It was Sunday night, two weeks after the incident. I lay in bed as I was checking my Twitter. Ding. It was a text from Chad.

"Hey, is everything ok? You seem rlly down lately :/."

I ignored the message, just like all the others. I hadn't responded to him ever since me and Troy slept together. School wasn't much different either. I ignored him and gave him short responses when he asked me something, hoping he'd get mad and want to break up before I broke his heart with the news, I felt extreme guilt for having betrayed him like that. He always treats me so nicely, but sometimes, I just don't feel a true connection. I scrolled through Twitter, trying to deny those thoughts of the presence of love missing from mine and Chad's relationship. I know he loves me. Yeah, I may be a teenage girl who is too inexperienced to be calling something love, but I could see it in his eyes whenever he looked at me. He had told me many time before that I was a blessing in his life, that the minute we started dating his life had some sort of "rebirth". At first, I felt like I truly did feel the same towards him. Otherwise, I would have never gotten in this relationship. As time started to pass, I realized that he and I don't share the same interests, nor is his definition of "fun" the same as mine. Whenever I suggest doing something other than watching T.V and other boring things, he reacts like my dad would. He calls them "immature". I think that's why he made such a good impression on them, because all three of them think the same way. I got more and more into analyzing whether or not I was truly happy in this relationship, but guilt still remained the number one emotion I was feeling. He is such a good guy, and the only thing he tries to do for me is try to look out for me. He deserved much more than what I could offer, and deserved to know what was happened the night of the party, but how was I going to tell him?

I started feeling a little nauseous while I was still in bed, waiting for my thoughts to shut up and let me go to sleep. The feeling wouldn't go away, and after a good 5 minutes of hating my life, I finally decided to get up and go to the bathroom and just let it all out. It's uncommon for me to vomit, as I usually try to avoid it at all costs, even if that means feeling like shit for hours. My initial thought was that maybe my nervousness for school tomorrow and the fear that Chad was going to find out about everything soon was too intense for my stomach. After having thrown up my dinner into the toilet, I flushed it and looked at myself in the mirror. I was so disappointed and infuriated with myself. I walked back into my room and let my body fall onto my bed as if it were lifeless. I felt a lot better after vomiting. Before my rowdy thoughts had the chance to chance to keep my awake any longer, I dozed off and fell asleep, escaping reality for a while.

It was Monday morning, and my annoying alarm clock woke me up, as usual. But today I dreaded Mondays more than usual, and I hate them a lot already. I began to complain to myself about how fucked I thought the school systems were for making students go to school so early. My brain couldn't fully function at this time, especially when I had to get up at 5AM just to make sure I was on time. I walked into the bathroom, still talking to myself and pretending as if the rant in my head was going to change everything. I washed my face because there was something about night time that made my skin so oily, leaving an atrocity on my face. Afterwards, I grabbed my toothbrush and squeezed out some toothpaste onto its bristle. I put it under the running water and began brushing my teeth. For some reason, I started feeling nauseous again. The words "morning sickness" rang in my head. I literally shook my head, thinking that maybe it would help my mind get all jumbled up and forget about the thought. But again, just like the pajama plan, it was dumb and ineffective. I tried to convince myself that maybe I was coming down with the stomach flu or something. Not much convincing was done before I vomited while I still had toothpaste in my mouth. Luckily I was able to set the toothbrush down before making a run for the toilet. The taste of toothpaste and vomit mixed filled my mouth. In fact, it made me vomit even more. After what seemed to be 20 minutes of continuous vomiting, I finally stopped, walked back to the sink, and rinsed my mouth out. As I was about to brush my teeth for the second time, my mom walked in, tying her robe.

"Honey, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I just vomited a little, that's all."

"I heard you throw up last night, too."

"I think I might have the stomach flu, honestly."

"I'm sorry sweety. Do you want me to run to the store and get you any medicine."

"Nah, it's okay mom. It's like five in the morning. You can go back to sleep. After all, I'm more upset about vomiting while brushing my teeth than having the actual stomach flu."

"Well, if you want, you can stay home. I don't want you feeling sick at school."

"Thanks for taking into consideration your dying daughter's recovery. It's greatly appreciated."

We shared a laugh before she went back to her bedroom. When she closed the door behind her, I started the entire tooth brushing process over again. Meanwhile, I was extremely grateful that I got permission to stay home today, because that meant that I didn't have to lie to Chad's face, which had become a part of my daily routine, and I didn't have to make an extra effort to avoid Troy at all possible costs. I finished brushing my teeth, and went back to sleep.

I woke up at around nine o'clock to a house that is fully to myself. My parents had both gone to work. I went downstairs, because I usually look through the fridge for things to pig out to while watching T.V. But today, for some reason, I wasn't feeling it. I didn't even have an appetite. Actually, the loss of appetite was so intense that even by looking at food, I became nauseous. I figured it was the stomach flu trying to ruin my day of being home alone. I ran through the kitchen, where everyday my soul was cleansed when I stuffed my face, and avoided to look at any of the breakfast my mom had made me.

"Man, stomach flu really blows. I can't even enjoy food," I said to myself out loud knowing that there was no one here to judge me.

I made my way into the living room and laid down on the cold leather couches. My room was so hot, since the weather was starting to warm up, that the feeling of these couches brought a sense of relief. I feared turning on the T.V, knowing that with even if one of the many advertisements from Taco Bell appeared, I would vomit. I was wearing one of Chad's t-shirts, but no pants. That was one of my favorite things about being alone. I could be my complete self. Ding. I looked down at my phone, wondering who was bothering me in my alone time. It was Chad.

"Hey babe, where r u?"

I felt the need to respond to him, but I just made it short.

"At home. I don't feel good."

The response was so immediate that I thought he was secretly behind me reading the message before I sent it.

"Im srry bby! Do u want me to get u anything?"

I felt so bad. He cares so much for me, and yet I was treating him like complete shit because of a mistake I made.

"No it's okay :). Thanks."

Ding. I thought Chad had texted back unbelievably fast again, but this time, a different name popped up on my screen. It was Troy.

"Hey Gabs, I know right now might not be the best time, since I've kinda gotten the message that we aren't friends anymore. Buuut, I just wanted to let you know that a while back, after everything happened, I cleaned my room & I didn't find a condom wrapper anywhere. So I just wanted to know if you're well, you know, pregnant? Txt me back!"

My heart started pounding ferociously in my chest. As much as I tried to deny it, I couldn't ignore the fact that vomiting this morning could been triggered by morning sickness. It may be the stomach flu, but I had to be 100% sure that I wasn't pregnant. I put on some pants, grabbed my car keys and made my way to the drugstore. I had to buy a pregnancy test.