Heir Born

18 | Summer

Paisley's lying on her stomach across my bed, half-scrolling, half-flipping through a copy of Interview magazine she snagged from my desk. Every few seconds, she hums like she's reading, but she hasn't turned the page in ten minutes.

Meanwhile, I'm sitting cross-legged on the floor, trying — and failing — to make my annotated notes for the journalism elective look effortless.

"He's going to know," I mutter, crossing something out so hard the pen squeaks.

"Who?" Paise asks without looking up.

"Nate. He's going to read it all over my face the second he walks in here. I'll be blinking Morse code in embarrassment. He knows my tells, you know."

Now she looks up. "You're being dramatic."

"I'm being accurate." I glare at her.

"He agreed to be interviewed for the paper. You're going over there just to talk about soccer and the pre-Oxford scholarship, not analyse your every heartbeat in his presence."

I roll my eyes. "You didn't see how he looked at me yesterday."

"Like you're a girl he might maybe potentially kind of like?" she snorts as she teases me. "Tragic."

"Don't mock me. I'm spiralling."

"Spiralling is what I do when I run out of skincare. You're just obsessing, which is, like, actually on brand for you." 

She shrugs, as I grab a pillow from behind me and toss it at her head. She ducks, in between her mean-sounding laughs. The pillow misses completely and lands in a heap on the floor beside her. Paise always had good instincts. Great reflexes. 

"Seriously though," I say, quieter now, "The last thing I need is Nate taking advantage of the moment to be his usual self. Ever since he discovered he can somehow miraculously make me blush, he wields it like a knife over my head. Always threatening me."

"Summer." She's more serious now. "You're not an amateur. You can handle an interview. You've done plenty. And you can handle Nate, evidently. Because when you guys are at each other's throats no one dares come into that war zone. And... if Nate's as into you as we all can see he is, he won't care that you're nervous, or that you're blushing when he makes some joke or flirty comment."

Paise can really make a girl drop down from her cloud. Now, I'm more nervous... what if Nate kisses me again? My stomach is a slow, simmering ache of nerves and potential disaster.

"Still," I sigh. "Maybe I should figure out what to wear for Saturday when I go over to the Manor. Something that says: 'no nonsense, this is business, but I can still be cool and casual'. I think—"

Suddenly, Paisley sits bolt upright. The magazine falls to the floor.

"Paise?"

She doesn't answer. Just bolts. Hand over her mouth. Straight into my bathroom. I hear the retching before I can fully stand.

"Paisley!" I rush in after her, heart thumping. She's on her knees in front of the toilet, hair falling over her face, one hand gripping the edge of the porcelain like it's the only thing keeping her upright.

I drop beside her, grabbing her hair, rubbing her back, doing all the things I've done for her a million times after parties. But this doesn't feel like that. This is different.

When it's over, she slumps back, pale as moonlight, arms cradling her stomach.

"Oh my god," I whisper. "Are you okay?"

She nods vaguely, like her body hasn't caught up to her yet. Then she looks at me, and her eyes are glossy.

"I think I'm pregnant, Summer."

The room tilts a little. Did she just "pregnant"? I think she said "pregnant". 

"What?"

"I'm late. Like... really late. And my boobs hurt. And I've been queasy for days. But this—" she gestures at the toilet "—this kind of confirms it. Maybe? I think? I don't know."

I sit back, stunned. "Have you taken a test?"

"No." She buries her face in her hands. "I haven't even had time to breathe, let alone go to the pharmacy." Not surprised. She and Preston have been joined at the hip these last few weeks, I'm sure that's why she hasn't even gotten a moment to go and see a doctor.

We sit in silence for a second. My mind racing. Hers probably faster.

Then softly, I ask, "Preston?"

Her silence is answer enough.

Shit.

She nods, eyes shut. "It was the summer. After you left. We were both still in Aspen. And one night... it just... spiralled. Then another night. And another. And suddenly we were something, but not really. And when we came back here, it was like... 'why stop just 'cause we're back home, and back at school'? So we... carried on seeing each other."

My chest tightens for her. "Why have you never talked about it?"

"It just seemed so... I don't know, trivial with everything that's going lately with you, and Nate. Your families. The hearing. Besides, Pres and I decided not to tell anyone." Her voice cracks. "But Nate found out."

"I know. He told me." Paise looks at me, surprised. 

"At Preston's party, in the pool house." 

She heaves a sigh of relief. What did she expect? Preston can't keep his mouth shut when it comes to Nate. Thick as thieves those two.

"Sorry I kept it a secret from you. I just—" She throws her face in her palms again. She seems utterly devastated. I don't know how to make it all better for her.

"It's okay, Paise. I'm not mad. I get it." She looks up at me. 

She gives me a weak look. "I don't want to have a baby, Sum. I'm not ready. I don't want my parents to know. I don't want the school to know. I just want it to go away."

My heart aches. For her, for the fear etched into her voice.

I reach out and take her hand. "Okay. Then that's your choice. But I think... I think you should talk to Preston. Before you do anything."

She pulls back like I slapped her. "No. There is no way I can do that. I just can't." Oh, no. She's going full panic mode. I have to bring her back somehow. 

"You don't have to decide right now," I say gently. "But this is a big deal. And he was part of it, even if he doesn't know. You shouldn't have to carry it alone."

Her lip is trembling. "What if he doesn't care?"

"Then at least you'll know. And we'll deal with that too. Together." No question. I mean, this is way beyond my realm of "can solve" problems, but we will find a way.

She finally nods. Just once. And I squeeze her hand again.

"Whatever happens next, Paise... I'm here. You're not doing this alone."