Bleurgh I never get sick. Why am I being sick? I can't have gotten food poisoning. Why won't this stomach bug pass already? Bleurgh
"Honey, do you want a glass of water? Or some dry crackers maybe?" There was my mother, the eternal hovering presence. Bleurgh All this heaving and throwing up was making me get a headache, and the last thing on my mind was food. I'd been sick for about a week now, and despite mum's best efforts, I still refused to go to the doctor's. I hate the doctor's.
"No, thanks mum. I just need to brush my teeth and get some air," I replied, rinsing my mouth with some of the water I already had, before squeezing the smallest amount of toothpaste possible onto my brush. I managed to run it round my teeth quickly without gagging, before heading outside. I knew that I looked a mess, but frankly I didn't care by this point. The fresh, but chilly air of early december bit into me, through my thin pyjamas and dressing gown. Being ill, I'd lost even more weight than I'd been trying to, which was a little worrying. By the time I was able to go back into school I'd have to wear a belt on everything.
A week later, I was finally allowed back in school, on the provision that I could run out of class if I was still sick. There were a lot of times when I needed to run out, but I couldn’t admit I was still that sick without being sent home from school. My friends knew I was still ill, every time I ran out at break or lunch, but that was it.
It wasn’t until I bumped into my ex, Chris, that I started getting nervous. See, the thing was, we’d been together for a couple of years, and we’d had sex, just like any other couple. The last time before we broke up though, we’d been drunk at a party. He kept joking when we met up that I’d been knocked up. That wouldn’t have gotten to me; if not for the way he kept saying it was morning sickness. I’m not naïve enough to think that you only get that in the mornings; I know that it’s an all-day thing.
After school I headed over to the pharmacy, more out of pressure from my friends than because I really wanted to. I walked in, and hunted around for the home pregnancy tests, found one, and took it up to the counter, feeling like I was a criminal about to be caught. The guy behind the counter, dorky looking, seemed kind of awkward about it, but I just kept my head down and didn’t say a word. I shoved it into my bag, and got the hell out of there as quickly as possible. There was no way I could do it at home, so I went to the nearest loos, and followed the little instructions. I read through the little slip of paper over and over again, making sure I knew it.
The wait went on and on; time does that though, goes more slowly when there is some reason why you want it to hurry up. Finally the two little blue lines cleared, and there was my answer. I was pregnant. Somewhere in the fine print of the pamphlet there had been a line about possible false positives, so I held onto that hope. I text my friends, telling them that I was fine, nothing to worry about. Those lines blue lines told otherwise, but I couldn’t accept just those two little lines.