Just a quick reminder that, chronologically, this chapter precedes chapter 3.19
I sat up on the side of the bed and leaned over to kiss Felix’s neck. We’d done…it for the first time a couple of weeks ago. Then, it had felt like stepping into wholly unknown territory, as if I was a virgin all over again (and, yeah, okay, technically I had been), but that had been nerves talking. Being with Felix was no different than a girl (well…).
Felix kissed me before getting up and finding his boxers. “My parents really aren’t going to let up on the whole meeting your parents thing.”
I groaned as I stood up. “I know.” I’d gone to Felix’s for dinner tonight, and, again, Mr. and Mrs. Mann had asked about when we could all get together with my parents.
The German rolled his eyes. “What is it, Logan? Are you embarrassed or something? I thought you were fine with this.”
“What? No! No, I mean, I am fine with it.” I sighed softly. “I know, it needs to happen.” I knew it was just nerves stopping me. In my head, I knew it was just like the sex; it wasn’t actually a big deal. I was just…nervous. “My parents don’t give a shit who I’m into. I’m just being an asshole. I’ll talk to them tomorrow, okay? We’ll have you over, and then they can meet your parents.”
Felix grinned and pulled me in for a kiss.
I took Felix’s hand as we walked up the path to the house. I’d never really formally introduced anyone to Mom or Dad; they’d met Zoe at one of my games, and, before her, I’d never been serious about anyone. I knew I was making a mountain out of a molehill—that was why I’d finally nutted up and arranged this—but knowing that did nothing to quell the butterflies in my gut.
“This is some house.”
I looked up at the Tudor-style façade. “It’s nice, yeah. Nothing like the house we had in Oasis Springs.” It had taken quite a while to get used to the change; occasionally, I still got a little jolt of homesickness for the old place. Had to admit, though, that I didn’t so much miss the desert heat.
Nerves almost forgotten after Felix’s welcome distraction, I smiled as I let us inside, the barking of the two goldens and their claws skittering on the hardwood as they ran—or Sorbet ran and Giblet followed sedately—into the foyer heralding our entrance.
I leaned down to rub Sorbet’s ears, trying to still her from jumping. “You know you can’t jump up.” More slowly, Giblet joined us, giving me a few licks and curiously sniffing Felix. Sorbet, meanwhile, completely ignored what I said and bounced around, barking all the while.
Mom came out of the kitchen, laughing. “Sorbet! That’s it—outside!” She herded the younger dog outside to calm down. She returned to the two of us with a smile. “We’re still working on her training.”
“Oh, it’s alright, I really don’t mind,” Felix said.
“Well, at least now we can hear each other. I’m Logan’s mom, Loralee. It’s really nice to finally meet you, Felix.”
“You too, Mrs. Smithson.”
“Ms. Thoreau, actually, but really, just Loralee is fine. Dinner’ll be ready in a few.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I pulled Felix into the living room and introduced him to my father and Tomlyn. Jasper was AWOL, probably upstairs on his computer.
Dad leaned forward, smiling. Back in his usual spot beside him on the couch, Giblet wagged his tail. “Hey, Felix. It’s about time. I was beginning to think Logan was making you up.”
I huffed softly. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
Felix’s eyes twinkled. “But, he is making me up. This isn’t real.”
“Ha!” Dad snorted. “So, I hear your parents are anthropologists…”
A short while later, Mom called us to the table, even dragging Jaz downstairs. Everything was going well—and why shouldn’t it? What had I been so anxious about? Why did I, for some reason, still have a little pit in the bottom of my stomach?
Halfway through the meal, my phone started to ring.
Mom gave me a stern look. “You know there’s no phones at the table.”
“I know, sorry; I forgot to mute it.” I pulled the phone out and muted the call without checking the caller ID. A moment later, it buzzed in my pocket.
Surreptitiously, I pulled it out and opened it. Why was Zoe texting me? My brow furrowed into a frown as I read the message.
The pit in my stomach grew.
Not even a minute later, her response came.
A feeling of looming dread settled over me.
The next day, I walked up to the café and found Zoe waiting for me outside. The tension in her shoulders and the set of her expression did nothing to help the twisting anxiety in my gut.
Oh, God, please.
I tried to keep a neutral expression on my face as I approached her. “Hey, Zoe, what’s up?”
She looked up at me. Her eyes seemed puffy. “I need to talk to you.”
Had anything good ever come from that sentence?
“Do you want to go inside and sit down?”
She shook her head and suddenly looked on the verge of tears. “I was inside but they started making bacon for their sandwiches and…I can’t handle it. The smell…it makes me nauseous.”
I started feeling light headed. My ears rang. Surely this couldn’t be going where it seemed to be. It was a cruel joke because I’d broken her heart. It had to be. I’d been so careful. We’d only had one accident, one broken condom; I’d done what I was supposed to, given her money for Plan B. She couldn’t be—
“Logan, I’m pregnant.”
Ya’ll. This was SO NOT PLANNED. I just turned on the chance for teen pregnancy out of fairness; if there was a risky percent chance for my adult’s getting knocked up, it was only right that the teens have it, too. Zoe wasn’t supposed to actually get pregnant.
*shakes fist at risky woohoo*
Stay tuned to see how this plays out. 😉