Well and Truly Fucked

All in a drunken stupor

I felt sick the entire day, my stomach churning with every passing hour, a heaviness deep in my belly. When the bell finally rang, I made my way through the hallway, forcing a smile and saying hello to all the bitchy girls I secretly hated. Amber had already snuck off somewhere, hoping to catch a glimpse of Adam in the corridor, leaving me alone to deal with the overwhelming nausea.

I couldn't take it anymore. I slipped out the fire exit and ducked behind a dumpster, my stomach twisting violently. I leaned over and vomited, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I straightened up. That's when I heard him—Saint.

I looked up in horror. He was sitting on the low wall opposite, a cigarette between his fingers, watching me with those piercing blue eyes. He'd seen everything. My heart dropped, the embarrassment and panic washing over me in a sickening wave.

I froze, every muscle in my body tense as Saint took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. My pulse pounded in my ears, the taste of bile still lingering in my throat. For a moment, I didn't know what to do—run, apologize, or pretend like nothing had happened.

He flicked the cigarette onto the ground, crushing it under his shoe as he stood up, still watching me with that unreadable expression. I opened my mouth, desperate to say something, anything, but no words came out.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You alright?"

His voice was low, casual, like he hadn't just seen me hunched over, vomiting behind a dumpster. I nodded quickly, wiping my hand on my skirt and forcing a tight smile. "Yeah. Just—just feeling off today."

He didn't respond, just raised an eyebrow slightly, as if he didn't quite believe me but didn't care enough to push it further.

Without another word, Saint turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, my heart racing, the weight of my secret pressing down harder than ever. I watched him go, his figure disappearing around the corner, and I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to spiral out of control.

I quickly adjusted my clothes, tugging my skirt back into place and smoothing down my top. My hands trembled slightly as I checked my reflection in my phone's screen, wiping at the corner of my mouth to make sure there were no lingering traces of what had just happened.

But even under all the layers of makeup—foundation, bronzer, blush—I looked pale. Too pale. My usual glow was gone, replaced by a sickly pallor that no amount of cosmetics could hide. I sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me. The reality of everything, the pregnancy, Saint, all of it, was crashing down harder now.

I took a shaky breath, trying to pull myself together. There was no time for breakdowns, not now, not when I had to go back into school and pretend like nothing was wrong.

I slipped back into the school, making a beeline for the girls' bathroom. As soon as I pushed open the door, the familiar scent of vanilla vape hit me. Amber was perched on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, exhaling a cloud of vapor, the stall door slightly ajar. She looked up at me through her thick lashes, her blue pigtails framing her face.

"Where the hell did you disappear to?" she asked, taking another drag from her vape, her tone casual, but her eyes narrowing slightly as if she sensed something was off.

I shrugged, leaning against the sink and pretending to check my reflection in the mirror. "Just... needed some air," I muttered, trying to keep my voice steady, though the sight of my pale face made my stomach churn again.

Amber raised an eyebrow, blowing out another cloud of smoke. "You look like shit, babe. Seriously. Did you eat something bad, or is it, like, boy trouble?"