Sequel: Tied Together

This Wasn't Suppose to Happen

Part 1

“Okay Janelle, you can do this. All you have to do is pee on a stick, how hard can this be?” I asked myself as I stared at the blue and white box trying to summon enough courage to actually open it. Deep down, I knew what the outcome would be and I just wasn’t ready for a confirmation.

Tossing the box onto my unmade bed, I slowly walked out of the room and down the hall towards the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of water and paced around the room as I constantly drank the ice cold liquid. The phone rang and I ignored it, not even bothering to check the caller id. I wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone, in all my life I’ve never been able to keep quiet about anything but here I was keeping my mouth shut and feelings bottled up inside.

Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized that I had been pacing and putting off taking the test for over 2 hours. It was time to suck it up and get it over with. Throwing the empty water bottle into the recycling bin, I hurried down the hall towards my room. Grabbing the box, I made my way into the bathroom and without giving it a second thought I peed on the stick and laid it back into the box to wait it out. Soaping up my hands and taking longer than normal to wash them, I couldn’t stop my mind from going back to that night. The one night that could potentially change my entire life.

Seconds slowly turned into minutes and minutes seemed like hours. Finally it was the moment of truth. Saying every prayer I had ever heard and keeping the fingers crossed on my left hand, I took out the stick and took a deep breath. “Oh my god……”


The sound of knocking increased as I struggled to open my eyes. I willed it to stop, but of course, it didn’t and I couldn’t ignore that god awful sound. Tossing the covers off of me, I struggled to get out of bed. “God, what did I do last night?” I asked myself as I slowly made my way down the hall and towards the knocking. Not even bothering to see who was on the other side of the door, I threw it open and looked into those hazel eyes. It was in that minute I contemplated throwing myself off my balcony because crashing into the pavement 18 floors below would be a hell of a lot better than what was about to happen.

I didn’t even bother to invite him in, I just stepped slightly to my right as he brushed past me and heading into the living room. “Are you going to explain this?” he asked as he held up his phone. I racked my brain to remember what I could have possibly sent him and then it hit me. “Shit”, I muttered under my breath as the memory of my composing that text message last night became clearer.

“Oh, ya. Well, see…. I don’t know” was all I could say as I flopped down onto the brown leather sofa.

“You don’t know? You send me a message telling me you’re pregnant and all you have to say is you don’t know? Janelle, do you even know who the father is?” Nate flopped down next to me and put his arm around me.

Closing my eyes, I counted slowly to ten before I opened them again. “Ya, I know who the father is. It’s the guy I told you about a few weeks ago”, hoping that Nate remembered and I wouldn’t have to go into details.

“The hockey player? Didn’t you use protection or something? I mean whenever I bang, I make sure I glove first. Speaking of which, I saw the hottest guy on my way here, I would love to jump his bones right now”. Only Nate could change my being pregnant into one where he’s discussing someone he wants to sleep with.

“Nate, every guy you see makes you want to jump their bones. Why is this one any different?” I asked as I twirled a piece of hair around my finger.

He turned to look at me. “Sorry J. Hockey player, father, pregnant… I’m back on track now. All you need to do is tell me that it’s not who I think it is because if it is… wow”.

I could feel the tears coming. “It’s exactly who you think it is”, I said softly as a lone tear escaped and slid down my cheek.

Nate gently wiped it away and looked at me with concern all over his face. “Okay, its going to be okay. We’re going to call him and you’re going to talk to him and we’re going to figure this out. I’m here every step of the way; I can be the gay uncle. I mean Tori Spelling has Gunkles for her kids, that’s trendy, that’s hip… I can do that, you know. Maybe we can have a TV show like hers and it will be Nate and Janelle: Gunkle and Mother and we would get tons of viewers and win moon men from MTV and become rich and famous”. Whenever Nate rambles it means that’ he’s freaking out and from the way the words are spilling out of his mouth, I knew he was about as close to an aneurysm or stroke as you could get. Plus the fact that his face was getting redder by the second only added to my theory.

“Ya, Nate, you’re not helping here. I can’t have you freaking out because I’m losing it over here. I don’t know what to do”. The sobs erupted and I could not hold back the flood of tears any longer. Nate took me into his arm and stroked my hair as I cried harder than ever.

“Shhhhh, its okay”, he said over and over as he held me even tighter. “First things first, we gotta get the guys number and you need to speak to him. Leave it to me”. He slowly released me and grabbed his iPhone from his jeans pocket. Getting up off the couch, he dialed a number. “Hello? Hi, I need a number for Sidney Crosby”.
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