Angie laughed. It was true. The poor guy hadn’t stood a chance. She’d gone after him like a cold wind. “I was fifteen years old.”
“Yeah, and now you’re thirty-eight. Conlan’s worth more than some high school jock. If you love him …” Like any good fisherman—and everyone in West End knew how to fish—Mira let the bait dangle.
“He doesn’t love me anymore,” Angie said quickly.
Mira looked at her. “Are you sure?”
In her whole life, this was the first time Lauren had ever skipped a whole day of school. But Angie had been right: Lauren needed facts, not just fear.
She sat stiffly in her window seat on a Greyhound bus, watching the landscape change. When she’d paid her fare and climbed aboard, it had been dark outside, predawn. Light was just creeping over the hills when the bus drove through Fircrest. There, it made several stops. At each one she tensed up, praying no one she knew got on. Thankfully, she was safe.
She closed her eyes finally, not wanting to watch the passing of miles. Each one took her closer to her destination.
You know what makes a girl throw up for no reason, don’t you?
“I’m not,” Lauren whispered, praying that it was true.
Those cheapo home pregnancy tests were wrong all the time. Everyone knew that.
She couldn’t be pregnant. It didn’t matter what that little strip had shown.
“Seventh and Gallen,” the driver called out as the bus rattled to a stop.
Lauren grabbed her backpack and hurried off.
The cold hit her face. Damp, freezing air wrapped around her, made her draw in a sharp breath. Unlike at home, where the air smelled of pine trees and greenery and the salty tang of the sea, here it smelled citylike, of car exhaust and trapped air.
She flipped her collar up to protect her face and checked her directions, then walked the two blocks to Chester Street.
There it was: a squat, unadorned concrete block building with a flat roof.
Planned
Parenthood
What a joke. When you broke it down, she had no business being here at all. It should be called unplanned non-parenthood.
She let out a deep breath, realizing a second too late that she’d started to cry.
Stop it.
You’re not pregnant. You’re just making sure.
She walked briskly up the flagstone path to the building’s front door. Without daring to pause, she opened the door, went through security, and entered the waiting room.
First, she saw the women—and the girls—who had arrived before her. Not one of them looked pleased to be here. There were no men. Next she saw the dullness of it—gray walls, gray plastic chairs, industrial gray carpeting.
Lauren strode up to the front desk, where a receptionist smiled up at her.
“May I help you?” the woman asked, pulling a pen out of her bouffant hairdo.
Lauren leaned closer and whispered, “Ribido. I called about seeing a doctor.”
The woman consulted paperwork. “Oh, yes. Pregnancy test.”
Lauren flinched. The woman had practically screamed the word pregnancy. “Yes. That’s right.”
“Take a seat.”
Lauren carefully avoided eye contact with anyone as she hurried to a chair and sat down. She bowed her head, let her hair fall across her face, and stared down at the backpack in her lap.
An endless wait later, a woman came into the room and called out Lauren’s name.
She popped up and hurried forward. “I’m Lauren.”
“Come with me,” the woman said. “I’m Judy.” They went into a small examining room. Judy directed Lauren to sit on the paper-covered exam table, then sat in a chair opposite her, clipboard in hand. “So, Lauren,” Judy said, “you want a pregnancy test?”
“I’m sure I don’t need it, but …” She tried to smile. “Better safe than sorry.” Her smile faded. She waited for Judy to point out that if Lauren had been more safe, she wouldn’t be worrying about being sorry now.
“Are you sexually active?”
She felt small and much too young to be here, answering these adult questions. “Yes.”
“Do you practice safe sex?”
“Yes. Absolutely. I was with David for three years before I let him … you know … and we’ve only done it without a condom once.”
Judy’s face was filled with a sad understanding. “It only takes once, Lauren.”
“I know.” Now she felt miserable and stupid as well as small. “The thing is that one time was in the first week in October. I remember because it was after the Longview game. And my period that month was right on time.”
“So why are you here today?”
“My period this month is late, and …” She couldn’t say it out loud.
“And?”
“I did one of those home pregnancy tests. It showed positive. But they’re wrong all the time, right?”
“They can be wrong, certainly. How heavy was last month’s period?”
“Hardly noticeable. But it was there.”
Judy looked at her. “Did you know that spotting can occur while you’re pregnant? Sometimes it can seem like a period.”
Lauren felt a chill move through her. “Oh.”
“Well, let’s get you tested and see where we stand.”