CINDY
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"I-I know, okay? But listen—"
"'Listen'? Alexa, I trusted you. And you don't get to call me, asking to "talk" because I can probably guess what you want to talk about, and—frankly—I don't give a fuck."
I probably shouldn't talk to her like this no matter how mad I am. She could be recording or have someone listening, she could send this call to someone and me and my boyfriend could be on the front of a magazine tomorrow because of this.
Whatever I say to her, though, it isn't uncalled for. It's deserved on an otherworldly level, and I don't care if this becomes some insane story people are going to be debating for weeks. I want to call her all kinds of things, tell her how—
"Cindy, please! I'm not going to apologize or ask to be friends again, because I already know what you'd say to that. But I overheard Chris saying something last night and I think you should probably know about it. So, can you please not hang up on me? Let me say this one thing."
When I don't say anything else, she continues with, "When me and you were hanging out a little more, I gave him your number just in case he couldn't reach me. Not with any malicious intent, but he's always been really toxic and possessive, and I didn't want him to flip out on me if he couldn't reach me for some reason. Anyway, last night... I was out with Phoebe and some of the girls, and Chris was there. He was super drunk rambling on about who knows what, and Phoebe overheard him saying shit about me. So, we went up to him to confront him and he was rambling on about how you and Levin 'deserved worse than what he did.' He said that you guys ruined his life—which is a stretch, if you ask me. But I know that a lot of your guys' information got out, and I know I would want to know why or how or who, so..."
"You think is was Christopher?"
"I would be surprised if it wasn't."
Neither of us say a thing for a moment and right as my finger is hovering over the red button on my screen, she says, "I really am sorry, Cindy."
Then, I hang up.
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It's been about an hour since Alexa called me, and I know I should call Levin to tell him about it, but I don't want him to stress anymore than he already has been these past few days. So, I decide I'll tell him later.
I message my mom that I'm heading over to her house because, even though I don't want to tell Levin right now, I do want to tell someone. And I'm not going to make the same mistake I made with Alexa. If I made things worse by telling someone something that isn't really anyone else's business, I'd feel horrible.
He hasn't fully expressed to me how much this is bothering him, but I know my guy. Levin's hating this about ten times as much as I am. The idea of adding even the smallest thing to his plate makes me nauseous.
And it's not like he's home anyway. I can tell him tonight before bed or even as soon as he does get here. I'm not sure. I haven't been sure about anything in what feels like forever.
God, this is all so stupid. I just wish there was someone who could tell me exactly what to do in these types of situations. It was never this bad with Tommy's job.
I shake out my hands and then pop my fingers.
All I need to focus on right now is getting this new information to my mom. Everything else can wait. Getting this off my chest will fix everything. At least for a moment.
My stomach churns and bile rises in my throat. I make a sour face just as I pass the kitchen, catching Eliza's attention.
Levin's mom calls my name and I turn to look at her.
I almost keep walking. I don't want to face her. Moms always know when something's wrong, and if she asks me if I'm okay, I might actually implode. Or worse, cry.
"Cindy!"
"Oh, hi." I mumble, my voice distant to even my own ears. "I didn't see you. Sorry."
I've been fine all morning, but suddenly I feel terrible. Like maybe I might pass out or something. I can't decide if I'm hot or if I'm cold, my hands are limp and numb at my sides. My whole body feels like static.
"Are you alright, honey? You don't look so good."
"I'll be okay. I'm on my way to my mom's house, I don't have time to..." I trail off feeling breathless. "Oh my God."
My first thought is that I'm going into labor, but that wouldn't make any sense. I don't have contractions and my water hasn't broken. So, what is it? It could be the anxiety and stress of all this catching up to me?
No... I've been fine. Mostly. I need water or something to eat. Then I'll be okay.
Levin's mom rushes over to my side, her hand on the small of my back.
"Come sit. Let me get you some water."
"No, I have to go. This is important."
"Then, let me drive you, Cindy. You shouldn't be driving if you're not feeling well." She rubs her hand in cirlces on my lower back before stepping away. "Give me one second. I'm going to grab my bag."
Before I can object, she dissapears down the hall. And it would be so rude to just leave, so I wait for her in the entry way. I don't want to, but something deeper than mere manners tells me to stay put.
I'm just about to start my downward spiral into overthinking (or into the wooden tiles beneath my feet) when my phone rings in my bag. My eyes roll all by themselves as I pull it out. And it's Levin, so duh I start grinning like a lunatic... then I remember I have this big thing to bring up to him, and it ruins the mood. And it reminds me my body is wrong and that something coul be wrong with the baby and—
I answer and hope that little panicky voice in my head stops feeding my anxiety and my sudden illness.
"What."
"What the fuck."
I say again, frowing. "What?"
"Stop that! Why are you talking to me like I'm your friend or something. Say 'Hey, babe! I was just thinking about you! I miss you! I love you!'"
"Hey, babe! I was just thinking about you. Miss you, love you, blah, blah—" I can't help but start laughing a little. "I'm always thinking about you. And I do love you."
"So, you love me, but you don't miss me?"
"Oh, shut up. What do you need?"
"You." I don't say anything because ew. "Okay, fine." He groans dramatically. "Um, I need you to check something for me."
He has me go to the room and read to him something he wrote on a sticky note, and for those first five minutes on the phone, I'm a little less closer to what seems like death.
"Good?" I ask.
"Good. Thank you, my love."
"Welcome."
Neither of us says anything or a moment, and then I hear him tell whoever he's with to give him a moment. I think I hear a door shutting.
When he speaks again, it's softer. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah."
I hear the smile in his voice when he tells me to try to sound like I actually mean that.
"I just... Nothing. I don't want to ruin your day, Lev."
"Not possible. Tell me. Let me help you."
"I... Alexa called me."
"Oh."
"'Oh' is correct." I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. This is all so fucking stressful. "She said that Christopher was the one who leaked everything, that she overheard him saying that we 'desevered worse than what he did.'"
"So, it's not for sure?"
"No, but it makes sense."
"It does—God, what a fucking little princess."
"Right? And there's so much more I need to talk to you about, but I'll wait until I see you."
"I have time for you right now, babe."
"No, that's okay. I'm going to my parents' house."
"All right then. I love you, Cin. Call me if anything, okay?"
"I will. I love you more."
"Bye."
"Bye-bye. Be safe."
We hang up, and... huh! Funny that. My day sucks a little less now.
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The drive to my parents' place was a lot quieter than I'd have liked. Eliza kept up a one-sided conversation for as long as she could, which I sort of appreciated. A part of me worried she might have thought I was being disrespectful, but she knows I'm not well. I think she understands where this little quiet game is coming from.
Before Mom greets me, she gasps loudly and steps around me to hug Levin's mom. I'd texted her in the car ride over that I was bringing her, and she sent me a whole string of emojis to express her excitement. She even put a little brown bald man in there. But I think that one was an accident?
They're ecstatically exchanging information and talking about old lady stuff (even though they're really not that old at all) as we enter the living room to sit down.
Their conversation might as well be taking place in another room with the way my brain isn't making out a single word coming out of either of their mouths.
Dad comes in to greet me, kissing my head once as he rubs my shoulders as the women talk about... Christmas? I'm not sure.
"You okay, baby?" He asks me, snapping me out of whatever spell I'm under.
Usually, my answer is always yes, but I shake my head once. He frowns, taking a seat next to me and grabbing the attention of Mom and Eliza.
He's always been able to tell when something's off with me, even when I don't even notice. But this is one of those times where I have noticed, and it's bugging me that I can't find the words to describe this nasty feeling. Everything just feels off. I don't know how else to put it, if there even is a way of putting it.
I can't pretend nothing's wrong this time because now I have all three of them looking att me, and on top of that, another somebody to worry about. What if it's something wrong with me that effects the baby? If something bad happened to my boy because I didn't want to be a bother, I'd never forgive myself.
"What's wrong?"
"Something," I say absently. "I don't know."
Mom frowns, standing up to come see if I'm warm. "Have you eaten?"
I can only nod. Something's wrong. Something is very wrong.
In this moment, I feel it more than I've been feeling it all day. Everything seems to slow down. The furniture goes out of focus right along with the faces of these people I love, and a deep panic settles in my tummy. I want to speak or move or do anything, but...
"Are you gonna be sick?"
"Let me get you some water, honey."
I am so so tired.
"Do you want to lie down?"
"Here, put your feet up."
"Cindy...Drink..."
"...Cindy?"
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AUTHOR'S NOTE
unedited
This chapter is a little short but OH MY GOD??? SHE UPDATED?!?!?!?!?