Finding The Father

Chapter Two "Dylan Takes a Test"

"Maybe you're not pregnant?" Abby said, turning the steering wheel to make a left turn.

"Yeah...maybe." My voice didn't even sound like mine, it was small and weak.

I've only cried a few times in my life: when my grandmother died when I was fourteen, when I got my first period (because I thought I was dying), and when my goldfish died when I was nine.

But the tears were streaming heavily down my cheeks right now, and I could tell it was worrying Abby.

"You're probably not pregnant." She assures me, slowing down at a stop light.

I rested my head on my knees, my feet pulled up onto the seat so I could cradle myself.

I'm only nineteen years old. I'm a freshman in college. I barely make enough money at my dead-fucking-end job to provide dinner for myself. How in the hell could I provide for a baby?

"Dylan, everything is going to be okay." I felt Abby's hand rub the middle of my back soothingly.

Her words were an empty encouragement. I wanted to believe them, but I couldn't. All the signs pointed to pregnant; unexplained nausea, missed period, fatigue. I would be surprised if I wasn't pregnant.

We pulled the car into a parking space in front of our local Walgreens and we both climbed out. It felt like every step I took, my heart started to beat faster. The closer I got to figuring out the truth, the stronger my stomach churned.

The automatic doors opened when we stepped on the sensors and a shiver went through my spine when the air conditioning hit me.

We walked around the aisles until we saw the sign hanging above us:

FEMININE HYGIENE

Abby walked in front of me into the aisle and we stopped at the pads/tampons section. Sure enough, pregnancy tests were sitting right next to them. And next to those, condoms.

Fucking hilarious.

"I don't know which one to get." I whisper to Abby, who had grabbed a box of Tampax tampons.

Her eyes scanned the racks up and down and her eyes widened.

"Damn, why are they so expensive? Twenty dollars for a pregnancy test?"

"Shh!" I shush her loud voice, my cheeks filling with heat. "I don't need the whole fucking store knowing I'm buying a test."

"Sorry." She pushed her lips together, as if trying to conceal the sound.

She squatted down on the floor and grabbed a pink and blue rectangular box that read Clearblue Digital Pregnancy Test on the front.

"Might as well go all out to get a clear result." She whispered when she stood back up.

I nod wordlessly, my throat suddenly drier than the desert. My hand vibrated vigorously as I took the box from her. She sensed the anxiety on my hand and rubbed my shoulder comfortingly.

We walked over to the register, where there was luckily no line and we placed out stuff on the counter. The lady, who looked like she was in her mid fifties with her graying hair and wrinkles forming around her lips, looked up at us with furrowed eyebrows.

"Are you paying separately?" She asks us, her eyes bouncing from me to Abby, then back to me.

"Yes, please." Abby answers for me and reaches into her back pocket for her wallet.

The lady rings up the tampons and Abby pays for them without a problem. After she hands Abby her bag, she rings up the pregnancy test, all while stealing glances at me.