The Natural History of Us (35 page)

I shook my head. “No point worrying until we know for sure.”

The truth was, I couldn't let myself think too far ahead. If I did, I'd panic. Ever since she told me she was late, I'd been living moment to moment. First, it was getting to the drug store. Then, finding the right test. The rest of the night was spent checking and double checking my alarm, making sure I woke up on time, and making up a bullshit excuse about a team meeting.

Two minutes.

The
drip, drip, drip
of the leaky faucet filled the silence, and my anxiety ratcheted with each plop. The seconds ticked so slowly that I knew they were messing with me, trying to drive me insane. I heaved an impatient breath, and my knuckles blanched white as I clutched the basin.

“Justin, I just think you should know, that regardless of what it says, I—”

“Please, Sunshine. Can we please just… wait?”

Forty-five seconds. I couldn't listen to her speech for another forty-five seconds. If she blamed me then, she had every right to do so; if she didn't, well, she damn well should. But until that stick declared our fate, I couldn't handle anything else.

Evidently, Peyton could. “Seriously?” She folded her arms against her chest. “That's how you want to play this? You know, I'm every bit as scared as you are. It's not like I planned for this to happen. But it is, we're here, and it'd be a hell of a lot easier if you…”

She glanced down where the indicator sat on the sink and her shoulders slumped.

Oh shit
. Positive. This was happening. We were about to be parents.

I stared at my reflection and firmed my jaw. It was time to man up.

“Okay.” My voice was rough and I coughed to clear it. “I'll find your Dad. I can tell him, or we can do it together…” I stopped talking when Peyton raised her head, eyes filled with tears, but a smile of relief on her face.

“It's negative.” She grabbed the stick, fisting it like it would run away or suddenly change responses, and said, “I'm not pregnant. Holy cow, I'm not pregnant!”

The stone walls echoed her scream and she slapped her free hand over her mouth, laughing and crying at the same
time. “Can you believe it? It was a false alarm. Maybe… maybe it was just stress from exams? Oh, who the hell cares, I'm not pregnant!”

The tackle hug took me by surprise and my back slammed against the wall.

“Thank you,” she said, wrapping her arms around my waist. “Thank you for being here. I couldn't have done it alone. I was up half the night, wondering what we'd do, how I'd tell my parents.” Another laugh escaped and she leaned her head back to look at me. “What a relief, right?”

I nodded in agreement. I'm pretty sure I even smiled. My limp arms slid around her shoulders as the words “not pregnant, she's not pregnant,” repeated over and over in my mind.

What the hell was wrong with me?

Why wasn't I laughing like a maniac, too, or squeezing Peyton tight in celebration? We narrowly escaped a fate neither of us wanted. And here I was, standing like a zombie.

Peyton slid her arms to my chest and pushed back, studying me again. “You're okay, right? I mean, this is good news… isn't it?”

“Oh, yeah, awesome news,” I replied, trying to snap myself out of it. “I guess I'm just in shock. But yeah, definitely good news.” And now I was a robot zombie.

Worry replaced joy as she watched me and she said, “Today's only a half-day. Just a bunch of B.S. assemblies and weepy goodbyes. If you want, we can skip… maybe grab some breakfast and hit up a movie?”

“Nah. The team has a meeting after school, so I should hang around.” I took her hands in mine, gave them a gentle squeeze, and then pushed away from the wall. “But maybe later, yeah?”

Peyton nodded, face blank of emotion, and I knew it was my fault. I was acting bipolar, but hell if I could help it. My head was a mess, my chest felt like a block of ice, and I suddenly
wanted to punch my fist through a wall. I wanted to talk to my grandparents, but they were long gone. The only other person I could talk to now stared at me like I had two heads.

I had to get out of here.

“Listen, I'm glad you're all right,” I told her, grabbing my backpack from the floor. “There's something I have to do before school starts, but let's talk after, okay?”

Then, like Satan himself was after me, I bolted from the room.

***

“Hey, gorgeous, you gonna miss me this summer?”

Sometime between January and now, Lauren Hays's voice became like nails on a chalkboard. Chills, and not the good kind, crept down my spine whenever she stopped to say
hi
, or stalked my locker to flirt, like she was doing now. It was annoying as hell, but, ready to get my ass out of here, I put on a fake smile.

“You know it, beautiful. But you know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.” With a disgusted grimace, I shoved a binder in my backpack.

This was why I needed to go home. I'd been saying dumb shit all day. My brain clocked out right around the time we got the results, and now, a shot of Dad's tequila was seriously calling my name.

First step, getting past Lauren.

“Well, hopefully your heart's already fond because guess who's gonna be your Diamond Doll next year?” She bounced on her toes with a huge grin, and when I didn't jump to answer, she did it for me. “Me! I thought we made an awesome team this year, so I requested to keep you as mine.”

The territorial smirk was straight out of
Fatal Attraction
. It creeped me the fuck out, but the point was to get out of
here so I just nodded and stuffed a wad of junk in my bag. How did all this shit accumulate in one year? It was disgusting. Forgotten protein bars, ripped-out notes, and sweat-stained socks. Lauren peeked inside and wrinkled her nose.

A loose paper was lodged in the corner and as I yanked on it she asked, “Anything I can do to help you today?”

I shook my head, prepared to say no,
hell no
, when I flipped the paper over in my hand. It wasn't old biology notes or a discarded syllabus—it was a picture of me and Peyton, taken around Easter. She must've printed it out and shoved it in here, because underneath the smiling photo she'd written: “Aren't we cute? Thanks for an amazing time.”

Of course, Peyton meant the entire weekend… but the conclusion Lauren was drawing wasn't wrong. Her jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed, and any chance of our relationship staying a
secret
was over.

Lauren loved gossip even more than she loved her designer shoes, and I'd heard her talk enough about that shit to last for years. I needed a distraction, quick, or the truth would be spread around school sooner than an ump could call foul ball.

That was the last thing either Peyton or I needed right now.

What if Coach found out? What would the guys say? All the reasons I'd had not to get involved with Peyton were still there, only now I had a million more. This morning was a wake-up call. We were playing with fire, and we were lucky to escape with only a singe.

Peyton deserved better than me, though she'd never admit it. She was too good. Too kind. Too addicted to her hopeless causes. She took them in at the ranch all the time, trained them up and loved them enough so they were rehabilitated. But I wasn't a stray dog or a wounded horse. Love and a firm hand wouldn't save me. I was a walking time bomb, and I couldn't put her at risk anymore.

I reached into my pocket. “Actually, Lauren, there is something you can do.”

Her grin was instant, if not malicious, as I withdrew my phone and sent a text to Peyton.

The
whole dang morning had been a blur.

After seeing the words “not pregnant” on my pee-stick, I'd assumed the day would be amazing. We'd dodged a huge bullet, and now an entire summer stretched before us—no school, no baseball, no gossiping classmates to hide from. Justin and I were never closer… or we were never closer up until last night. If we could just get past this, the summer ahead promised endless days of laughter and kisses, and nights filled with even more. We'd just have to be more careful.

But Justin was acting so weird. I understood him freaking out over the unknown; heck, I turned into a snotty, crying mess myself. But now that we knew I wasn't pregnant, that we weren't having a baby, the freak-out should've ended. Right? Twenty-four hours ago, Justin would've twirled me around that bathroom, kissed me senseless, and made plans to meet up later. Today's version acted like he couldn't run away fast enough.

What was his deal? Did he
want
a baby? Even as I thought it, I knew he couldn't, not after his big speech about his own parents. And we were
fifteen
. The second we read the words, we should have been celebrating.

So why does it feel like we're breaking up?

I shoved the question away and pushed through the gym door. It didn't make sense, and that was why it didn't matter what Justin wanted to tell me, or why he'd asked me to meet him at our spot. I was going to remind him exactly why it was our spot. The concession stand was where we shared our first kiss… my first ever kiss. It was where I started falling in love with him. And even though he hadn't said the words, I knew the truth.

Justin loved me, too.

Yeah, we were going to be fine. We just needed to clear the air and move the heck on.

With determination singing through my limbs, I picked up the pace.

Not for the first time, I cursed my weakened limbs. If it weren't for GBS, I could move faster, even run like I used to. My limp was almost gone, though, and if I kept at it, really hard, my speed would return. Now that I knew I wasn't pregnant, that's all I'd do this summer. Focus on regaining my strength.

That, and get Justin to admit to his feelings.

Grinning, I lifted my face to the sun. It was June in Texas, so it was hot as Hades, but the rays felt good on my skin. Like a promise of good things to come. The smell of recently mowed grass filled my senses and I kicked off my sandals to feel the smooth blades beneath my feet.

The baseball diamond was deserted. It was weird to see because even when the team didn't have a game, the bleachers were always filled. People read or dozed in the sun. They hung out and texted or made out. But today, the second the dismissal bell trilled, everyone beat a path to the parking lot. School was out for summer… and the entire field was now our playground.

Anticipation kindled under my skin and I hoofed it a little bit faster.

A minute or so later, I was a few feet away from the concession stand and I caught a glimpse of green fabric near
the edge of the building. While in theory, it could've been anyone, only one guy filled out his uniform polo like that.
My
guy.

“Hey there, sexy!”

I was giddy. We were alone and I could call him whatever I wanted. I could run, or, in my case, walk very fast into his arms and kiss him senseless right here, in plain sight of the bleachers and parking lot, and no one would know.

Summer was going to
rock
.

Only, Justin didn't turn and throw his arms out. Instead, he stiffened. Strange, since he texted me, asking me to meet him here… and even weirder because he still had yet to face me.

My feet slowed of their own volition. It was as if they knew what I'd yet to admit. Saw what I was refusing to see. Because now that I was closer, despite my rapidly slowing steps, and even with Justin's head still turned, I could clearly see his profile.

Along with the bright pink lipstick stain emblazed on his left cheek.

I staggered forward. My hand slapped across my mouth as the peanut butter crackers from the vending machine threatened a comeback.
No
. Justin wouldn't do that. Not to me. He wouldn't cheat. Justin loved me. I knew he did.

Only, the proof was damning. Not only the lipstick stain, but the muffled giggle. Lauren Hays ducked beneath his arm, stepping out from behind the building with a little grin like she was embarrassed. I wasn't fooled. She made a production of wiping her bright pink mouth and said, “Oh hey… Peyton, is it?”