The End of Everything

Aella POV:

I missed my period. Shit. A few weeks ago was when the condom broke and now my period was late.

I leaned my head out of the bathroom door and peered into my living room. Derek was lying on the couch with his leg propped up on pillows and an ice pack on the knee.

He was at a game against the Pittsburgh Penguins last night when Brooks Orpik took a slap shot and Derek blocked it with his knee. He fell to the ice immediately and the medics on site decided it was a dislocation and he couldn’t play for a week.

I closed the door quietly and pulled open the doors under the sink. In the back of the cabinet was a small box of pregnancy testers. It maybe too soon for me to rush to the conclusion that I was carrying his child, but I was not willing to take chances right now. I pulled out the pink First Response and began reading the directions on the back: pee on stick.

That seemed simple enough. I took out one of the tests and ripped the plastic baggy encasing it. The plastic stick fell into the sink and I carefully pulled it out. I had to pee on this. Suddenly the urge to pee left my body and was over taken by the need to throw up.

I turned then dry heaved over the toilet a few times and shakily stood back up. That was the third time this week I had heaved over the toilet or sink.

I pulled down my pants and underwear before sitting on the toilet with the tiny stick between my legs. It was like peeing in a cup. I got most of my urine on the object in my hands, but also a good amount poured over my hands and made me almost drop the test into the water below.

I looked at the small box again: wait ten minutes. Ten whole minutes I sat on the toilet to nervous to pull back up my pants or flush. I did wash my hands for a good two minutes of my wait fearing the left over urine on my fingers.

I used the small analog clock we had hanging on the wall to countdown the last few seconds before diving for the test that sat on the counter.

Two lines. What does that mean? I grabbed the box and scanned down the side: two lines means pregnant. Oh my god. I was 23 years-old, un-married, and pregnant. Where’s my MTV spin off?

I pulled up my pants and underwear then flushed and carried the plastic stick behind my back. Derek looked up at me and smiled widely before patting the seat next to him. I wanted to sit there and cry into his shoulder. I wanted to tell him what was wrong, but I couldn’t. This was something we should celebrate. I told him when the condom broke I was ready to have his kids and marry him.

Instead of sitting with him I went into the kitchen placing the test on the kitchen counter and started grabbing ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. I knew exactly how I’d tell Derek about our procreation.

•~•~•

I stuffed my hands into oven mitts and reached into the 350°F oven to pull out my tray of cookies. I had rolled the dough to form the letters I-M-P-R-E-G and a dot. Carefully I placed the test above the dot to make an exclamation point and brought them out to the coffee table before Derek.

“They’re really hot. Watch out,” I warned pecking him on the cheek with each word. He looked up at me and smiled brightly before pulling my body into his lap. I flung the oven mitts onto the coffee table next to the cookies as he kissed my neck slowly.

I leaned into his lips and he pulled back. He pushed me onto the seat next to him and leaned over to grab a still steaming cookie. His blue-green eyes scanned the sheet of cookies and rested on the test. Slowly he turned his head to face me and picked up the plastic stick. After studying it for a few moments he reread the tray of cookies then stared the stick again.

Without looking at me he emotionlessly asked, “Are you certain about this?”

I felt my heart contract. He didn’t sound happy. I wasn’t happy at first, but I accepted it. He didn’t seem to accept it or even remotely want it. I swallowed back tears before choking out, “Yes.”

He finally looked me in the eyes. His eyes were now mostly blue with light wisps of green amongst the clear sky color. They crinkled unevenly at the sides and I knew he was smiling.

“We’re having a baby!” He cheered and pulled me back into his lap. Our lips collided and instantly his tongue swirled around my mouth claiming me as his. I melted into him happy to hand over control.

His hands locked in my hair and pulled me closer and closer to him. I could feel his breath tickle my cheek rapidly as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He groaned against my lips and I pulled back checking to make sure I wasn’t on his bad leg.

He rested his forehead against mine and sighed heavily, “If my leg wasn’t screwed up I’d take you right here right now on this couch, just like our first time.”

I chuckled and pressed my lips to his quickly with determination. Again we began to make out, but this time he slipped his hands under my baggy shirt.

His long thin fingers rested against my lower stomach as if searching for the baby bump that wasn’t there yet.