One of Those Nights

Mila browsed the rack in front of her, studying each garment of clothing with great intent. 

"Hate it, hate it, hate it," she muttered through gritted teeth. "I hate them all."

Mila had been hired to style a shoot for a Teen Vogue spread, but she was having a difficult time liking anything she was given. 

"These are fine," her assistant and good friend, Anna spoke, holding up a pair of Sass & Bide jewelled embellished shorts. 

"I think I'm going to puke," Mila said, clutching her stomach. 

"Oh come on," Anna rolled her eyes. "They're not even bad. You're just in a crumby mood."

Mila hurled over, shaking her head. "No. Grab me that trash can," she urged pointing towards a trash can in the corner of the studio, lined with a plastic bag. 

Anna quickly scurried over to the trashcan as ordered and propped it in front of Mila, who within a matter of moments brought up her regular morning bagel and skim latte. 

"Are you okay?" Anna asked, trying to hide her look of disgust as she held Mila's hair back. 

Mila shook her head, the acid from the bile causing her eyes to water as it seared her throat like wildfire. 

"I feel horrendous," she admitted as she fixed her posture before reaching for her bottle of water, which remained inside of her handbag. "I think I've got the flu or something."

Anna pursed her lips together, nodding silently before going back to the rack of clothing that stood before her. "Yes... The flu..."

"What?" Mila questioned, the tone in Anna's voice taking her off guard.

But Anna didn't break her gaze from the pieces of material she was now running her hands over. Instead she pretended to study each one carefully.

"Anna," Mila pressed, folding her arms across her chest. 

Anna sighed as she stopped filing through the clothes, turning her petite frame towards a now very pale Mila. She looked as though she hadn't slept in days. 

"Well,"Anna started. "You're exhausted, clearly. You cannot stop eating red velvet cupcakes, which is very unlike you considering you complain you don't really like them and suddenly you can't stand the smell of Marc Jacobs' 'Daisy', your favourite scent. Oh, and your boobs are getting huge."

Anna took a deep breath before continuing. 

"Did you use protection when you slept with that guy in San Diego?"

Mila chuckled, rolling her eyes. "I am not pregnant, Anna. And my boobs are just getting bigger because I've been eating a lot lately..." She assured averting her gaze towards her chest. 

"Prove it."

"What do you mean, prove it? How am I supposed to prove it? As my friend you should believe me," Mila defended, drawing her attention back to Anna.

"When was the last time you got your period, Mila?" Anna interrogated. 

Mila was quickly growing annoyed. "Like four weeks ago. I'm due any day now," she mumbled tossing her water bottle back into her handbag, picking up the trash can in front of her. She desperately needed to dispose of its contents before the smell made her nauseous again.

"You know what? I'm going to go to the store and buy a test-"

But Mila cut her off before she could finish. "How accurate are those things anyways?"

Anna rolled her eyes and picked up her handbag, brushing her dark auburn locks to one side of her face. "I'll buy two then."

"Anna," Mila urged. "We still have another two outfits to pick."

Anna just held out her hand. "Give me the bag, pukey pants. I'll drop it in the trash on the way out."

Mila looked down at the plastic bag she was now holding and handed it over to Anna slowly, a look of disgust adoring both their faces. 

"I'll be back soon," Anna ensured much to Mila's dismay. "Just... Do the best you can with the pieces we have."

Mila nodded but stayed in silence as Anna hurried for the door, the studio soon feeling empty. 

Part of Mila wanted to cry at the possibility of being pregnant. She hadn't slept with anyone since Mike which had now been four weeks ago. And before Mike was her ex-boyfriend, four months ago, meaning if she were pregnant it would undoubtedly be Mike's doing. 

"Shit," she muttered at the thought as she tried to concentrate on piecing together an outfit. 

How would she tell Mike? Despite her sending an apologetic text, the last time the two talked was at Olive Garden where he caught her out for lying to him. 

She barely knew him. 

'I'm not pregnant,' she thought to herself. 'I can't be.'

She tried her best to shake off the feeling before resuming back to her work - a good distraction. 

-

Mila wanted to wait until she finished work before she underwent any activity that had anything to do with a pregnancy test. Anna had brought three, just in case. 

She hovered over the stick, feeling somewhat silly, urinating on it as instructed, mentally thanking herself for consuming plenty of water throughout the duration of the day. 

"Anything?" Anna questioned through the bathroom door of Mila's tiny Santa Monica apartment. 

"Last one!" Mila scolded, a part of her wishing Anna hadn't chosen to accompany her back to her place that evening. 

"Hurry up," said Anna, adopting an impatient tone.

Mila set the last test down with the other two on the bathtub. 

"Urinating on queue is hard," Mila dully noted, pulling up her underwear shortly followed by her jeans. 

She then opened the door letting a very impatient Anna in.

"I'm scared," Anna admitted as she stepped inside of the bathroom. 

"Oh gee, really? Imagine if you were me right now? I don't even want to look."

Anna laughed slightly looking down at the tests perched on the bathtub. 

"What if I am pregnant?" Mila muttered. "I'll be doomed. This will ruin absolutely everything."

Anna took a deep breath. "Well," she said looking up from the tests and to Mila who stood before her, anxiously awaiting the results. "Consider yourself doomed..."

Mila's eyes turned hollow as she stared at Anna incredulously. She then built up the courage to avert her sight to the tests for confirmation – all three donning a little plus sign. 

"Fuck!" She cursed.