, I grumbled, “Fine.”
Closing myself in her ensuite bathroom, I opened the plastic around the stick. If I had it my way, I would never have cause to encounter one of these. But I would do anything for Amy—both of them, really—so here I sat, in the middle of the Caribbean, having a showdown with a pregnancy test.
“Here goes nothing,” I muttered to myself before sitting on the toilet, trying to angle the stick so I didn’t get urine on my hands.
Why was this process so disgusting from beginning to end? Maybe the amount of bodily fluids involved in creating and carrying out a pregnancy was nature’s way of preparing a woman for the spit-up and diaper changes when the baby arrived. I wasnotinterested in any part of that process.
Capping the stick, I wrote a black H on the bottom handle and left it on the counter, face up, along with the marker.
Emerging from the bathroom, Natalie went next, then finally Amy. I set my timer for two minutes, and we sat silently, watching the time tick down on my phone screen. When the alarm went off, we all stared at it, no one making a move.
The silence stretched on for what felt like forever, and when I couldn’t take it a moment longer, I blurted out, “I’ll go look.”
Amy’s green eyes met mine, and I could see the hope shining through them. Regardless of my feelings on the matter, I prayed she got the result she wanted when I walked through that bathroom door.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the bathroom. Walking to the counter, the three pregnancy tests were lined up side by side with the result windows facing up. Looking at them, I froze.
“What the fuck?!” I yelled.
Two of them were positive.
Amy and Natalie burst into the tiny bathroom, their eyes going right to the tests.
Natalie realized what she was looking at first and breathed out, “Oh shit.”
My finger shook as I pointed at her. “Does this seem like a good idea now?” I was this close to having a mental breakdown.
“Taking the test doesn’t make you pregnant,” she shot back.
Fuck. She had a point. “Well, if we didn’t take the test, someone would be blissfully ignorant right now.”
