The Silence Is Loud
"Are you sure you're alright?" a voice called from outside the bathroom, and she sighed, resting her head into her arms. "I can cover the classes, you know. It's not like it's ballet or Pointe. It's jazz, hip hop, and Zumba. And we aren't learning routines yet so–."
"Emil, please," the shorthaired blonde mutter, frowning against her pale skin and resisting the urge to hurl again. It was no use, and she groaned in pain. It wasn't like she had eaten anything today – she had no appetite – and it wasn't as if she had been hangover most of the day, either. Why she had suddenly come down with a stomach virus was beyond her. "I'm fine." She gurgled that last statement after vomiting practically water and soda.
"That sounded attractive." She could see his smug grin and violet eyes rolling. "Luke is lucky I'm gay or I'd snatch you away all for myself." When she could finally stand up on her own she grabbed her bottle of water and began to rinse out her mouth. Washing her hands, she turned off the lights and opened the door. Usually, it was just them there because she always wanted to work on things before class started.
"How are you, Mathilde?" the silver haired boy asked, flipping through his textbook and looked up. "You look like hell. You sound like hell. If you're going to vomit half the night, then please go home. I told you I can cover your classes. I assist hip hop, anyway." She rolled her eyes and made her way into the office. Slamming his book shut, he followed in suit of the dirty blonde. "Now Mathilde, don't be like that."
"I've been sick for days. It's usually just in the morning, but sometimes..."
"Just in the morning?" Emil quirked a pale eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Please, Mathilde, restate that in your head and think about the possibilities for morning sickness." Mathilde thought, running a hand through her short hair.
And she thought…
"Oh no." She bit her lip and tossed Emil her lesson notebook. "Here," she said. "The one with the pink sticky note is today's classes." Grabbing her coat and keys, she rushed out of the studio and to her car.
* * *
"Aren't you home early, Mathilde?" examining her pale apperance, he frowned. The platinum blond was starting to really worry about this stomach flu ordeal going on. "Mathilde?" crossing his arms, he said, "If you don't answer me I swear I'm gonna..."
"I couldn't wait…" she mumbled, and then pulled from her purse a plastic bag. "I just had to know. I just had to." She walked over to the taller man, handing him the bag and then walking into the kitchen. He examined the contents of the bag and frowned.
He was greeted by five different kinds of sticks, each of them agreeing with the other. He saw a pink plus, two pink lines, the word spelt out in front of him, a fucking smiley face, and another plus sign, this time in big bold black print.
Reentering from the kitchen, she began to peel the banana and looked over to see his reaction. However, her boyfriend was extremely good at keep his emotions under wrap and his blank expression told her nothing.
"So," he cleared his throat. "Are you sure? I mean…"
"Five different tests – because that was all my pocket money could get me – says yes. I'm pretty fucking sure." He watched her bite the fruit like it was about to shank her and he felt uneasy. "Now the better question is what are we going to do?"
"I want to have an actual doctor confirm it."
"Look, I worked everything out in the car," Mathilde grabbed her planner and opened it. "Today is the second of June, correct?" Lukas nodded, cobalt eyes on the markings made on the calendar. "Okay, since I was young and my mom had me on the pill, my period always came the first of the month. It has never been off."
Flipping back, she pointed to the first of May, and said, "Usually, it lasts about six or seven days." She moved her finger to May 7th and May 8th. "Now, I was in Minnesota until May 10th, so that eliminates two days where we had sex. However, my fertility window was May 11th."
Lukas bit his lip. He never understood how girls knew these things or how they remembered these details, but he assumed it was just so they knew when it was coming and who to take their bitchiness out on.
"We had sex…" she tapped her chin. "May 11th, May 15th, and May 16th for sure."
"May 19th,” he added, pointing to the Tuesday. "I also think we may have May 21st, but I don’t remember."
"The twenty-first was the last day of my fertility window." She ran her finger over the paper and began to count. "And I started having symptoms last week. So any of those days could be a possible conception date."
Lukas frowned again and said, "Okay, so," he paused. "Mathilde, this is all very convincing, but…"
"You still want the doctor to confirm it."
"Yes! Not that I don't trust that you don't know your body…" he rubbed the back of his head. "It's just… I don't know… and if you are pregnant, then it would be best to talk to a doctor about it."
"Why are you so determined to say I'm not pregnant?" she hissed, crossing her arms. "I mean, I'm just as worried as you are."
"I don't mean it like that." She rolled her eyes and he sighed, wrapping his arms around her waist, saying, "We're going to the doctor tomorrow. I'll call and make an appointment. Then, after that, we can decide what we want to do about it."
Pushing him off of her, she said, "I’m going to bed. Good night, Lukas." He watched her walk away and heard a loud slam to indicate she was in bed and she was in no mood to play games. Confused as to what he did exactly, he ignored it and made the appointment before entering the bedroom.
"You’re appointment is at three."
"Thanks." She tossed the pillow at him and threw the quilt over at him as well. "Now get out." He frowned, making sure it was big enough that she saw his displeasure and he closed the door.
"What did I do?"
He really hoped it was just PMS and not pregnancy. He might not be able to last nine months with her.