Go The F☆ck To Sleep ~ Bedtime Stories for the Outsiders Insomniacs

~Telling Sodapop You're Pregnant~

You're staring down at the button on your jeans and cursing yourself out. They. Just. Won't. Quite. Close...How did you not notice the signs? Yeah, you were always horrible at keeping track of periods, but four months? Really? It took four months before you realized you'd been able to have sex on the daily with your boyfriend, Sodapop, with no crimson tide quarantines? Your fingers stop struggling for a moment as the thought of sex with Soda lingers in your mind. That hard body. The manly smell. His smooth skin gliding over you. The way he moves his body. The sounds he makes when he's completely overtaken by you. You suddenly realize you're licking your lips and shake your head to snap yourself out of the spell. That's exactly what got you here in the first place, dummy.

You pull an elastic out of the top dresser drawer and loop it around the button, pulling it through the hole and back around the button again. There. You've created an extra inch of space. It's enough for now. You just have to wear a long shirt or he's going to notice that you have a hair elastic holding your pants together before you even have a chance to tell him. You tuck your arms into one of his flannel shirts and pull it over your head, tugging at the bottom so it falls almost to your thighs. It's soft and it smells like him. Motor oil, Ivory soap and aftershave. Normally that testosterone saturated aroma gets you hot but it's suddenly making your stomach heave.

Four months of this, you idiot. How did you not figure it out?

You're about to light a scented candle when you hear the knock on your door. Your heart flutters erratically. Three quick knocks and then the door opens. It's been six months. He doesn't need to wait for you to answer anymore.

"Hey gorgeous" he says in a smile that touches every corner of his beautiful face. You love the way his eyes light up every time he sees you. And he's wearing your favorite shirt tonight, the one that hugs his body just enough to show the outline of his defined pecs and abs. How ironic. That's the shirt he was wearing the night you first slept together. The night that was supposed to be a one night stand until, somehow, it wasn't. His arms wrap around you and he takes in a breath, inhaling the scent of your hair, then squeezes you tight. "Mmmmm I missed you, baby." You bury your head in his chest listening to his heart beating for you beneath your ear.

"I missed you too." He suddenly notices the scent of manicotti wafting into the living room from the kitchen beside you.

"Are you making dinner?" You nod, still clinging to his chest, still absorbed in the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around you. He kisses the top of your head with a small smile. "Babe, you didn't have to cook. I was going to take you out tonight, remember?" You finally back your head away from him.

"I know but I thought we could just hang in tonight. Spend some time at the apartment." His hands had been moving up and down your back but they suddenly freeze.

"You want to stay in?" Your stomach starts to tie in knots. You already know what's coming. "Everything ok?" You fake an easy going tone.

"Yeah, everything's fine."

He steps back from you a bit so he can see in your eyes. "But you never want to stay home on a Friday night." He holds a smile for a moment but you can see it slowly fading into worry. You can't stand to see his dancing, sparkling eyes fill with anxiety. "Wait...You had a doctor's appointment today, didn't you?" You kept having dizzy spells and Soda had made you go. You take a breath.

"Yeah. That's what I wanted to talk to you about" you admit rubbing his arm a little to try to lighten the mood. It doesn't work.

"What is it?" he asks with a growing intensity. "Is something wrong? Did they find something?" You open your mouth to speak but can't find the words. His eyes are scanning your body, checking you over as if he thinks he can diagnose something with just his vision. You know your hesitation is only fueling the fear and you have to just dive in and tell him but you're fearing his reaction. Fearing losing him. Fearing what he will think of you for saddling him with eighteen years of responsibility by being stupid enough to forget to take your pill. Just one pill. One stupid pill.