My Shallow Regret, Chapter 7 - Revelation free porn video

"C'mon, just pick up the damn phone." No luck. I'd been calling Monica every waking hour on the hour since yesterday afternoon, but she hadn't answered once. I finally stopped leaving voicemails after the fourth or fifth call. I wasn't even sure why I was still trying to get through to her, or what I'd even say if she answered. We were supposed to go see the fireworks together last night, but she didn't show up, and I ended up leaving after about 20 minutes so I could continue trying to call her from a place where I'd actually be able to hear her if she picked up. Meanwhile, I'd been dodging calls from Bryce all morning. I was guessing from the frantic tone in his voice in his first voicemail that Monica had pieced everything together - not exactly a stretch considering I'd handed most of it to her on an angry silver platter. Dealing with everyone else in my life had been an exercise in awkwardness. Mark and I didn't even say a word to each other as he walked me out of the mall. He texted me a few hours later asking, "u alright?" and all I could muster in response was "yup." Things weren't much better at home. I mean, yes, everything was still a huge improvement on my previously life, but my mom and sister could both tell I was on edge. My mom at least chalked it up to the pregnancy news - which she almost let slip to the rest of the family twice at dinner - but my sister, not knowing anything about that, assumed it had something to do with the night Mark had spent in my bed - which the rest of family still knew nothing about. Basically what it boiled down to is I said all of about three words at dinner, which was completely unlike Alana at all and had everyone worried for me, which is exactly the kind of attention I didn't want to draw to myself until I had things more figured out. And I wasn't anywhere close to figuring anything out. I had at least taken the step to back up Alana's hard drive in case I did want to try another magic software reboot, but the whole concept of that just seemed more and more absurd to me. As I lay awake in bed last night, struggling to fall asleep with thoughts swirling in my head, I couldn't help but think that the most likely scenario was that I'd suffered some kind of massive mental break due to all the stress in my life - that I'd been trying to avoid a mental institution, when in reality that's exactly where I needed to be. I was in a dark place. I looked like it too. I was wearing black from head to toe - a D&G lace sleeveless blouse, a matching skirt and leggings if you must know - and had even put on some black lipstick. Combined with the hair Alana had already dyed black before I got into this predicament, it looked like I was going through a teenage goth phase at 25. Just when I was about to put on "808s and Heartbreaks" and spend all day wallowing in self-pity, my phone started buzzing. "Monica?" I asked, answering without even bothering to see who was calling. "Yeah, I don't think she's gonna be calling you any time soon, honey." It was Gwen, who sounded somewhere between pissed at me and worried for me. "How much did she tell you," I asked. "She told me enough," Gwen said. "If you knew Bryce was cheating on Monica the entire time they were dating, then why the hell didn't you say something?" "So ... " I asked, hesitantly, "she didn't tell you who Bryce was sleeping with?" "Who cares," Gwen said. "Probably some cheap skank who isn't good enough to get her own man so she has to steal someone else's. Fuck that stupid bitch." I had to admit that hurt. I know it wasn't technically me who slept with Bryce, but it was this person I am now, and hearing one of my friends talk about me like that -- even if she didn't know it was me she was talking about -- cut to my core. On top of that, I wasn't even sure if Monica not knowing it was me was a good thing or not. Sure, it gave me a short-term chance to salvage things, but I was going to have to tell her at some point. "You're probably right," I said, saying what I thought Gwen would want to hear. "But I need to make things right with her. Do you know if she's still doing brunch this morning?" "I probably shouldn't even be telling you this," Gwen said, hesitantly, "but she told me to meet her at 11. I really don't think she wants to see you there." "I'm not looking to sit down and drink mimosas with her, but I at least want a chance to apologize," I said. Gwen let out a big sigh. "Dammit, Ali. Look, just let me butter her up and get a couple drinks in her first, and promise you'll leave right away if she starts to make a scene." "I promise, Gwen. And, for what it's worth, I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to get stuck in the middle of this." "Thanks. But remember, Ali, I'm not the one you need to apologize to." We hung up and then it hit me: if Monica really doesn't know yet, then I need to make absolutely sure she doesn't find out from Bryce. I quickly scrolled to my voicemail on my phone and hit "call back" on Bryce's most recent one without even listening to it. "Hey Ali," he said, answering way too casually for my tastes. "Did you say anything to Monica?" "I didn't get a chance to," he said. "She called me last night screaming about me fucking some other bitch the whole time we were together. Then I started laughing because she had no idea this bitch she was yelling about was her best friend, and that just pissed her off more and she hung up." "So she still doesn't know it was me," I asked, hopefully. "Not a fucking clue," he said. "How could you be friends with someone so stupid?" No, how could I sleep with someone who was such an asshole. I really wish I could talk to Alana -- the version that existed before Wednesday -- so I could ask her to begin to explain whatever insanity possessed her to do such an awful thing, and then leave me to deal with the aftermath. Then again, maybe trying to figure out the logic behind that is what drove her insane and left me in this mental state. "Hello, Earth to Ali," Bryce said. "God, I hope you haven't gone stupid too." "Gone stupid," I snapped back angrily. "No, I've always been stupid, I just didn't know it." I took a deep breath and tried to calm down before continuing, because the last thing I needed was Bryce extending this reign of stupidity. "Look, just don't say anything to Monica," I said. "If she hears from you that I was the one sleeping with you, then she'll do everything she can to keep us apart, and you don't want that, right?" "You really think she'd do that," Bryce asked. "I know she would." I was lying my ass off. I had no idea what Monica would do -- hell, based on the last 24 hours, she'd probably tell me to enjoy my life with that asshole and that he was exactly what I deserved -- but I figured I could play on what I knew Bryce wanted to try and get what I wanted, which was just more time to try and salvage whatever could be salvaged from all of this. "Fine, we'll do it your way for now," Bryce said. "But you owe me." "I don't owe you shit you human embodiment of a used tampon." OK, so I didn't say that out loud, but it was definitely the first thought that crossed my mind. Instead I just hung up before I actually said something I'd regret and tossed my phone on the bed. It was just after 10, which meant I had a few minutes to change and get ready to go see Monica. I stripped off my blouse and started going through the pile of laundry that I still hadn't put away and let my mind start drifting toward what I'd say to Monica when I saw her. I couldn't think of a single time in my life where I'd pissed off a friend a friend this badly. Then again, I never really had many close friends other than Mark, and whenever we'd fight, we'd hash it out over drinks and video games and things would be fine within a day or two. I didn't think Monica - particularly this version of Monica - was interested in an NBA 2K best-of-three. It was at that moment I realized that since I'd become Alana, I hadn't done anything I usually did, aside from listen to a Kanye West album or two. I had been so busy trying to live Alana's life that I hadn't taken the time to enjoy anything about life in general. It seemed silly, but I missed comic books; this was the first new comic Wednesday in years where I hadn't gone to the store and picked up my weekly pulls. I missed video games; there weren't even any decent mobile games on Alana's iPhone. I missed pizza. Oh, God how I missed pizza. I started thinking about all the other things about my life that I missed and realized that for all my complaining about my life and all the things that weren't going my way, I really hadn't had it that bad. And I started to think that maybe Alana hadn't had it that great. Sure, she was beautiful and popular but what did she really enjoy in life? My mind kept wandering through what I'd learned about Alana, and before I knew it my phone was buzzing again. I picked it up and ... it's 11:45?! Looking up at myself in the mirror of my vanity, I realized I'd slipped back into Alana-mode again. I had a bold, shimmering eye-liner with a hint of contrast in my brows, and vibrant red lipstick that was standing out against my lightened complexion. I'd changed into a red and black Diane von Furstenberg mini dress and matching strappy heels, more suitable for a Friday night cocktail party than Sunday morning brunch. It's like Alana wanted to go to this to show Monica exactly why Bryce had bailed on her, while I really wanted to do this exact opposite. I'd been so shocked by what I'd seen in the mirror that I totally forgot to answer the phone. Fortunately Gwen called right back. "Where the hell have you been," she said. "Monica's just about ready to leave." "Stall her," I said. "I'll be there in 10 minutes." "I'll see what I can do," she said. "But no promises." I realized I didn't have any time to change to something more appropriate, so I just threw my phone into my nearest clutch and quickly made my way downstairs, where I ran into my Lexi. "A little overdressed for church, aren't you," she said with a strong hint of sarcasm in her voice. "I don't really have time for this," I said, probably in a harsher tone than I intended. "I gotta go." "Wait," she said, as I sprinted out the back door to an empty driveway where my car should've been. "Where's my car, Lexi? Please tell me you didn't do anything to my car." "God, Ali, no," she said, exasperated. "Mom took it. Remember, she had to drop off her car at the dealer yesterday, and Ron's at work today." "So we have no car?" She just shook her head no. "Fuck!" "Oh, don't look at me like that," I said to my sister, whose jaw had dropped with my sudden outburst. "I need to get across town in 10 minutes and I don't have a car and the only people I know who could drive me are already at the place I need to be." "The only people," she asked, with her eyebrow arched in a way I didn't remotely trust. Then it hit me. "No, I can't call him. He's exactly the wrong person for this." "Do you have another option?" "No," I said, letting out a deep sigh of resignation. I pulled my phone out of my clutch and dialed the number I'd known by heart for years. "I need a huge favor, and I need you to not ask questions, and I need you to not make a thing of this at all, and I need you out front in two minutes. OK, bye." I hung up without even giving him a chance to respond, because I knew that Mark would do this for Alana and I hated toying with him like this. Meanwhile Lexi had this huge smile on her face. "You called Mark, didn't you?" "Zip it," I said, before turning around and storming out. "Have fun," she yelled to me as I walked down the driveway toward the front of our house to make my way down the street to Mark's place. I rolled my eyes hard enough that I was pretty sure she could see them even though I was facing away from her. Absolutely nothing about this was going to be fun. ***** "Just wait 15 minutes for me and if I'm not out here by then, then wait a little longer and absolutely do not come inside looking for me." Mark looked puzzled. "But what if..." "Ah, ah, ah," I said, cutting him off. "I said no questions. I promise I'll explain later, but for now I really just need to hurry." I didn't even wait for a response before sprinting inside, partially because I needed to make sure I caught Monica before she left, and partially because I needed to get out of this oppressive heat that was going to wreak havoc on my hair, which I'd styled beautifully when I zoned out and vainly wanted to keep this way, even if it was a reminder that I wasn't in total control of myself at all times. It really did look that good. Fortunately, as I entered the restaurant, I immediately spotted Gwen and Monica toward the back, laughing it up and appearing to have a good time. Monica was sitting with her back facing me, so she didn't spot me, but Gwen did, and immediately reached for her phone. A few seconds later, a text message popped up on mine. "She's calmed down a little bit, but she's still pretty pissed at you, so be careful." "Should I come over right now," I texted back. "No. I'll go to bathroom. Come over and sit down in my place." "KK :)" I waited in the lobby, peaking back at the table to catch when Gwen got up without letting Monica see me. A couple minutes later, Gwen made her way to the bathroom and gave me a quick nod as she passed by. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I had goosebumps on my arms, though I couldn't be entirely sure whether they were from nerves or from the over-active air conditioning hitting my under-covered body. But I definitely knew the feeling in my stomach was the nerves -- it was far too early in my pregnancy for it to be a kicking baby. My steps slowed as I got closer to Monica's table. She was on her phone, taking an Instagram photo of her drink, and thankfully completely oblivious to my approach. Still, I hadn't thought about what I was going to say at all, and I was seconds away from having to say it. Finally, I sat down right across from Monica, who was too engrossed in her social media feeds to notice it was me. "So, what are we doing later," she said without even looking up. I hesitated, unsure if I should respond or how Monica would respond when I did. "I was thinking we could hit up Sephora. Maybe MAC. I really just want to get some new lipstick. I hate this shade." "I think it looks nice," I said, before quickly covering my mouth, forgetting that Monica had no idea she'd been talking to me. She put down her phone and her jaw dropped. Then she shot me a look that -- well, it was basically the same look I gave Mark when he didn't tell the waitress I wasn't his girlfriend, but amped up to 11. I'd been physically tiny for five days now but up until this exact moment I hadn't truly known what it was like to feel small. Monica didn't even say anything to me before pushing her chair back from the table and getting up. "Monica, wait," I said, reaching out to try and stop her without physically restraining her. Then, without thinking at all -- something I'd been doing far too often the past couple days -- I blurted out the one thing I knew would get her to stop dead in her tracks. "I'm pregnant." I really didn't want to play that card so soon, but it just sort of slipped out and now here we are. I watched her face try and process the information, and seeing her expression slowly change from passionate anger to pure joy was one of the most satisfying and terrifying things I'd ever witnessed -- maybe because halfway in-between she looked like a female version of The Joker at his most demented (the bright red lipstick wasn't helping). "Oh my god I'm so happy for you," she said, way too loudly as she practically jumped across the table to give me a hug. Then just as quickly as she'd become joyful, she reversed course again. "Wait, it's not Mark's is it?" "No, of course not, silly," I said, trying to sound casual enough that she'd just assume the father was Aiden and not ask questions that would lead to incredibly uncomfortable answers. "Ohmigod, yay! My best friend is going to have a baby!" Now Monica was being way too loud and other people in the restaurant were looking over, some of whom I'm sure had to know who I was, which meant this news wasn't exactly going to stay between us very long. But, almost as importantly, she'd called me her best friend. "So we're still friends," I asked. "Well, I'm still pissed at you for lying to me about Bryce, but c'mon... you're having a baby! That's so awesome!" "Wait, you're pregnant?!" Well, Gwen was back at the table. I made a shushing motion with my finger and Gwen immediately did the same, then pulled up a chair from an adjacent table without even asking if the people sitting there were using it. "So what did Aiden say when you told him," Gwen asked in a whisper. "I haven't told him yet," I said, "which is why I'm trying to keep this quiet. So don't tell anyone. Not Darnell, not my sister. No one." "Oh, Darnell and I aren't a thing, so you don't have to worry about me telling him," Gwen said. "Besides Ali," Monica said, while typing on her phone. "We're your friends. Why would we do anything like that?" "Who are you texting," I asked her. "No one." "OK, then what are you posting on Facebook." "Nothing." "Monica, you're a horrible liar." At that moment, my phone buzzed with a Facebook notification. Monica had tagged me in a post. I didn't even open it. I just turned my phone toward Monica but before she could even register what was on my screen, Gwen snatched the phone away from me. "What the hell, Gwen?" "Smile," she said, taking a picture of me with my own camera, before handing the phone to Monica. "Aww, it's your first mommy photo," Monica said as she turned the camera back to me. "Guys, seriously," I said, reaching across the table to snatch my phone back. "Can you two please just keep this quiet until I tell everyone?" They both nodded with huge grins on their faces as I finally opened up the Facebook notification. Brunching with my bestie Alana Carlysle who just told me the best. news. ever. OK, so that wasn't so bad. I mean surely my mom would put two and two together, but she also wasn't going to tell anyone before I had a chance to. So basically I just had to make sure no one else found out in the next 30 hours before I had a chance to talk to Aiden in person and break the news to him, which was probably going to be the most difficult conversation of either of my lives. "Really, thanks for keeping this to yourselves," I said to them. "And Monica, I really, truly am sorry for not being honest with you." And continuing to not be honest with you, because dropping two truth bombs like that in one morning probably violates the Geneva Convention. "Bryce was the real asshole, and he's the one who should be apologizing," Gwen said. "Whatever," Monica replied. "I'm just glad he's out of our lives forever." I reflexively gulped nervously, and reached for one of the drinks in front of me before Monica reached out and took it from my hand. "Sorry, no mimosas for you mommy." "God," I said, rolling my eyes, "that's gonna catch on as a nickname, isn't it?" "You know it, mommy," Gwen said, picking up another glass with just a tiny bit of mimosa left in it and toasting with Monica. "Well, this has been embarrassingly swell, but I really have to get going," I said, starting to get up out of my chair. "C'mon, stay," Monica urged. "Look, we'll order some more food, get you a couple Shirley Temples and talk about anything but Bryce or babies, okay?" I sighed deeply, because I knew there was no convincing Monica to change her mind -- in that way this Monica was exactly like the one I'd known in my previous life. "Sounds great," I said as convincingly as possible, as I pulled out my phone to text Mark. "Change of plans," I typed out, the sound of my well-manicured nails clacking against the touchscreen. "Don't need ride back. Thanks for driving me. Will explain all later." He replied almost instantly with "??" and I just as quickly fired back with "Evrything fine. talk later. xoxo" Yes, the "xoxo" was probably more suggestive than I needed to be considering how strange things were between the two of us right now, but I also didn't want him following me in here and seeing Monica, given how their last encounter had gone. It boggles my mind to thing that in the life I'd been ripped away from, these two were hopelessly in love and ready to move in with each other. Now they couldn't even be in the same room together. "C'mon, put your phone away," Monica said. I obliged, slipping it back into my clutch and putting the clutch under my seat. Monica signaled for the waitress, Gwen finished off her drink, and for a moment it seemed all was right in their world. ***** After brunch was finished, I'd spent legitimately two hours packing, and had put maybe a total of one outfit in the spacious suitcase that was sprawled upon my fluffy bedspread. The me in me wasn't comfortable wearing nearly everything that was in Alana's closet, while the Alana in me wasn't satisfied with anything I pulled out. I was nearly at the point of just grabbing an armful of dresses, tops, and skirts and stuffing them into the suitcase, but that seemed silly for what was supposed to be a three-day trip. I'd reached the point too where the scheduled length of that trip was worrying me. I knew I had to break the pregnancy news to Aiden and I felt like I should probably be honest with him about what Alana had done to land me in that circumstance. However, I also knew that sitting on that news for 3 days would be nearly impossible, and breaking it to him at the start of a 3-day trip would likely bring a very early end to my visit. So I was very much between a rock and a hard place, and yet for some reason I couldn't explain, I still felt compelled to make this trip and break this news in person. For the time being, the bigger problem facing me was picking out clothes to wear. Most of what was in Alana's wardrobe was far too tight or showed far too much skin, or sometimes both simultaneously. At the same time, there was a part of me that enjoyed looking good - an experience I'd had far too little with in my previous life. After a few more minutes of struggling with the selections in the closet and failing miserably at picking out acceptable choices to put in my suitcase, I decided to get dressed in my workout clothes and go for a long walk. I'd hoped maybe the combination of fresh air - as humid as it might be at this time of day and year - and a bit of music might clear my head and get me more prepared for this trip. As I slipped into my workout shorts and a grey NYU tank top, I realized that maybe getting away from my problems at home might be the best thing for me right now - that the most important thing I needed in this complex situation was time and distance. Time and distance. The two things I managed to kill plenty of on the subsequent run, in that same outfit I'd lamented putting on shortly ago. It wasn't long before my walk had turned into a power walk then turned into a run as my ankle was clearly feeling much better Even more surprisingly, I'd let my iPhone sit on shuffle, and ended up listening to far more of Alana's original music than the songs I'd downloaded in recent days. Before long, I found myself back at the reservoir, and quickly thereafter made my way up to the large boulder that overlooked the lake. The air was warm, but not oppressively so, and there was a soft breeze that felt good on the skin, like a comforting whisper from an unknown force that even though things seemed chaotic everything would be all right. I lay back on the boulder and closed my eyes, letting the low afternoon sun beat down on me. In my old frame, I would've been sweating like a pig just being out here in this sun -- not even accounting for the multi-mile run -- but that wasn't a problem for me now. Alana did still have a fair complexion, so getting burnt was a definite concern, but I wasn't on planning on being here long. After a few minutes of sun-bathing, I started to imagine myself as Superman, though I guess Supergirl would've been a more appropriate comparison in this scenario. I thought of the yellow sun of Earth recharging me, making me more powerful and able to face any challenge. And, man, did I have some challenges to face coming up. I'd never been much for meditation, but I let the sound of the music in my headphones wash over me and started taking deep breaths. Weirdly, I wanted to let my mind drift, but stay cognizant of my thoughts at all times; I didn't want to slip into Alana auto-pilot again, especially after what had happened this morning. One thought kept popping into my head over and over again: what if I just lied to Aiden? This whole situation wasn't my doing, so why should I be the one to have to clean it up? Just tell Aiden the baby is his, tell Bryce to stay out of my life forever, and move forward with our relationship -- and my relationship with Monica -- intact. But was that really an option? Could I build a life based on a lie? Then again, wasn't any life I built as Alana the biggest lie of all? Assuming that something inexplicable happened to actually cause this, and that it wasn't just an insane mental break -- something I wasn't counting out by a long shot -- then wouldn't it in some way be better to just build an entirely new life of my own, rather than try to cling to whatever messed up relationships Alana had built? I could feel my head start pounding thinking about all this, and my deep breathing had turned into heavy breathing. I took my headphones out and sat up and tried catching my breath, but it was clear what was happening. I was having a panic attack. Well, on the bright side, Alana's consciousness wasn't taking over. Instead, panic was. It took a few seconds, but I managed to get my breathing back under control, and then, out of nowhere, let out a primal scream of frustration. I just wanted to go back to having to deal with my shitty problems of needing to find an apartment and being stuck in a bad job. Sitting there on the verge of tears, something that had become a way too frequent occurrence in recent days, I was startled by a voice from behind. "Alana, is that you?" The voice broke through the silence so suddenly that I jolted up and nearly spun my head around full-on Linda Blair style. I calmed down slightly when I saw it was Sara then quickly started experiencing an entirely different type of anxiety. "Holy shit, Sara," I said, once again experiencing breathing problems that had nothing to do with physical health. "You scared the shit out of me." "Sorry," she said. "I was on a run, and just saw you sitting there looking upset and I hadn't heard from you since you bolted the other night and was wondering if everything was all right." "Well, it's obviously not," I said, more snarky than I'd intended. "I mean ... I just ... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out like that. It's just things have been pretty shitty for me these past couple days and I was just trying to get away from it all." "It's cool," she said. "I'll just get going." "No," I quickly responded. "I'm kinda glad you're here." I slid over on the boulder, which had more than enough room for two people -- especially two people as small as we were -- and motioned for her to join me. She hopped up and we both sat looking out at the reservoir. "You know, I wasn't just on a run," Sara said. "What?" "I was looking for you. I stopped by your house, but your mom said you went for a run, and I remember you telling me you used to love coming up here." "You were looking for me," I asked, looking at her, rather than the view. Even worked up from a bit of an uphill run, she looked spectacular. She was wearing a blue tank top that brought out the blue in her eyes, and her red leggings almost perfectly matched her gorgeous hair, which was held back by a pink headband. "You had such nice things to say about my set, and then you just bolted without saying a word. I was wondering if it was something I said." "No, it wasn't that. It's just ... complicated." "It's Cash, isn't it," she said, with a hint of disappointment in her melodic voice. "You know, he really likes you." "That's great," I said, betraying my lie with my lack of enthusiasm. "You don't feel the same way about him, do you?" "I mean, I just met the guy." "That's not an answer." "No, I guess that's fair. I mean ... he's just ... he's probably a great guy and I'm sure he'll make someone really happy someday, but even if he was my type -- and he's definitely not -- my life is crazy right now." "So," Sara said, hesitantly, "he's not your type?" "Not remotely," I said, far more flippantly than I should have, as my eyes drifted back to the reflection of the sun on the water. "So then," Sara said, "who is your type?" Having looked away from her, I couldn't be quite sure, but I could've sworn I saw Sara adjusting her breasts as she asked that. Maybe she was just uncomfortable in her sports bra -- she definitely had way more squeezed in there than I had to deal with -- but maybe she was sending me a signal. I'd always been awful at picking up signals when I was a guy, not that I got many sent my way. Now the whole gender swap was confusing things even more. I didn't think Sara was a lesbian, but then again I had no real proof that she wasn't either. "I ... I guess I don't really have a type," I said, hesitantly as I looked back at her. "I just know whatever it is, it isn't Cash." "That's ... cool," she said. We just looked at each other for a moment. Then a moment became a minute. Then a minute became a seemingly-endless awkward silence as neither of us knew what to do next. "Screw it," Sara said, breaking the tension. Then before I could react, she leaned in and kissed me. I'd been dreaming of this moment for six months, but never like this. As her lips, with the slightest hint of bubble gum lip gloss, pressed against mine, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her in closer. She put her hands on the back of my neck and stuck her tongue into my mouth, and I felt a warm, pleasant feeling spread through my entire body. She slid her hands down my back and started caressing it, and I responded by running my hands through her gorgeous hair and we continued locking lips. I hadn't had a makeout session this intense since high school, and it was almost hot enough to make me forget I was wearing almost as much makeup as she was. We finally stopped our only semi-private kissing and grope session for me to say something. "I had no idea you were into girls." "Girls? No," Sara said. "Just you." "What," I said, taken aback. She stood up and walked to the edge of the cliff overlooking the reservoir. "I've loved you since the day I first laid eyes on you in class years ago," she said with her back turned to me. Then she turned around and looked me right in the eye. "I never thought for a second you'd feel the same way about me, but then when you came into the store, it's like you were looking at me for the first time. And everything I felt four years ago just came rushing back." "Wow," I said, walking up next to her. "I don't think anyone's ever felt that way about me before. Or if they did, they certainly never said it like that." "Weren't you engaged," she asked. Oh, right. Alana was. To Mark. But in that moment, I wasn't talking about the history Alana had -- the one I never actually lived through. I was talking about me. It was the first time since all this happened that I'd truly allowed the Andrew part of me to answer honestly and instinctively without worrying about how it conflicted with Alana's established life. And it felt great. "That was a whole other life," I said, being 100% literal to me, but metaphorical to Sara. "So," she asked, hesitantly. "How do you feel?" I took her hand, then turned and looked her straight in the eye. "I feel exactly the same way." She leaned in to kiss me again, but I pulled back. "But," I said, continuing my line of thought, "it's more complicated than that. That 'other life' I talked about, it's left me with some ... stuff to deal with." "Like your boyfriend," she asked, as she pulled her hand away from mine. "Like that," I said, as clouds began to roll in. "I'm flying out to see him tomorrow, and I need to be honest with him. I don't see myself having a future with him, but I don't want to hurt him." "And," Sara asked. "And what," I asked back. "I just get the sense you're holding something back," she said, as she reached out and started running her hand through my hair. "You don't have to. You can be completely honest with me." Oh, Sara, how I wish that was remotely true. If I was completely -- and I mean 100% utterly and openly -- honest with you, you'd think I was crazy and never speak to me again. And maybe I am crazy -- I still haven't entirely ruled that out -- but I definitely don't want to lose you forever. With being completely honest off the table, I settled for the next-best thing: more honest, at least honest enough to make Sara think I was approaching completeness. "Sara," I said, my voice quivering as the wind picked up. "I'm pregnant." Before she could respond, I took a couple of steps back and lay back on the boulder, letting out a deep breath and looking up into the sky. Then Sara climbed on top of me, putting her gorgeous face directly into my sight line. "Am I the first person you've told," she asked with a look on her face that was a mixture of happiness and concern. "No," I said. "But you're the first person I've wanted to talk with more about it." She rolled over and was lying next to me as a few drops of rain began to fall from the sky. "You mean like plan a future," she asked. "No. Just... talk more, I guess. Maybe back at my place? You can help me pack for my trip. I mean, what exactly are you supposed to wear to tell your boyfriend 'I want to break up with you because I'm in love with the most beautiful girl I've ever seen and oh by the way I'm pregnant and there's a good chance the baby isn't actually yours?'" Sara rolled back on top of me and kissed me again. The rain was starting to come down a bit harder, but the trees overhanging the clearing were doing a good job of keeping it off of us -- and Sara was doing an even better job keeping it off of me. "What was that for," I asked. "I'm really the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?" "You are." ***** Back in my room, Sara was digging through my overstuffed closet as I sat on the bed with my open suitcase and tried not to stress too much over what had just happened. We jogged back to her car, which was parked at the entrance to the reservoir, then drove to my place, mostly in silence. It's not that we were scared to talk to each other, we just had so much to say and it seemed silly to try to say it in a five-minute drive. So instead we listened to music - it turned out that much like Alana, Sara is into Taylor Swift, even if she sounds different in her own musical style - and then started talking when we got upstairs. Well, first we started making out on my bed, then after a few minutes of that, we remembered that wasn't why we'd come back here at all, and we got around to talking and packing. She'd picked out a couple of outfits I felt comfortable wearing and I'd packed them into the suitcase, which still had way more room for more clothes. Clearly Alana was the kind of girl who traveled with three times as many outfits as she actually needed to wear, whereas I was starting to think I really only needed one day of clothes as it seemed far more likely that my trip would end up being cut short. "What is this," Sara asked, as she struggled to pull something out of my closet. I noticed she was tugging on a red spandex sleeve. "Oh, that's my Dark Phoenix costume." "Your what," she asked again as she pulled it completed out and held it up against her body. "It looks like a slutty figure skating outfit." "Shut up," I said, giggling as I grabbed it away from here. "It's just ... a costume." "Oh," she said. "So do you and Aiden, like... role play?" "Not THAT type of costume," I said as I tossed it into the growing discard pile of clothes on the side of my bed. "It was from a modeling job last year." "God," she said, "you have lived such an incredible life." "I guess," I said. "Sometimes I don't really think so." She put down the blouse she'd pulled out and walked over to me as I sat on the edge of my bed. "You have, you know," she said, gently caressing the side of my neck. "So many girls would love to switch places with you." "Guys too," I asked, knowingly. "OK, your life is pretty awesome, but I'm not sure any guy would want to be pregnant, no matter how shitty his life was," she said. I tried to hide my disappointment in hearing that, but I couldn't deny it. As bad as my life had been a week ago, if you'd presented me with the option of becoming Alana, knowing everything about her, there's no way I would've done it. "Hey, what's wrong," she asked, picking up on my change in mood. "Nothing," I said. "I just mean... we've been picking through clothes for a while and I still have no idea what to wear when I see Aiden." "Oh," she said, springing back up from the bed, "I think I have some idea about that." "Really," I asked apprehensively. Sara started digging back in the closet and then pulled out the one thing I absolutely did not want her to show me: the red Herve Leger bandage dress. "OK, no way," I said. "That's WAY too dressy for a flight." "Oh c'mon," she said, bringing the dress over to me. "Just imagine the look on his face when you walk off the plane in this. Anything you tell him after that won't even matter, because all he'll remember is how beautiful you looked when you told him." "Yeah," I said, taking the dress and holding it up against me as I stood up and looked in the mirror. "But won't that just make him more upset that I'm breaking up with him?" Sara just smiled as she looked at me. "Ohmigod, that's what you want isn't it," I asked, starting to blush. "Maybe I just want you back here sooner," she said as she joined me by the mirror. "I mean, just look at that girl," she said, pointing at my reflection. "Would you want to spend a single minute apart from her if you didn't have to?" I started blushing, which Sara quickly picked up on. She took the dress from me and held it up against me just like I'd been doing, then let it drop as she kissed me. Just then I heard someone come into the room. "Hey, Ali, can I borrow... your... lip..." Alexis' voice trailed off as she was clearly stunned by what she'd seen as she barged into my room. "Oh, God, Lexi, I wish you'd knocked," I said. She was frozen in place, looking like a statue of a high school girl in a blue cocktail dress trying to look older than her 16 years. "Umm, hi," Sara said, awkwardly. She picked the dress up off the ground and put it on my bed as she went to introduce herself to my sister. "I'm Sara," she said, extending her hand to my sister, who still hadn't moved, or even closed her jaw, which understandably dropped when she walked in on me making out with a girl. "Umm... I went to school with your sister and... well..." "Sara, can you pick out some shoes to go with that dress, while I go talk to my sister," I said, as I started leading Alexis out of the room. We walked down the hall to her room, and I stood in the doorway as Alexis sat on her bed and tried to gather herself. There was an awkward silence and right as I was about to say something, Alexis finally spoke up. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!" "Look, Lexi, I just need you to calm down for a second and..." "CALM DOWN?! YOU WERE JUST MAKING OUT WITH SOME RANDOM GIRL." "Holy shit, Lex, just tell the whole neighborhood, why don't you?" She covered her mouth, realizing for the first time just how loud she'd been. Thankfully neither my mother nor Ron was home, so it was actually unlikely anyone other than Sara had heard her. "I didn't plan for this to happen," I said. "It just sort of did." "So what does this mean for..." "For me and Aiden? For me and Mark? Hell, for me and Sara even? I have no idea. I have no plan here, Lexi. I know you think of me as this perfect older sister who has everything figured out, but for the first time in my life, I don't. And it's scary and kind of amazing all at the same time." "So are you still going to L.A. tomorrow," she asked, her voice getting quieter with each passing word. "I am," I said, as I sat down next to her. "I don't know what's going to happen there, but I know whatever I have to tell Aiden, I have to tell him in person." Then, out of nowhere, Alexis gave me a hug. "What was that for," I asked as she let go of her embrace. "I dunno," she said, nervously. "I guess I just thought you could use a hug." She was right. So I hugged her back. "Thanks, Lexi. You're my best friend and the best sister anyone could ever ask for." "Aww," she said, hugging me back. "Now stop hugging me and go make out with your girlfriend some more." I playfully smacked her on the back of the head as I let go of the hug and she let out a laugh. "Oh, Lexi," I said as I started walking out of her room to go back to Sara. "Don't tell anyone about this. Not even Monica." "I won't," she said. Unlike earlier with Monica and the pregnancy news, I felt confident that Lexi wouldn't betray me - even though on some level I was betraying her by not telling her that particular piece of news. As I returned to my room, I saw Sara put a couple more pieces of clothing into my suitcase. "So, is everything okay," she asked me. "I think so," I said, picking up the strappy red heels she'd picked out to go with the way-too-revealing dress that I was apparently now committed to wearing on my early morning flight. "Do you really think this will look good on me?" "Yes," she said, closing up the suitcase and leaning over it to give me a quick kiss on the lips. "In fact, I wouldn't mind seeing it on you right now." She walked over to the window to pull down my shade, and then closed the bedroom door, being sure to lock it so no one would disturb us.