Haha more weirdness. Dr. Last Name returns!

I own Dr. Last Name who will (sadly) reappear a few more time due to the misfortune that she's stuck with him doing her checkups. What luck!

Well, on with story!

More time passes and it's the usual routine every day.

3:15- Wake up and puke my guts out while Mark

4:25- Slip into something to find it's too tight

4:30- Dig through my drawers trying to find something that I can fit into

4:45- eat an insanely fast breakfast and hope I can keep it down

5:00- Manage waiting tables while watching two small twin children. (Not exactly a piece of cake. Or pie, in this case)

9:45- Close up shop then eat with

10:00- argue with Olive over something stupid and then eat dinner (hoping to not regurgitate it later)

11:00- puke more then make Mark stop worrying again.

It's been about a month I'm having clothing problems. I can still find a few shirts but I'll need some pants soon. Emerson finally stopped the hooker thing but he still laughs at the sight of me, especially now that my pants (or skirts) are too tight. Olive has helpfully pointed out that that also makes me moody.

Olive decides that I should go to a doctor. She's drives me down and I feel creeped out. Once we get there I'm called to "Dr. Zimmerman".

I walk in feeling squeamish, but that might just be me needing to vomit again. I keep looking at the floor.

"You?" he asks, a confused tone in his voice.

I look up at him.

You again!

The situation has been changed from uncomfortable to horrifying.

"Yeah. Me. Let's get this over with," I say coldly, glaring into the face of Dr. Last Name.

I guess I know his last name.

This immediately clicks in Olive's mind and she's fuming.

"HOW DARE YOU GET MY SISTER PREGNANT THEN LEAVE HER BROKE!!!" she screams.

Oh… crap. Olive is such a hothead.

"Wait, who are you?" Zimmerman (Last Name) asks.

"I'm April's sister… half sister. But that doesn't matter you idiot!" Olive snaps.

This ain't gonna be pretty.

"Olive, cool it! You're overreacting again," I warn her.

"Oh, sorry," she says. "But watch it, buddy, I'm a trained killer."

"Trained killer?" I ask, "Since when?"

"I have been a trained killer since I met this idiot," my sister responds, pointing to Dr. Last Name.

"Olive, you've never met him before. And we were drunk. And I've never heard of protection."

I blush.

Okay, I admit it. I'm a slut. Jeez, I wish I didn't fall asleep in health!

"Okay… I have no idea what to say on that."

I don't either.

I quickly change the subject.

"What do they do? I've never gone to a doctor before."

I give Olive a creeped out look.

Well, maybe once if you count my little clot mishap but I believe that was the emergency room.

Yeah, I know. I'm stupid.

"They just put some cold stuff on your stomach and then they do an ultrasound. It isn't that hard to do."

Oh. But Dr. Last Name is doing it! I think.

"Uh…" I look at Dr. Zimmerman, "Are you doin' this?"

This is reeeally uncomfortable because of certain circumstances. Like Chardonnay and Sherry. Yes, I know, it's been over a year but still…

"If he is I'm going there with you," Olive announces.

"Olive, I really don't don't think doctors go around and rape pregnant patients," I say flatly.

If that's what she's thinking anyway.

"April, you never know, I mean I never would have guessed that one of my first high school boyfriends was going to turn out to be a killer," Olive replies.

"SHWHA?" I ask, horrified, "KILLER?"

"It's a long storey that was a long time ago. It doesn't matter anyways."

"Okay," I say, "But I'm askin' about it later."

I try to get through the next part as fast as I possibly could, you would find it awkward too to be getting checked the man you met one night and got pregnant by who is now examining you while pregnant with your current boyfriend's baby.

The whole ordeal is eventually over and I have to wash all this crap off.

Stupid paste.

I quickly rush out after finally getting it all off. I want to get away from that guy as soon as possible. Olive's definition of that means now which would be nice.

I thought he was out of my life but NOOO. He has to show up and give me my ultrasound too, for the kid that isn't even his no less!

"Come on," I say quickly as I hop into the car, "Let's get going."

I'm still a bit freaked out by the fact that some guy I met in a club is a doctor that will give me checkups.