I'm not sure whether they had been especially concerned about germs that particular morning, but as soon as Shay and I walked through the automatic doors of the Hospital, a wave of cleaning vapors smacked us right in the face. In my shock, I recoiled, and looked over at Shay, giving her a "what-the-holy-mother-of-hell" look, and found that she was making a face too, her perfect button nose scrunching as the chemicals invaded her nostrils.
"Lovely..." she commented tightly, fanning the air with a hand.
"I know, right?" I replied, but despite the ammonia particles practically chocking us to death, we continued forward, on a mission and in a hurry to get it over with.
As we continued down the hall to where the actual doctors office was, the white walls and white doors and startlingly purple carpet, mixed with the stinging in my nose, confused my senses, and I couldn't see straight for a second, running directly into the corner next to the door.
For the first time that evening Shay smiled and laughed a bit, helping me through the doorway. "Walk much?"
"I'm not made for land..." I replied.
She smirked. "So I've been told."
All joking stopped when we turned to face the receptionist and the reality of what we were here for sank in.
Shay had been with her boyfriend Pan for over a year, and Shay wasn't known to be a prude, and they loved each other, so obviously they had been sleeping together, but there was a bit of a scare happening... Her period was late. Almost two months late actually... And she freaked out. Which is completely acceptable given the situation. So, as best friends do I decided to help her and calm her down by taking the test with her.
"Names?" the receptionist asked, a gentle smile taking over her unique features.
"I'm Lorelei Jayce, and that's Shay Walkman, we both have appointments today," I said, watching Shay nervously spin her turquoise and sterling ring around ring finger.
On any normal day, I would've stopped her, but "normal" was not a word I would use to describe that day. Not at all.
We waited in the corner seats, trying to ignore the baby magazines sitting beside us, the cover with the young mother smiling joyously at her baby son seemed to mock the situation. Shay was starting to pick at her bracelets.
Against my better judgment, I asked, "what are you gonna do if you are?" Tiptoeing carefully with my word choice.
She stopped fiddling with her hair ties for a split second before letting her hands drop.
She blinked rapidly as the strained words were whispered out, "I don't know..."
Soon a nurse with bright red hair called us in with a smile, and we watched her smile falter a bit when she read our charts, but she plastered that smile right back on before she looked up and told us it would be just a moment.
We were given cups and went into separate rooms to do what I'm sure you expect, and were sent out into the waiting room again once we were done.
She picked at a piece of paper in her pocket as we waited in silence, tearing it into little confetti bits. Even I was picking at my jacket sleeve in worry for her.
The whole room seemed to be filled with tightly pulled strings just waiting to snap, and our worrying was strumming at them restlessly.
We watched the clock, checked our phones, completely peaceless, until the nurse came back out and our heads snapped up to attention.
Her face showed that she was trying to hide her emotions, and they were all so mixed up that I couldn't tell what the results were. So I impatiently waited for her to formulate the right words.
Ẅould you like to go somewhere more private?" she asked.
Shay shook her head. Ḧere is fine.¨
After a pause, she looked over at Shay and said, "I'm not sure whether to congratulate you or not, but you're not pregnant," and Shays eyes lit up with relief. But then she turned to me, and my stomach dropped, ¨But you are."
All Shays strings rattled into a chorus of ringing as mine snapped all at once, and then the silence screamed at me, shattering my glass world into a thousand pieces.
Through all the soundless noise, only one thought crossed my mind...
What will my parents say?
YOU ARE READING
C o m p l i c a t i o n s
ChickLitThe hardest part was realizing that in that moment, I had to grow up, and I also had to let go. I had to do what I felt was right instead of following the guidance of someone else, even my parents. No more flying blind. It was my choice. And I k...
