Forced to have the Player's Kid (Book One of The Great Age Plague Series)

Chapter Thirty-Five

"This day could literally not get any worse," I muttered to Josh while leaning out of the car, my hair pulled back in a pony tail. A few miles from home, the afternoon sun was already setting as a cool breeze came off the ocean, wafting up the scent of my own vomit. On our way home from a terrible day at school, including my new friend kissing me without my permission, I was hit with a wave of nausea that I couldn't just "hold in" like Josh suggested as he drove me home. No, here I was, vomiting my guts out on the side of the road because of the stupid baby growing inside me, without my permission I might add.

Wiping my mouth, I breathed in deeply through my nose, taking in the smell of vinegar mixed with sea salt wafting off the ocean. When my stomach didn't roll in protest like the waves of the ocean in front of me, I undid the pony tail and slid back into the Mini Cooper. Upon shutting the door, I was greeted with the scent of pumpkin-apple spice air freshener which Josh let me pick out special for our shared vehicle, which was a relief after the horrible smell of my own half-digested lunch. Josh shot me a sympathetic look as he shifted the car back into drive and sped toward home.

"So, ultrasound today, right?" asked Josh as we pulled up to his mansion. I nodded while guzzling down a Fiji water, trying to wash down the lingering taste of bile in my mouth. Shooting me a pearly smile, Josh leaned over and pecked me on the cheek, causing me to choke up water all over myself before he playfully bolted toward the house before I could speak. I watched the front door slam from the passengers seat of the Mini Cooper, all the while covered in my own spit-up water. Still, I couldn't ignore that smile that was already forming on my face, all from that small cheek-kiss.

"Josh!" I yelled, as I entered the house, backpack slung over my shoulder. Almost cartoon-like, Josh's head popped up from the hallway, and to my delight he still had that wonderful smile on his face.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself 'Dira," he said. Before I could respond, he emerged from the hallway, holding a duffel bag. I cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking. It's too early to have a birth-day bag, right? Well that's not what this is," said Josh as he opened the duffel bag. Inside, there was a sweater, some Cliff bars, as well as a Polaroid camera, and a large, light blue book entitled "Baby."

"I thought maybe this would be good to take to all the doctor's visits. I creeped on your Pinterest the other day and got the idea," Josh said. I looked up from the bag and saw that he had turned bright red, making me chuckle.

"Wow, thank you Josh," I said, taking the bag "That was really considerate. I love it. But wait, why is the baby book blue?" At this, Josh walked up and placed a hand on the tiny bump on my stomach.

"Because, I'm betting on a boy. Josh junior, am I right?" said Josh. He gave a silly eyebrow waggle, causing me to burst into laughter. To my shock, I was suddenly hit with a wave of guilt, feeling an almost physical pressure on my shoulders and my stomach. I tried to brush it off, tried not to think about it as I followed Josh to the living room, but it was there. In short, I felt like shit for being happy. How could I be happy with my mother gone?

"Hey, what's wrong?" asked Josh. He turned on the television like our usual after school routine, but looked over to me with concern. I shrugged my shoulders, to which he lowered his chin and trained his eyes on me, an almost parental look of concern. Sighing, I grabbed a nearby cashmere blanket as Fitzy leapt onto the couch, snuggling up before looking at Josh again, whose eyes were still on me. I looked down, picking at the blanket fuzzies.

"Adira..." said Josh in a warning tone.

"Okay," I said. My shoulders sagged as I acquiesced. "I miss my mother. And I feel.... Guilty, I guess, for being excited about the ultrasound. She always dreamed of seeing this, even more than my father. And that's the other thing, this isn't like mourning my father, it's so, so different. I feel bad about that too, because I didn't love her more than my father, so I don't know why this is different. I just... I don't know, I just have too many emotions and the little baby growing inside me isn't making it easier because it's like eternal PMS." The words spilled out with about as much control as the vomit I was chocking up earlier. When I was done, I regretted revealing so much, adding a twisting  tornado of anxiety in my belly in addition to the slew of other emotions. For a grueling moment, Josh sat silently, his eyes trained on me like he was studying a science experiment; yet, he wasn't cold or calculating, but rather a scientist attached to his project. It was like Josh was watching the stars.