Chapter 7
1285 Words
I had never been this horn-mad early in the morning.
Good thing it was Friday. Just one more day until the weekend—a brief escape from the chaos of the week.
A time to relax. Unwind. Breathe.
Ugh.
Then I remembered.
That effin' place I'm living in right now.
That effin' Tom I'm living with.
This whole effin' situation I got myself into.
How am I supposed to have a peaceful weekend with all that looming over me?
Uuuuugh. My head is starting to hurt.
But that wasn’t the reason why I was pissed off this morning. No, the source of my growing irritation had a name—Jennifer.
Here I was, strolling through the hallway, greeting my friends as I went, when Miss Prima Donna herself sauntered toward me.
She made a show of flipping her long, straight, rebonded brunette hair, batting her mascara-coated lashes, and stretching her pink lips into a wide, saccharine smile.
At me.
That was unexpected.
I ignored her and kept walking, but of course, she just had to holler my name across the hallway, drawing unnecessary attention.
What does this biatch need?
She cat-walked toward me, still wearing that fraudulent grin. I hated that smile. Oh, how I wanted to rip it off her Barbie-like face.
"I just wanted to let you know there's going to be a party at Cameron’s house tonight," she said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "I personally don’t want you there, but my hubby does." She rolled her eyes and planted a hand on her hip.
I smirked. "Why?"
"Don’t know, don’t care," she muttered under her breath, before lifting her perfectly manicured fingers to admire her fresh polish. Then she looked back at me, that phony grin still plastered on her lips. "I really hope you’ll come... But not really."
And with that, she turned and sashayed away, leaving me seething.
By the time I got to class, I needed to vent. Telling Liz about what had happened helped relieve some of the steam. She wasn’t keen on going to the party either, but as soon as Wesley heard about it, he practically jumped out of his seat.
That doofus really loves to party. According to him, it's the perfect place to go fishing.
And just like that, Liz and I were roped into going. Because we loved him, and he was impossible to say no to. Besides, parties at Cameron’s were always fun. His rock band always performed, and his cousin, a freelance college DJ, provided the perfect soundtrack for a wild night.
Even if it was bound to be... awkward.
After class, my classmates rushed out, eager to prepare for the party. Me? I had no ounce of enthusiasm.
I stopped by the SC office, grabbed some shawarma from a diner on the way home, then trudged back to the apartment. The moment I stepped inside, I collapsed onto the sofa, propping my feet up on the mini table. Before I could get too comfortable, I decided to call my parents.
They seemed fine, though I could tell Mom was emotionally exhausted. We talked for about thirty minutes before I had to cut the conversation short. Wes and Liz were coming over soon, and I needed to start getting ready.
After a quick shower, I rummaged through my closet for something to wear. I paused as I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror.
I inched closer, my gaze dropping to my stomach. My fingers ghosted over the soft skin just below my belly button. I let out a deep sigh, an image of my tummy growing rounder flashing through my mind.
"Going out?"
I flinched at the voice behind me. Turning, I saw Tom leaning lazily against the doorway, a junior bottle of rum in his hand.
He was shirtless.
My face flushed.
Without thinking, I grabbed my furry bunny slipper and hurled it at him. It smacked him square in the face, nearly making him drop his bottle.
He snorted with laughter, tossed the slipper back, hitting me in the back, then took another sip of rum.
"You act like a virgin," he teased, stepping inside. He plopped down on the bed, careful not to spill his drink.
My cheeks burned. "Get out!" I screeched, pointing at the door.
What a douchebag! Does he not see I'm still in my towel?!
"What are you embarrassed about? If I got you pregnant, that means we’ve had s*x already," he mused, tilting the bottle to his lips again. "Shame I don’t remember it... or how it felt."
My ears burned so hot, they probably turned crimson.
"Seriously. Get out."
I couldn’t stand the smell of liquor swirling around the room. Thankfully, he listened.
After he left, I threw on my favorite blue peek-a-boo crop top, which had tiny gray skull prints all over, paired it with denim shorts, and slipped on my hi-cut sneakers. I tied my hair up in a bun and stepped out of the bedroom.
Tom was still on the sofa, balancing his bottle on his knee. As I walked past, he turned and whistled.
"Can’t believe you're wearing a crop top. I thought you were pregnant." He hiccupped.
He was right. What the hell was I thinking? My hand instinctively went to my stomach, rubbing the exposed skin beneath my top hem.
But just this once, I needed to look good. I had to make Cameron drool. I had to make him regret leaving me with that garbage, Jennifer.
Besides, nothing bad was going to happen tonight. My baby will be fine.
"You’re going to that party, huh?" Tom’s voice was hoarse now.
I nodded confidently. "What about you?"
"Meh." He shrugged. "Parties ain’t my thing."
"Well, looks like you already had a little party of your own and didn’t even invite me," I shot back. His expression darkened. In a flash, he was in front of me, closing the distance between us. I could smell the liquor on him—strong, bitter, suffocating.
Sheesh. How much did this guy drink?
"You better not be drinking," he muttered, his hand lowering to my stomach.
Out of instinct, I stepped back. He blinked, momentarily surprised, then carefully pressed the inside of his wrist to my belly again.
He sank to his knees, resting his cheek against my stomach. "If Mommy starts drinking, you karate kick your way out of there, okay, lil’ sport?" he whispered.
I couldn’t help but snicker. He actually looked... cute.
A knock at the door interrupted the moment. Tom stood up and headed to the kitchen as Wesley and Liz walked in. Liz took one look around the room while Wesley stood behind her, visibly trembling.
"Uhh, what are you doing, Wes?" I asked.
"This is King Tom’s house. I’m hiding. Oh, and Sam—you look hot... for someone pregnant." he exasperated. I giggled.
"Where is he?" Liz asked.
"Who?"
"Tom."
I gestured toward the kitchen. They told me he’d been invited too, but I assured them he was too drunk to care. Besides, if people saw us arriving together, rumors would spread. Especially with Jennifer around.
We headed to Cameron’s house. The party was in full swing—his band had just finished a set, and the DJ was spinning a Chainsmokers track. Wes, ever the goofball, immediately started dancing. As I laughed at his antics, my body went rigid.
Cameron was nearby.
He saw me.
He smiled at me.
I wanted to look away. I couldn’t.
I watched as he stepped closer, my heartbeat thudding in my ears.
Then he stood right in front of me.
I wanted to slap him.
So I did.
- Writer
