Page 63 of Riot Reunion
“And what if Pat happens to beusingthat cot when I get there?”
“I’m sure he won’t mind top and tailing with you, Merce,” he says, voice dripping with venom.
“LOOK!” Elodie has kept quiet until now, but apparently, she can’t bite her tongue any longer. “Mercy, of course Wren isn’t going to kick you out in the middle of the night. Wren, you’renotkicking her out. You can sleep on the couch in the living room.”
“Pssh. I don’t sleep oncouches, New Girl.”
“Jesus Christ. Such a fucking child,” Wren says. “You’re a bitch to theoneperson who’s actually trying to be nice to you, Mercy. The one person who you absolutely shouldneverbe rude to if you want to land yourself in my good graces—”
“Hah! I couldn’t care less about your good graces. I—”
What if it’s twins?
A cold, nervous sweat breaks out all over my body.
What if…it’s fuckingtwins?
Is Chase so damn sick because she’s walking around with two of my progeny in her belly? Two smaller versions of me? Oh my god. Holy shit, oh my god. My chest is so tight. Why the hell is my chest so tight? I sit down next to Chase, ignoring the petty back-and-forth volleying of the Jacobis’ argument, deafened by the sound of my pulse thundering in my ears. Chase is already looking at me when I turn my attention to her. “Have you had a scan yet?” I ask, doing a masterful job at leveling out my voice.
She shakes her head. "I didn't—I couldn't—"
“We’re booking you in for a scan first thing in the morning.”
“We haven’t even had chance to properly talk this through,” she whispers. “What’s the point in having a scan if—”
“We’re getting you a scan.”
Chase stops talking. She assesses me, her eyes searching my face, looking for something there that might help her make sense of all of this, I suppose. I don’t know if she finds it, but eventually she nods. “Okay. But we still have a lot to talk about.”
“Agreed.”
She leans her head against my shoulder. A knot forms in my stomach as I brush her hair back, tucking it behind her ear. Such red hair. If we do have this kid, will it be dark like me? Or will it have her coloring? I’m overcome by the hope that rises up inside of me. A daughter, with fiery hair just like her mother? I was riddled with anxiety over the prospect of dealing with a smaller version of me just now, but when I consider what life might be like with a tiny version of Presley in it, the situation takes on a whole new light. I—
I look up at the sudden, deafening silence.
Wren, Elodie, and Mercy are all looking at us. Well, atmespecifically. I frown at them all. “What?”
“Oh, nothing.” Mercy waves a taloned hand in my general direction, her vicious brows arching even higher than they did before. “It’s just so…bizarreis all. You’re the most confrontational, aggressive, hostile person in the whole world, and there you are, stroking a girl’s hair, looking like you’re about to break out into ‘The Hills Are Alive with the Sound of Music.’NowIwant to throw up all over myself.
I swear to God, what I wouldn’t give to punt this miserable witch out on her ass and send her Louis Vuitton luggage set out right on after her. Wren and Elodie seem to mirror her thoughts, but at least they’re keeping their mouths shut about it. Wren knows I’d beat the shit out of him if he ever—
The front door slams, startling all five of us.
What the hell? Do people just roll up out of the blue whenever they feel like it now? What is this place, a fucking motel? Will there be nopeacetonight? Wren darts to the archway that leads into the living room. He returns moments later. “Looks like we have ourselves a full house.” Behind him, he’s followed by…holy shit…
Dash and Carrie?
Chase rockets to her feet. There are instant tears from the girls. They rush around the kitchen island to hug their friend. Their reunion is emotional as fuck—the girls haven’t seen each other since a couple of weeks after graduation, I guess. I shake Lovett. Some people might consider the move rough, but he knows it’s about as affectionate a hello as he will ever get out of me. He slaps me on the back and then addresses the rest of the group, a tight smile pulling at his mouth. “Why the hell is no one answering their phones?”
“Mine’s dead,” Wren answers.
Elodie nods. “Mine, too.”
“Mine’s in my bag in the car,” I say.
“I don’t have a cluewheremine is,” Chase says.
Mercy takes out her fully charged, fully present phone and holds the screen up for everyone to see. No new notifications. No missed calls. No texts. “Don’t give me shit if you didn’t actually call me,” she says.
