Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Color has returned to her fair cheeks, which might just be blush, granted. She brushed mascara on her lashes and even did a smoky eye.
“Do you have any family history of insomnia?” Dr. Kent asks Hails. She was nice enough to let us stay in the same room together.
“Not that I know of. I was in foster care.”
My lungs inflate. I love that she can offer this info and feel that it’s true. Especially at Victoria Internal Medicine. Going somewhere local cements the notion that we’re remaining here.
We’re staying and choosing to weather the Varrick storm. Whatever that may be.
Running away isn’t in me anymore, and I think for my brothers and Rocky’s siblings, the idea of planting roots together has taken hold, too. Finding out your parents weren’t completely honest with you can make for Gorilla Glue bonding.
And we were already pretty tight to begin with.
Dr. Kent scribbles on her notepad while seated on a stool. “Are you taking any medicine to help you sleep?”
“No.”
“How’s your caffeine intake?”
“I might have a couple cups of coffee a day. It’s not a ton.”
More jotting. “Have you found that anything helps you sleep now?”
“Uh…sex. I sometimes have sex to the point where everything shuts off and I can fall asleep.”
I did not know this, and maybe I shouldn’t know, because now I’m wondering if it’s Jake or Oliver who rocks her world to sleep. Dr. Kent takes a note, not criticizing Hailey’s sleep tactic.
She asks a few more questions, then says she’ll be back with our blood-work results.
“Do you think you’ll reconcile with them?” Hailey asks me, chains on her black cargo pants jingling as she shifts a little. “Our moms?”
I stare down at my strawberry sundress and my strappy pink heels. Those are so cute on you, bug. I thought about Elizabeth…my mom, this morning when I chose the outfit.
My heart pangs. “Maybe…I’m not as angry anymore. I guess…I get why they did what they did. But maybe it’s more than that.” I hold her gaze. “I would’ve never known Rocky. I would’ve never had you as my best friend. If it weren’t for them. And I love you both more than humanly comprehensible—it’s impossible to hold that kind of anger in my heart when you two fill it.”
Hailey rests her temple on my shoulder. “I know exactly what you mean.” I wonder if she’s also thinking of Trevor.
It reminds me of Easter weekend, and I thumb the scab on my palm where Claudia burned me. All for nothing. That riles me a little…a lot, if I’m being super honest. The rope was never really pulled. There was never a high of triumph.
I don’t take pleasure in Claudia’s death.
The amount of crocodile tears at the country club could sail a fleet of Viking ships. The lack of Jake’s mom doesn’t resolve things. It complicates them.
Five more minutes pass. We get bored and start meandering around the room. I flip through a Celebrity Crush tabloid left on top of a Health magazine. Then Hailey blasts music from her phone. I recognize the old Avril Lavigne song from our youth.
We exchange a giddy grin before we burst out scream-singing the angsty lyrics, jumping up and down like we’re in a concert pit. I grab her hands as we bounce, and then we spin in a circle at high speed.
Which is how Dr. Kent finds us.
We slow to a halt, crashing into each other, and the music hits a little different seeing Dr. Kent’s flattened lips and serious eyes.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She motions to the hospital bed, and Hailey and I reclaim our seats side by side, paper crunching under us. The noise adds to the tension and makes my heart pound.
“Hailey, I’m going to prescribe you some medication for your insomnia and refer you to a psychiatrist.”
She nods nervously.
Dr. Kent flips through papers on our charts. “Good news. You’re both negative for all STDs and STIs.”
Okay, great, not that either of us thought we had an issue with one. “That’s positive—well, it’s negative,” I say, “but you know what I mean.” I laugh unsteadily. Why am I so anxious? It’s her face. Something is clearly wrong.
She offers me a pity smile.
Lovely.
“I realize you didn’t come in here for this, so it might come as a shock.” I can’t tell who she’s talking to. Her attention descends to her charts. “It looks like you’re pregnant.”
I choke on air. “Excuse me?”
“No, no,” Hailey says adamantly. “I’ve always worn condoms.”
“Same.” I don’t mention the times Rocky has pulled out and come on me.
“Oh, sorry…” Dr. Kent is flustered, embarrassed as she switches charts. “It looks like only one of you is pregnant. And condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective in preventing pregnancy.”
I shake out the unhelpful fact floating in my face. “Um, ma’am, Dr. Kent, which one of us is pregnant?” I sound hostile. Is that a pregnancy symptom? Irritability—because I am feeling really fucking irritable right now!