Knock-knock.
I just looked at the door, my thoughts still in turmoil.
Knock-knock-knock.
Yeah, door, you're right. I just got knocked up. Soon, people would start calling me messed up, fucked up, knocked up Sophie. Not a good way to describe someone, but it has a nice ring to it.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK.
"Hey, Sophie! Are you planning to live in there? If so, just tell me so I could move out my toiletries and you could move in your clothes. Do you also want to put your bed inside? Or do you want a bathtub to sleep in? You know, like in Kyle XY. We could-"
I opened the door and stood facing Bianca, my roommate and bestfriend. I could feel the weight of the four pregnancy test strips on my pocket even though they weren't heavy at all. I don't know why I couldn't tell her that I'm pregnant. She has been my bestfriend since we were four and I've told her every bit about myself, no matter how embarrassing or depressing they might be. Why not this one?
Because I have to tell Dave first. Yeah, I could fill Bianca in later.
She looked at me from head to toe and nodded knowingly. "That time of the month, huh?" she said.
I winced. Yeah, I wish, I mumbled to myself. If I'm really pregnant, which I most probably am, I wouldn't have that time of the month for nine months. At least, that's one faint ray of sunshine on my bleak and cloudy day.
"Nah, just constipated," I managed to croak.
Bianca wrinkled her nose in mock disgust, but soon made a face of genuine concern. "Are you sure?" she asked, sounding like the older sister I never had. Her large brown eyes searched my face for untold answers, and I felt myself slowly breaking apart. Again.
I let out a sob.
"Do you know how it feels, B? When you can't get something out and it totally hurts?" I couldn't fight back my tears anymore, and they streamed down my cheeks. "That's how I feel right now. I don't know what to do, B. I'm effing constipated!"
With that, I stormed past Bianca and out of the room, leaving her wide-eyed in shock.
Standing in front of our dormitory, I patted my pockets for a cigarette to calm my nerves. But I felt the PT strips against my thigh and I realized I couldn't smoke anymore, for the sake of my baby.
My baby. Well, technically, it's not a baby yet. It's just a bunch of cells growing inside my womb. But I sounded like a heartless bitch so I mentally shook my head, absentmindedly placing a hand on my stomach.
I stood there for some time, dazed and glassy-eyed, only half-aware of the looks the passers-by were giving me. Yeah, I know I look like a freaking imbecile right now, with my disheveled hair and tearstained clothes. But believe me, when you found out something that could change your life in a really bad way, looking gorgeous would seem like a very mundane thing.
Wow, I think this was the first time that I didn't care about my looks. I was often called the nerd fashionista, but right now, I'm just a plain old nerd. Ugh.
Finally, I flagged down a cab and hopped on the backseat, telling the driver Dave's address and to step on it. The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror, and with a look (scared? surprised?), he sped away.
It's getting darker now, and soon the city was filled with bright lights and blinking neon signs. It was a perfect ridicule to what I was feeling – dull, dark, and dead. In just a matter of hours, I felt like my world has turned upside down, and I wondered, would things ever get back to normal?
