Immaculate

Tip money. The thought reminded me of something awful—I was supposed to work the closing shift that night. But I’d have to worry about that later. After. One problem at a time.

“Okay then, I think I’m set,” I said, trying to sound infinitely cooler and braver than I felt. “Let’s get out of this place, please.” I could do this. Pay for the tests, drive back to Ha

Then this would all be behind me.

I wedged the boxes between my crossed arms and started toward the front registers, hoping that other shoppers passing by wouldn’t notice what I was holding. I’m a virgin, I wanted to scream. A virgin! Stop judging me!

The whole confidence act crumbled as soon as I got in line to pay. The cashier looked sweet, plump and middle-aged—she was definitely someone’s mom. What would she think of me? Would she say something? Ask me anything?

Izzy reached out and grabbed both boxes. “I’ll do it,” she said, avoiding my eyes. “Just give me the cash.”

I was so stu

God, I loved Izzy. I hoped that I would be half as composed and courageous as she was being if this was happening to her or Ha

The cashier didn’t so much as blink when she sca

“Where do you want to take the tests?” Ha

The air was dense and sticky and infused with the smell of sweet, powdery doughnuts being boxed by the thousands at the factory on the next lot over. It felt too hot and summery to believe that senior year, our last year at Green Hill High, my last year with Izzy and Ha

Nine months. I cringed.

“I figured we would go to your house,” I said, but then I noticed Ha

“How about we go to your creek?” Izzy suggested. “The old tree house?”

“You’re kidding, right?” I asked, almost laughing out loud. The warm, sparkling sunlight made everything feel slightly less frightening.

“Only half. I’d say our actual houses are out, since we don’t want our families sniffing around. So that leaves some kind of public restroom, because I refuse to let you do this in the back of my brand-new car. And the idea of you pissing in some dirty McDonald’s bathroom is way more depressing than even I can handle right now. The creek is looking pretty fantastic if you ask me.”

Thinking about the tree house flooded my mind with a heavy, rushing stream of golden memories. Long, lazy summer days with Ha

Izzy was right, as she usually was, and for once I didn’t mind admitting it out loud.

“Of course that’s where we should go,” I said, looking over at Izzy. “That’s a great idea.” Her dark eyes were wary at first, softening only after she realized I was being sincere. “The creek is the perfect place. If there could be a perfect place for Mina Dietrich to be taking a pregnancy test, at least.” Izzy choked on a laugh, which made me laugh, and suddenly the three of us were all giggling like the little girls who had played house day after day along that creek. We were practically skipping to the car, caught up in the thrill of an entirely insane and entirely ridiculous new adventure.

“Let’s stop and pick up some coffee and sandwiches or something on our way back,” Ha

I felt calmer than I had in weeks just picturing the way the sun danced along the ripples of the creek, the way the trees seemed to block out all evidence of the rest of the outside world.

In those woods it was only us: Mina, Ha

Everything would be okay.

Everything was really going to be okay.

chapter three

“The good news, according to the instructions, is that the whole thing should only take about three minutes once Mina downs that liter of root beer,” Izzy said, squinting at the little unfolded manuals fa

I nodded as I chewed on the same piece of bread that I’d put in my mouth a minute or two before, over and over into a tasteless mush, unable to make myself swallow.

We had stopped at my house first to pick up supplies and make small talk with my parents, who were both beyond thrilled that we wanted to eat lunch out by the old tree house—“the three princesses making an epic return to their kingdom,” as my mom had put it. Thankfully, Gracie had just been picked up for a birthday party at a friend’s house. She would have been begging to tag along otherwise, her impossibly gigantic blue eyes pleading with me, even though she’d never once showed the slightest interest in our precious fort before—she was more of a dollhouse girl than a tree house girl. I usually loved having Gracie follow me and the girls around, but I certainly didn’t want my shadow trailing me to the tree house that afternoon.