AN: Hiya! Thanks for all the reviews of the previous chapters. Hope you like this one! :D

My Test

Elliot is turning the calendar pages as I walk into the living room. She sighs.

"What is it?"

"I was just counting," she wistfully answers. "I only have six weeks left to work. That's scary."

"No kidding. What are you going to do for the four weeks before the baby's born?"

"Uh, sleep," Elliot laughs. "A lot. Well, that and pack boxes. That'll suck. Oh, and did you remember that we have to go to the Christening rehearsal with Turk and Carla on Friday?"

"I do now."

Izzy's Christening is this Sunday. Since Turk and Carla asked us to be her godparents, Elliot and I have to go to the church with them to find out what we have to do in the service.

"The Christening is on Sunday. This is Wednesday, which means I now only have four days to find an outfit," Elliot says, more to herself than everything else. "Fantastic."

You're probably wondering why Elliot has left it so late to find something to wear. I asked her the same thing yesterday night when she said something about having no idea what to wear. Her response was that because the baby was growing so quickly and unpredictably, she didn't want to buy something too early in case it didn't fit her by the time of the Christening and she'd have to rush to hunt down an outfit again anyway.

"Aren't you going shopping with Carla tonight?"

"Yeah," scoffs Elliot. "But trying to find any outfit that doesn't make me look like a beached whale at this point? It's a suicide mission."

"You don't look like a beached whale," I say, wrapping my arms around Elliot's waist and resting my hands on the front of the bump and my chin on her shoulder. "You're pregnant. You look beautiful."

Giving me a sideways glance, a little smile just twitching at the corners of her mouth, Elliot shakes her head before kissing me. When the moment is over, Elliot – still in my grasp – turns around and says: "So, uh, your outfit. Is it good?"

"It's good," I respond. "Suit."

"Good. I like you in a suit."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm."

Elliot and I kiss once again, but this kiss is deeper than the last.

"Whoa. Okay. PDA alert."

The kiss broken, but the embrace not, Elliot turns her head in Alyssa's direction. "Shouldn't you be at school already?"

"Nah," Alyssa answers, as she jostles her school bag further onto her shoulder. "Free period first thing, so I only need to leave just now." She's walking towards the door, but suddenly turns back. "Could I see the calendar please?"

I pass it over to Alyssa, who goes to stand at the table. As she looks at the calendar, she mumbles to herself before slightly more loudly saying: "Five days late? That's odd."

"What's five days late?" Elliot asks.

"You order a CD or something?"

With a pensively confused look across her face, Alyssa lifts her gaze from the calendar. "What? Oh, right, yeah I ordered a CD. Let's go with that…" After handing the calendar back, she says: "Okay, I have to go now. Bye." With that, Alyssa leaves the apartment.

"I guess we should think about going to work." Elliot moves to take a step away, but she doesn't get very far. "JD, let go of me."

"I don't think so."

As soon as Elliot turns around to face me, I lock my lips on hers.

Elliot sighs. "JD we have to… go to… work."

"We can be late."

"No we can't."

I'd be more convinced if I wasn't taking off her jacket and Elliot wasn't the one taking the first step further into the apartment towards the bedroom.

Yawn. School can be such a snooze sometimes. More specifically, Physics can be such a snooze. I like science (well, biology and chemistry), but there's only so much I can hear about waves without wanting to throw myself out of the window, just to have something else to do. And to make things worse, my normal boredom relief isn't here.

Normally Kate and I would spend the hour lesson gossiping and talking about the random rubbish we watched on television the night before – basically anything but physics. But, Kate has a singing lesson along in music. Lucky biatch. She isn't missing much. The teacher has just been going over some things we need to revise for a test we have next week. Which, to be honest, I think is fairly redundant considering the final is in a couple of weeks and we're all revising for it anyway. My teacher uses the excuse that she wants to know that we are actually revising. Yeah, she doesn't trust us.

I glance up at the clock. Oh, for the love of god. It's barely half way through the lesson. Somebody, please break the monotony. As if she's read my mind, Caitlyn – sitting to my right – raises her hand. Thank you, Caitlyn.

Once the teacher acknowledges her, Caitlyn asks: "When is this test?"

Good point, we haven't actually been told.

"Well," the teacher beings, "we'll have revision lessons on Thursday and Monday, and then the test the morning after."

Morning after.

"Lys… we didn't use…"

"… crap. Okay… um… I'll go to the pharmacy tomorrow morning… and I'll take the morning after pill."

I didn't take the morning after pill.

Oh crap.

"Alyssa." Caitlyn taps me on the arm. "Are you alright? The colour just drained from your face."

"Yeah. I'm-I'm-I'm fine."

Oh crap.

Never has a class gone more slowly. And I was the first one to get out of there. I need to find Kate, which is why, instead of going to the dining hall where everyone else is, I rush along to the music department. Maybe I'll find her leaving her singing lesson before she goes to the hall.

"Kate!" I see her walking out of the practice rooms.

She turns around quickly. "Hey. What's up?"

"I need to talk to you and I need to talk to you, like, now."

The smile that she previously wore disappears. "Lys, are you okay?"

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"Not here."

"Okay. Study room. Nobody'll be in there." Once we're in the study room, and she's closed the door, Kate, in a completely humourless tone, repeats the question. "What's wrong?"

"So you remember at your party how you walked in on Michael and me?"

"Remember it?" Kate says with sarcasm. "The disturbing image is burned into my brain!"

"Seriously, Kate, not the time. Okay, so I said I was going to take the morning after pill and I didn't because I couldn't remember anything about Saturday night on Sunday morning."

"Okay."

"And my period is three days late."

Kate's eyebrows are really furrowed. "O…kay."

"Do you really not see where I'm going with this?"

"Yeah, I do. Holy crap, Alyssa. You think you're pregnant?"

"I don't know! I don't know. But maybe." I pace around the room, and end up putting my hands on my head. "Oh my god."

"Have you taken a test or anything?"

"No; I only remembered half an hour ago!"

"Have you… have you said anything to Michael yet?"

"No," I reply. "What the hell would I even say? 'Hey, by the way, you know how you're supposed to be going to UCLA and I'm supposed to be going to Harvard later this year?'"

"Lys," I vaguely hear Kate say.

"'Well, there might be a slight problem with that.'"

"Lys!"

"'I might be up the damn spout!'"

"Say what now?"

"Frick." I turn around slowly and see Michael standing looking at me, jaw dropped. Then I glance to Kate. "You could've freaking warned me!"

"I tried!" Kate responds, sounding offended.

"Can we just get back to the issue here?"

"Yeah, Alyssa," Michael says, "the issue?"

I sigh. "I might – actually we might – have a problem. I might be pregnant."

"Yeah, I sort of got that!"

"Then why did you even ask?"

Kate stands in between us. "Okay, snapping at each other," she says, "not helping! You don't know that Alyssa's pregnant yet so let's all calm down." Kate turns to face me, as I drag a seat out from under the table and sit down. "Lys, a missed period doesn't necessarily automatically mean pregnancy. Okay, remember yesterday you were saying how stressed out you were between studying for exams and what's going on with your dad and everything else? Well, stress can cause it too."

"Yeah, and the fact that I had unprotected sex three weeks ago?"

"Well, then, you hope to God that it's just coincidence."

"Yeah. But what if it's not?"

The bell to signal the end of break rings loudly in contrast to the quiet of the room, acting like an answer to Michael's question.

Kate frowns, as she looks between the two of us. "Cross that bridge if and when you come to it."

It's about eight on Wednesday night when Elliot returns from shopping with Carla.

"Hey," I say, as she walks into the living room, carrying a couple of bags. "You get something then?

"Yeah," Elliot grins. "I got a whole freaking outfit – shoes and everything." She lays the bag down at the table, and glances to Alyssa, who is sitting at the table with some work in front of her.

Elliot says 'hi' to her, but Alyssa doesn't seem to register that she's even been spoken to. She just seems to be starting into oblivion.

"Lys," Elliot says again. "Lys!"

That seems to snap Alyssa out of her reverie. "What?" She says.

"Are you alright?" Elliot asks. "You were zoned out there and you had a really worried look on your face."

"What?" Alyssa still has that same look on her face. "No, I'm fine. It's just…" For a second or two, Alyssa seems to be thinking about what she's about to say. "It's just with the finals coming up, I'm a bit stressed out." Alyssa stands up, and starts gathering up her things.

"Okay," Elliot says, although I don't think she's entirely convinced. "Well, if you need any help, just talk to us, okay?"

A serious and almost… apologetic look washes across the teenager's face. "Thanks," she says, before turning around and walking towards her room.

"Strange." Elliot moves towards the couch, where I am. "Has she been like that all night?"

I nod. "I sure don't miss exam stress."

Elliot frowns. "Hmm. Doesn't just seem like exam stress to me."

Thursday break time.

I'm sitting outside on the grassy hill, mostly because I just don't feel like going into the hall again. I'm just… thinking.

My thoughts are interrupted when Kate sits down next to me.

"Any luck?" She quietly asks.

"Nope. Day six… no luck."

"It could still start, you know."

I smile just slightly. "Thanks for the optimism. I appreciate it."

"Aren't you going to eat something?"

"I'm too nervous to eat."

Kate pulls a face. "You know, if you are… you know, you should probably eat something."

"Fine." I reluctantly take an orange – which I took from home – out of my bag and begin peeling it. "What I keep thinking… is… my aunt Elliot and JD have done so much for me since I came here. My aunt took me in when she really didn't need to. I mean… if they really wanted to, she could have just sent me back to Connecticut and made me live with my grandparents. And then with everything else they have going on… they've done so much for me when they really didn't need to. I owe them so much and this is how I repay them?"

"I doubt they'd see it that way."

"How else would they see it? I'm…. I'm up the creek without a goddamn paddle."

"You don't know that yet."

"Yeah," I nod, "but I don't know I'm not."

Over the past few months, I've discovered a new hobby of sorts: cooking. Not that I often get the time for it, but when I do, I sort of find that chopping up vegetables and potatoes or whatever it is can be quite therapeutic and relaxing. Oh, and it can also be good way to let out any rage you might feel. Of course, you have to be careful that you don't accidentally get one of you fingers because, y'know, that hurts! Not that I've ever done it or anything. I'm not that stupid. Just… people have told me.

You buying this? Didn't think so… I've managed to nearly chop my fingers off a disturbing amount of times. There's a reason I didn't become a surgeon.

As I begin to bowl up the soup I made (hey, I didn't say I was a great cook, okay?), I hear the front door open and close.

"Is the whole damn world against me today?!" Elliot growls with frustration, as she steps through to the kitchen. "The soup smells good," she adds, smelling the air.

"Thanks. What happened?"

"I was at the supermarket, which I did not know had been redesigned, so I spent forty-five minutes trying to find the damn bread." Elliot vents. "Then after that I ran into Carolanne from the Lamaze class."

"Which one is she again? Wait, let me think… Dark hair. Annoying. Never shuts up?"

"That's the one," Elliot hisses. "So you can immediately understand why that pissed me off. For ten minutes she went on about her hair appointment. I was like 'Don't care. Trying to get home…' Anyway. I got caught in the world's longest queue, by which point I'm ready to tear someone's eyes out."

I begin to move out of the kitchen, carrying the soup bowls.

Still continuing her explanation, Elliot walks out too. "This, after a god awful day at work. My interns would not listen to a word I said. One intern – I had to fix his IVs three times. Mrs Dixon coded twice. Oh, and my new admit's family kept stopping me any time I was remotely near to their room to ask question, after question, after question, after question, after question. For god's sake, he had appendicitis. How many times do I need to explain what's going to happen?"

"That sucks, Elliot."

"You know, the more I think about it… the next six weeks can't pass quick enough."

It's Friday morning. School closes in two hours, and then I will go to the pharmacy and buy a test. And I'll go to that pharmacy I went to the last time, because nobody I know goes there, which really limits the chance of anybody seeing me there. Then, I'll go home where nobody else - at least nobody that I don't want to find out about this – will be, take the test, get it over and done with and then move away from this.

Unless, of course…

I'm sitting in the hall today, because, even though I would like to be sitting outside on my own and trying to figure what the hell I'm going to, my friends have started to notice that I'm – in their words – acting weird. And they keep asking me if I'm okay and if they don't stop, I'm going to end up snapping and blurting out something that I really don't want to.

"So is everybody still up for going to the restaurant tonight?" Madison – one of my other friends – says.

Damn. I completely forgot about that. Which is hardly surprising considering I haven't exactly been thinking of much else other than what the in the hell is going to happen.

I've barely slept in the last two nights either. I'm too nervous. That butterflies feeling – it just won't go away.

You're probably wondering why I haven't taken a damn pregnancy test before now. Well, I don't want anyone to find out about this – not unless, you know, they have to. Which means I haven't been able to take one at home because there has always been somebody in. And taking a test at school – are you kidding me?

The other people at the table with me say their agreement to being there to night. And then everybody seems to be looking at me.

"I don't know. I'll see."

My friends look at me dejectedly.

"How come?" one of them asks. "You were really up for it last week."

Yeah, that was last week, when life was simple. This is a whole other time. "Look, there's something I need to do after school… and it depends how that goes whether I'll be able to make it or not."

"You could still go, though," Madison resounds. "Even if you're gonna be late, we won't mind."

You'd think when they know that I'm sort of on a short straw – even if they don't know why – they'd just take my first answer. "It's more a case of depending on how what I have to do goes, I might feel differently about going. Because if what I have to do goes the way I'm hoping it doesn't but how I'm thinking it will, I really will not be up for going out tonight." I can feel myself started to freak out, even more than I already have been since Wednesday.

Kate looks at me, as if to say calm down. Then she says: "Just drop it, guys. If she can't go, she can't go. Leave it at that."

"C'mon Lys, you've got to come," Madison says. "It's our group's thing; all going out together at least once a month. So will you be there?"

Madison, you really are pissing me off. "I don't know." I don't know anything.

"Please, Lys?"

"Oh, for god sake, will you just leave it?!" I snap, before hurriedly walking away from the table and going outside, where I wanted to go in the first place. But I don't walk up to he hill where I've been sitting the last few days. To be honest, I'm not really sure where I'm going. I'm just walking. When I hear footsteps close behind me, I spin around.

"Lys, are you alright?" Michael asks, as he catches up to me. He wasn't at the table originally because he was in Tech or somewhere else finishing off work. "You just stormed past me."

I didn't even notice he was there.

"Are you okay?"

No. "I can't take it anymore!" I can feel my eyes just starting to nip because of the tears that are starting to fill them. "I can't take any more of this damned uncertainty."

Michael doesn't actually say anything. Instead, he just looks at me closely, before putting his arms around me and letting me cry into his sweater.

"Whatever happens," he whispers, "it'll be okay."

"Yeah?" I hiccup. "I wish I could believe you."

Oh my god, I can't believe I'm here again.

This pharmacy isn't any different to how it was the last time I was here just over six months ago. Everything's laid out exactly the same. The only difference is that this time, I'm not dressed in a fairy costume, and I'm not buying a pregnancy test for somebody else.

The quicker I can get out of here, the better. I really don't want to be here.

I pick up a test, before heading to the counter and – Oh damn. It's the same old woman that served me the last time I was here. I try to keep my head down at the counter, but it's useless.

"Hey, I remember you," she says. "You're the girl who looked like a marshmallow."

"I was a fairy."

"Yeah, and you were buying one of these. You'd think you'd learn after last time."

I accidentally scoff.

"Or let me guess. It's still not for you?"

"Look, could you just let me pay, for god sakes?" I snap. "Thank you," I say, once the woman gives me back my change and the plastic bag. I begin to walk out of the pharmacy.

Pissing on a stick – not an experience I ever wish to repeat. Nor do I ever want to repeat the experience of the next two minutes. I open the bathroom door, and step out, leaving the test in the bathroom. I really don't want to stare at the thing for the two minutes, which I will do if I stay in the same room.

"Have you set the timer?" I ask Kate, when I step back though to the living room where she and Michael are sitting.

Michael's here for obvious reasons. Kate's acting as the much-needed moral support.

"Yep," Kate says, resting her phone on the table.

As I nervously exhale, I look around the room. There's got to be something in this room to keep me occupied for the next two minutes, right? Wrong… So instead I start pacing around the room.

It's so quiet in here that all I can here is breathing and my own freaking footsteps, which is not helping with the nerves.

"How long now?" The fear is clear in my voice.

Kate glances down that the cell phone-turned-stopwatch. "One minute, fifty seconds."

Only ten seconds have passed? Are you kidding me? I start pacing again. There is no worse sound in the world than the sound of my own footsteps thumping on the ground. Or at least I can't think of one just now.

During my nervous pacing, I glance at Michael repeatedly. He looks so anxious too. It's hardly surprising. He's a lot more stagnant with his nerves than I am. He just sits on the arm of the sofa, looking out of the living room window. He's not staring vacantly though. It's like… he's actually looking at his concern.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record: "How long now?"

"A minute, ten seconds."

I stand still. Okay, that's progress, I guess. And back to the pacing I go.

It's quiet. Too quiet.

Pace. Pace. Pace.

"So, what are we all eating at the restaurant tonight?" I blurt, because it's the first thing that springs to my mind other than the continuous, monotonous screaming that I've been putting up with recently.

Kate is the first to answer. She gets that the conversation is meant to be silence breaking, because she doesn't give me the confused look I was expecting. "I think I'm gonna have the chicken," she nods.

"Yeah? Which sauce?"

"Barbecue."

"You know, I heard the Chinese sauce is good," Michael adds.

The quiet starts to return, but before it has a chance to really set in – "I think I'm gonna get the pizza."

"Which kind?" Michael asks me.

"I think the Margharita. But then I had that the last time we all went out. So maybe I'll get the four cheese. But then it'll end up being too cheesy – what with it being four cheese and all – and I'll only eat half of it, so it really would be a waste of money. So maybe I'll get the pepperoni. Although they always put a tonne of onion of the pizza for no apparent reason, so maybe I won't get the pizza at all then. Maybe I'll get the spaghetti. Oh, or maybe –"

Whatever I'm saying (I stopped paying attention to myself about three words in) is interrupted by the alarm emitting from Kate's phone, telling us that the two minutes is up.

"Oh, god." The words leave my mouth quickly, like I haven't even had to think about saying them. "I can do this. I can do this." With large intake of breath (the courage has to come from somewhere, why can't it come from the air?), I begin my short walk back to the bathroom. Well, the walk should've been short, but it feels like it has taken me an eternity.

And now, I'm standing at the brink. I'm standing on the threshold of the bathroom. I can see the test sitting there, but it seems more like it's staring at me. My knees are shaking. In spite of this, I motion to take a step. My foot just about rises from the ground. I'm just standing there one foot over the precipice, ready to take the fall into reality. "I can't do it!" Disappointed in myself for that – and for so many other things, really – I walk back into the living room. "I can't look." I was crying this morning because I couldn't handle anymore of the unknown, but ironically now I don't want to know. What the hell is wrong with me?

Without having to say anything, Kate stands from her seat, and walks through to the bathroom. And she walks straight in – not hovering at the door like I was.

I'm not sure how it happens – whether I walked over to him or he walked over to me or we both walked over to each other – but I find myself hugging Michael.

And we're still waiting on Kate to walk back out of the bathroom. I don't know whether to read that as a good sign or a bad sign.

Almost as if telepathy was a form of communication, Kate emerges from the room. "Well, there's good news and bad news," she says. I can't tell from her tone if she's being sarcastic or serious. "The good news is you're not pregnant. The bad news is I'm going to use up all your soap because I touched the thing."

"Go… go back to the first point," I quietly say.

"First point? Oh, right. You're not pregnant. And I'll be back in like… an hour once I sterilise my hands." Kate disappears.

You'd think there'd be some comment of… relief or happiness or I don't know, some other emotion, but there isn't. There's just shocked silence. Don't me wrong; you can sense that relief that we're both feeling. Maybe it's that only now that we both know what the outcome is, the whole gravity of what-could've-been is actually hitting us. I'm relieved, yes, but I'm not happy, because I know that it could've just as easily gone the other way and it's only chance that it's worked out the way that I wanted it to. Nothing but luck.

Michael and I don't talk for a while. It's not uncomfortable. It's just… quiet. The atmosphere is too serious.

"Well," I quietly sigh, just because it's the only thing I can think to do.

"We dodged a bullet."

I simply nod.

The church that Izzy will be christened in is really lovely. It's so bright and airy, and the sun shining in through the stain glass windows gives the room a nice orange colour, like the colour of a sunset.

We all sit at the front of the church, where the pew rows are at a ninety-degree angle to each other, waiting for the minister to come to talk to us, who Elliot and I have yet to meet.

Izzy is getting restless, sitting on Carla's knee. She looks around, curiously eyeing up everything around her. Then, she grumbles and pulls one of those faces that only babies can get away with.

"What is it, sweetie?" Carla asks the little girl, just looking over her shoulder.

Izzy struggles to get away from Carla, trying to slide herself off of her mom's knee.

"Okay then, little one."

As soon as Carla lets her two feet touch the ground, Izzy is off like a shot, running as fast as her little legs can take her across the church. When she reaches the wall at the other side, she stops and turns around, a cheeky little grin on her face. God, she's cute. Izzy starts running again, but instead of running to Turk or Carla, she runs straight towards me, and I lift her up above my head. Izzy's giggle fills the entire church.

As I lower Izzy back to the ground, I glance to Elliot, who is watching with a weird look on her face. I can't really describe it, but she's smiling.

"What it is?" I quietly ask her.

With the same smile still on her face, Elliot replies, "You're really good with her."

While we all continue to watch Izzy as she explores the church, the loud footsteps of the minister walk up the aisle. Carla calls Izzy back to her, and all the adults stand up.

The minister is an older man – maybe in his early fifties. He almost reminds me of Ted, with his bald shiny head. There's one major difference, however. He seems happy. "Hello, I'm Reverend Povey," he smiles, shakes Turk's hand and then Carla's. "Ah, and these must be the godparents," he says, looking between Elliot and me. He holds out his hand for me to shake.

I oblige. "John Dorian."

Elliot also introduces herself and shakes the reverend's hand, after which the minister smiles.

"And I see that there's another little one on the way too."

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Elliot glances to me.

Oh god, she's going to do it, isn't she?

"No."

Turk and Carla exchange confused glances, before looking to us, but that isn't the funny part.

"Oh," the reverend's jaw drops. "I, um, I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Elliot nervously says. "I was kidding."

Credit where credit's due, Rev. Povey takes the joke as it was meant and begins laughing.

Turk, rolling his eyes but laughing at the same, says, "Yeah, we're sorry about her, by the way."

"So when is the little one due?"

"Ten weeks," Elliot grins.

"Ah, so it's pretty close. And will this little one be getting christened too?"

Elliot and I look at each other.

"Actually, we haven't really spoken about that, yet," I answer.

"Oh, so…" the minister looks between the two of us. "I had just assumed you weren't married because of the different surnames."

"I.. uh, we…"

"Aren't married," Elliot concludes.

The smile falls from the reverend's face. "Oh. Well, um… if you'd all like to follow me where we can discuss arrangements for Isabella's Christening."

The minister walks down the corridor, while Turk and Carla throw us amused and sadistic expressions.

"That was awkward," I quietly mumble to Elliot.

So, Michael and I haven't really spoken since… that. To be honest, we're both still reeling from the whole thing that neither of us really knew what to say. It wasn't awkward silence though; I will say that. I was also concentrating on driving. Because I've only recently passed my driving test, I'm not a brilliantly confident driver yet so all my concentration goes into what I'm doing.

After everything, I didn't particularly feel like going out tonight. I could've done with just chilling out. Or sleeping. Sleeping would have been fun. But Kate convinced me with logic of 'It'll be fun to hang out with everybody' and 'You need to chillax, dude'. I'm pretty sure she's said that too me once before and look where it got me. The argument that actually got me was 'We're already late (which we were by the time I was persuaded to go, but as it turned out, so was everybody else) and you have a car.' She was kidding though. I think.

My reluctance to come out aside, it has turned to be a really good night. Just talking and laughing with everyone has just cheered everything up. There is just one little problem, however.

It is a thousand degrees in that freaking restaurant! The air conditioning is apparently broken, hence the temperature. The good news is though, that the manager is taking forty percent off the total bill for everyone in the restaurant. And by that I mean, the two tables that didn't just about turn and leave as soon as they walked in. We were tempted to, but the offer of such a big discount for a ten-person table was just too good an offer to pass up, even if we are going out in groups every few minutes, just to cool off. Which is exactly where I am now. There are three of us out just now. In truth, it's not that much cooler out here than it is in there, but at least you get some air.

Kate is rummaging in her bag.

"What are you looking for?" Madison asks her.

"My keys," she responds. "I can't find them. And I'm sure I brought them out with me. I must've, because I had to lock the door when I left." She looks up at me. "Maybe I left them at yours."

"You went to Alyssa's?" Madison asks.

"Yeah," I respond, as Kate continues to search through her bag. "But I don't remember you ever having your keys out at mine."

Kate gives a sarcastic laugh. "To be fair Lys, you probably weren't paying attention to much else other than your pacing around your apartment."

"True."

"Why were you pacing?"

I shake my head to answer Madison's question. "Don't ask."

Just at the same time, Michael walks out of the restaurant. "Hey. The waiter just brought over some more drinks." When he speaks, he's looking right at me.

"Awesome." Kate and Madison head towards the door, but I don't.

Kate stops. "Aren't you guys coming in?"

"We'll be in in a minute," I respond.

Kate hovers for a second, before walking back into the restaurant. Once she does, Michael walks over and stands next to where I am, leaning with my back against the restaurant wall.

"Crazy day," he mutters.

"No kidding. If that… if that test has been positive… what the hell would we have done?"

Michael exhales loudly. "I don't know. Panic?"

"And cry some," I add.

"My parents would've killed me if I had gotten you… you know."

"Your parents?" I say. "That would only have been if my family hadn't found you first. You've met my grandfather, right? There's a reason my aunt still hasn't told him."

"Seriously?"

"Yep." There are a few seconds of silence and then I sigh. "We have got to be more careful."

"We can't have this happening again."

The silence returns.

"You want to go back inside?" I say, a minute later.

Michael nods. As we make the really short walk back to the restaurant door, Michael puts his arm around my shoulders.

Every few minutes in the car ride home, Elliot and I crumbled into laughter. It's quite difficult to drive and laugh. And we're still laughing as we walk back into the apartment.

"I just keep picturing the reverend's face over and over again in my head," Elliot says, giggling slightly at the end. "Priceless."

"It's one of those moments that you just wish you'd had a camera at," I add as I take off my shoes.

Elliot walks into the kitchen, and I hear her flicking the kettle on. "That reminds me. We need to take the camera on Sunday."

"Yeah. Is there any cough syrup in the medicine cupboard?" My throat has been sore all day and I really can't be getting a cold now. Turk and Carla would not be amused.

A few seconds later, I hear the cupboard door closing and Elliot answering. "Nope, sorry. There might still be some in the bathroom cabinet from when we all had the flu."

That's probably a safe bet. We both kept remembering to take the medicine just before brushing our teeth, so to save having to walk back through to the kitchen (because we're just that lazy), Elliot left a bottle of cough syrup in the bathroom cabinet.

Damn. "Nope. None there. I'll walk around to the pharmacy and buy some more." Just as I close the cabinet door, something catches my eye. There's a box lying on the floor. I don't recognise it, so I kneel down to pick it up. "Pregnancy test?" I mutter, reading the writing on the box.

When I walk back through, carrying the box, I see that Elliot is in the living room, sitting on the couch and sipping at her drink.

"Hot blackcurrant," she says, nodding towards the other cup sitting on the coffee table. "Enjoy. It might make your throat feel better." Her eyes drift to the box in my hand. "What's that?"

I pass the box to her.

Elliot raises her eyebrows after reading the writing on it. "Well, it's obviously not mine, and I'm hoping it's not yours."

"Which means…" I trail off, and Elliot and I both look at the closed door of Alyssa's room.

As a shocked look spreads across Elliot's face, she says, "That can't be good."

Sigh. Tonight ended up being such a laugh. After being in such a panic, it was great just to have a laugh. Or it was until the subject of the party at Kate's was raised (but not the consequences, thank god) and then we all ended up taking vows of sobriety on napkins. It was weird, but I plan on sticking to it nonetheless.

Kate and Michael are coming back to mine for a little while. Just because. Well, why not? Plus, Kate still needs to find her house key.

"So, if your key isn't here, will you be able to get in?" Michael asks Kate as we all step onto the landing of the apartment floor.

"Yeah," she answers with a sigh. "My parents will be in. They'll just be pissed because I lost my key."

"That'll suck," I say, as I open the door to the apartment. I walk in – Michael and Kate following me – and I see my aunt sitting on the couch. "Hey. How was the Christening thing?"

"It was okay," she answers, looking over the top of the couch. "How was your day?" She asks, but I get the feeling she's trying to imply something. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"Uh, no."

My aunt has a serious look on her face, and she looks between Michael and me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah…"

The next response is my aunt lifting a box over the top of the couch. "Are you really sure?"

I recognise the box instantly. It's the pregnancy test box. Crap. "Um…"

"I think we need to be having a little chat," Elliot says.

Kate and Michael are still standing behind me.

"I guess we should, um, go," Kate nervously says.

I hear Kate and Michael turning around but they don't get very far.

"Yeah, I don't think so," JD says. How did he manage that? "You're not going anywhere."

"Even me?" Kate asks.

"No, Kate, you're free to go. But Michael, my friend, you'll be staying here."

Oh, dear god.

I think the words 'deer caught in headlights' are the only applicable words to describe the looks on both Alyssa's and Michael's faces.

"Now that Kate's gone," I say, "I think the two of you should sit down."

As the make their way to the table, Alyssa says to Michael: "Sure. The actual test I throw away, but I leave the box to be found. Could I be any more of an idiot?"

I assume the question was rhetorical. Elliot on the other hand…

"I'll answer that on for you Alyssa, shall I? No, you really couldn't be more of an idiot. God. What the hell is this, Alyssa? Is this just some sort of teenage rebellion you're going through? Or are you trying to test my patience? First the drinking and now this?"

"If you want to get technical about it, this is still to do with the drinking…"

Alyssa's statement is answered by an outright glare from Elliot, which causes Alyssa to look right down at the table.

"And you." Elliot snaps her fingers at Michael. "What are you planning to do?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Aunt Elliot, I-" Alyssa is interrupted.

"Well, are you going to be there for Alyssa? Are you gonna be there for the kid? By the way, what are you two planning on doing about the kid? Are you keeping it? What are you doing?"

"Um… nothing."

"What?"

"I'd imagine we're going to do nothing because I'm not pregnant," Alyssa says. "But can I just say that, considering the source, the support I would have got is overwhelming."

Elliot lowers her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

"As someone who is unexpectedly pregnant herself, it seems a little hypocritical that you're yelling at me."

"Alyssa, there is a massive difference between me being thirty and you being seventeen."

"Yeah. But you were still pissed at me for doing something that you'd done," Alyssa responds. "That's hypocritical. By the way, I have to ask: How quickly did you jump to the conclusion that I was pregnant?"

There's no response from Elliot.

"Which brings me to my next question. If I had been pregnant, what would you have said to me?"

"What I might or might not have said is irrelevant," Elliot says, after another few minutes of silence. Her fists are clenched and she's obviously trying to keep herself calm. "The point is that your behaviour recently- "

Alyssa rolls her eyes. "My behaviour recently? For god sake, I got came home drunk once, for which I've already apologised profusely. Seriously. Any time I do the slightest thing wrong, is that going to be held over my head?"

"Hey! Watch your tone! How about remembering who the adult is here?"

"Adult, or hypocrite?"

And then the argument basically explodes. Elliot says one thing, Alyssa says another and the pace of talking (read: shouting) is so quick that the other two of us in the room can't actually keep up with what is being said.

"You think this is bad," I say to a dumbfounded Michael, who is staring at the scene in front of him. "Imagine what she'll do to you if you ever do anything to hurt Alyssa again. You have been warned."

That was hellish. It really was. I don't blame my aunt for being angry with me. I'd be angry with me. I am angry with myself. What the hell have I been playing at recently? And all that answering back? Seriously?

I hate arguments.

After all the crap rained down and Michael went home (evidently scared witless of my aunt), I went to my room to try to study, but instead I've been thinking more about what a jackass I've been lately. Self-loathing sucks.

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It's nearly ten-thirty and I'm feeling pretty tired. It's been a long day. I think I'll give up on the studying for tonight. None of it's going into my brain anyway.

There's a knock at my bedroom door.

"Come in?"

My aunt walks into my room and closes the door behind her. "Here's what's going to happen," she says. "On Monday, you're going to make an appointment with the family doctor, and you're going to ask to be prescribed the contraceptive pill because you're in an adult relationship and don't want to get pregnant. Okay?"

"Okay," I respond.

My aunt walks further into my room and takes a seat on my bed, facing me. "Look, I don't want to patronise you by getting up on my high horse like I did earlier, because I know I'm hardly the greatest role model here." My aunt sighs. "But the last month with the drinking and with this… it seems out of character for you, which worries me. But I also know you haven't exactly had it easy for the last few months, which shouldn't be an excuse, but things do affect your behaviour sometimes."

"I'm sorry. And for all the argument and back talk earlier… I shouldn't have said what I did. I'm sorry. "

"I know you are. And I'm sorry for some of the things I said too." Aunt Elliot pauses for a second. "I just… Alyssa, I just don't want to see you screw up your life when there's so much you've still got to do. So… can you promise me that you're going to be more careful from now on?"

"Yeah. I promise."

"Okay then." My aunt stands up and walks towards the door.

"Aunt Elliot?" When she turns around, I continue. "Thanks for… everything, really. You've basically become the mom I've never really had. So… thanks."

My aunt smiles at me. "You're welcome, honey."

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