Page 11 of Hash

I shake my head.

“Why the hell not?” Frankie asks like I’m insane.

“I’m scared of what it’s going to say. What if it’s positive? It’s not like I’ve talked to the man since that night.”

“No other symptoms?”

“Not really. I feel more tired than usual, but I also haven’t been sleeping that well.”

The bell on the front door chimes just as Frankie opens her mouth. “That’s your client. My next one canceled. I’m going to get you a test, and you’re taking it after you’re done waxing that vag.”

“I’ll be right with you, Heather!” I yell loud enough for her to hear me out front before hissing, “I can’t take a test here. Are you crazy?”

“Why not? It’s just us. Don’t make me steal your pee.”

What the fuck?

“How would you steal my — you know what? Never mind. I can’t deal with this right now,” I say before quickly walking out front. I like the solution that if I don’t think about it, then it’s not happening. It’s a stupid way of thinking, but right now it’s the only thing keeping me from completely losing my shit.

As soon as Heather walks out of the salon and the front door shuts behind her, Frankie is up in my face, shoving a plastic bag from the drugstore down the street in my face.

“It’s pee time.”

“Frankie, really,” I try to plead. I really don’t want to do this here. I knew I shouldn’t have brought it up.

“It will give you peace of mind. Trust me.”

Or an anxiety attack.

“Aren’t you supposed to do it first thing in the morning?”

“Yes, but I know you, and you’re stalling. I didn’t make a little bitch with no balls my best friend.”

God damn it.

“Fine,” I snap, ripping the bag out of her hands and storming off to the bathroom.

I quickly do my thing and set the stick on the sink, not wanting to hold something I just peed on as I lean up against the opposite wall and wait.

My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I watch the timer on my phone.

Is this what it feels like to have a heart attack?

I rub my palm against my chest, trying to ease the ache.

The timer on my phone dings, but I’m stuck in place, unable to turn it off.

“I can hear it! Stop being a little bitch and turn it off and check the stick!” Frankie yells through the door.

“Okay,” I tell myself as I take a deep breath. “I can do this.”

I hit the stop on the timer as I take the few steps to the sink.

“Please be negative, please be negative,” I chant as I pick up the stick and look at the little window reading the words.

Pregnant.

My body reacts instantly, vomiting up everything I ate for lunch.