Always Ever After (Always 2.50) - Page 7

“Actually, yes,” she says. “I’m still nervous, but this is better.”

We’re supposed to wait three minutes, so we sit in silence, both of us staring at the clocks on our phone screens.

“Okay, I think mine should be ready,” she says, but she doesn’t get up.

I squeeze her again. “Babe, you’re so nervous. I’ll go get it and tell you what it says.”

She nods. I go into the bathroom and get her test off the counter. I grab the box, so I can compare what the results mean. There’s one blue line in the test window, and according to the box, that means not pregnant.

I come out of the bathroom and smile. “Negative. You’re not pregnant.”

She puts a hand to her mouth and closes her eyes. I bring the test over and set it on the nightstand, in case she wants to see it.

“Are you okay?” I sit and put my arm around her again.

She takes a shuddering breath. “I don’t know why I’m upset. I should be relieved. But … I’m kind of disappointed.”

“Aw,” I say, and rub her back. “That’s totally understandable. You’ve probably been working yourself up to it all day.”

“Yeah.” She sniffs. “Okay, go get yours.”

I laugh. “Well, I know mine is negative, but I’ll grab it, I guess.”

I go back into the bathroom and pick up my test off the back of the toilet. I glance at it, and something catches my eye. It doesn’t look the same as Selene’s. I look again, and grab the box, holding up the panel with the instructions.

Wait, did I have that wrong? Does two lines mean negative and one means positive? Because mine has two lines, and Selene’s only had one. Didn’t it?

“Selene, I’m confused.” I come out of the bathroom, my test in one hand and the box in the other. I toss her the box. “What does this mean? Did I read them wrong?”

She catches it and looks at the instructions. “One line is negative. Why, does mine have two, and you thought that meant negative?” She grabs her test and compares it to the picture on the box. “No, it says here one line means negative, and mine definitely has just one line.” She meets my eyes. “Wait. What does yours look like?”

I stare at her, my eyes bugging out of my head, my heart racing a million miles a second. I swallow hard and look at the test dangling from my fingers. The test window is a little rectangle in the middle of the strip of plastic, and staring back at me are two very dark, solid blue lines. I turn it so Selene can see.

“Holy shit, Kylie,” Selene says, her voice quiet. “I think you’re pregnant.”