"Boo."

Vienna jumps in her seat and whirls around, putting a hand to her chest. She relaxes when she sees it's just me. "Dick move Kennedy."

I laugh and take a seat next to her. "You're actually in the library during your free period without me having to force you? Wow."

"I had to work on something," she says, turning back to her laptop. I peer at the screen.

"You're changing your major?" I keep reading the screen, then grin. Vienna gives me a quick look.

"What?"

"What do you mean 'what?' You're applying to the NYU Tisch School of Arts!"

"Don't make it a big deal," she mutters. "I probably won't even make it past auditions."

"Bullshit. They'd be crazy not to accept you."

"We'll see," Vienna continues to type. "Do you think I'm insane for doing this?"

I shake my head. "Absolutely not! It's about time you started living for you, and I couldn't be more proud."

"You won't be saying that in thirty years when I'm homeless and broke because I didn't choose a 'sensible' major."

I roll my eyes. "And I thought I was the negative Nancy."

"Must be freaky Friday."

I pull out my own laptop. "When are you gonna be un-grounded? We need to go dress shopping soon."

Vienna shakes her head. "Never. And since I'm moving out, I really don't give a fuck anymore. Let's go after school today."

"What about your bodyguard?"

She grins. "I have a plan to ditch him."

"Well I hope it's a good one. The man looks like he used to be a pro wrestler."

"Trust me. I got this."

...

"This was your plan? I knew I shouldn't have trusted you."

"Just shut up and move your ass," Vienna struggles to lift me up. "You're not exactly light here."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Kennedy!"

The things I do for friendship, I thought as I used all my strength to hoist myself over the fence. Vienna's brilliant escape plan consisted of us climbing over the fence at the back of the school. We couldn't sneak out through the front for obvious reasons and the side exists weren't an option either because her bodyguard could still catch us. This way by the time he caught on, we'd be long gone.

"What if your parents installed a tracking device inside you?" I laugh as I swing my legs over the side of the fence. Now I just have to jump down. Easier said than done in a skirt, but I somehow manage.

"Then I was probably drugged and unconscious, because I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that," Vienna replies. "And since I have no phone, there's no other way to track me," She jumps down next to me. "Now let's book it."

We race to the meeting point where I instructed Charles to pick us up and scramble into the car. We'll be going to fifth avenue and hitting up a different shops. Once again I have no idea what I'm looking for, but I want something with blue for sure.

"Does this dress make me look fat?" Vienna steps out of the fitting room in a silver dress. I stare at her in shock for a second before bursting into laughter.

"Seriously? You did not just ask me that."

"I'm serious!" She crosses her arms. "I feel like I've been gaining a lot of weight lately."

"You probably just ate too much turkey over break. Or maybe it's your birth control. I noticed I've been gaining some weight too since I got on it."

"Really? Because I feel like I'd be one of those unlucky ones whose fat goes to their stomach or arms instead of somewhere useful, like my thighs, chest, or ass."

"You have nothing to worry about," I assure her. "Besides you're a dancer. You'll lose the weight in no time."

"And what about you? Tennis season is over you know."

I smile. "Then I'll just hit up the gym."

We try on a couple more dresses but none of them are to our liking, so we head on over to the next store. There, Vienna finds a stunning high low black lace dress while I find nothing, so we continue on our journey.

"At this rate I might be going home empty handed," I joke while scouring the racks. Nothing stands out to me at all.

"Yeah maybe-" Vienna starts to agree then pauses. "Wait...I know you said you wanted something blue or silver but take a look at this..." I turn to her just as she pulls out a gorgeous green evening dress. The dress is floor length, with a jeweled neckline, long capped sleeves, and lace up zipper. It's mostly made of tulle lace and has an intricate lace sequined beading.

"It's beautiful," I whisper, running my hands over the dress.

"It matches your eyes perfectly," Vienna grins. "And with your hair, I'm imaging an elegant updo or maybe pinned up whimsical curls..."

I laugh. "I see all the dance planning is a starting to get you."

"Winston will drop dead when he sees you in this."

"I certainly hope not," I take the dress from her with a chuckle. "Let me just try it on."

Turns out the dress is a perfect fit, almost like it was made for me. I'm already mentally enlisting Cecilia to help with my hair and makeup. In the end I purchase the dress. Though it's not what I had in mind when we first started shopping, it's exactly what I needed. Plus I bet half the student body will be wearing blue or silver, so I'll definitely stand out.

"Let's stop here really fast," Vienna pulls me toward a convenience store. "I'm craving chocolate."

"Is it that time of the month?" I tease.

"No," she looks thoughtful. "I'm just really craving chocolate," she furrows her brows. "And a spicy pickle."

I wrinkle my nose. "Ew. Gross. You don't even like pickles."

"Yeah. But all of a sudden I'm salivating at the thought of one."

I follow her into the store and the bell chimes over our heads as we enter. Vienna loads her basket with an assortment of chocolates and a spicy pickle. Meanwhile I select a package of Red Vines. As we're walking back to the register Vienna suddenly stops.

"Hey Kennedy...what would you do if you found out you were pregnant?"

"Probably kill myself," I say jokingly. "But in all honesty, I have no idea what I'd do. The baby would be Winston's obviously, and I don't know if he wants kids. We'd make a cute ass baby though."

"Do you want kids?"

"Uh, maybe. I don't know. Definitely not right now," I pause. "Why the sudden talk of babies?"

Vienna grins and holds up a pregnancy test. I realize we're by the women's personal products. "You should take a test."

I furrow my brows. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"To see if you're pregnant obviously."

"I'm not going to waste my money on a pregnancy test when I'm not pregnant," I frown. "And what the hell makes you think I am anyway?"

"I don't, but it could be fun. I'll take one too."

I look at Vienna as if she's grown a second head. What's wrong with her? This doesn't even sound remotely fun. I gently touch her arm.

"Are you okay? Is the polluted air getting to you?"

She laughs. "Very funny. Seriously, let's take them together."

"Vienna, I don't know what's gotten into you, but I'm not taking a pregnancy test because I'm not pregnant," I repeat the last part firmly. I take my birth control pills like clockwork, and sometimes Winston still uses a condom just so we're extra safe. There's no way I'm pregnant.

"Kennedy, it's scientifically proven that all forms of contraceptives are only ninety-nine point nine percent effective. And what if Winston has super sperm or something?"

"Double ew. Please don't ever mention Winston's sperm again."

Vienna shakes the pregnancy test and I roll my eyes, snatching it from her. "Fine, I'll take the stupid test with you. But only because I'm confident that I'm not pregnant and that you've been inhaling too much paint vapor."

We purchase our goodies and then head on over to the bathrooms. There's only one.

"I'll go first," Vienna volunteers. I wait outside, and five minutes later she emerges.

"So. What are your results?"

"I didn't look yet. I wanna read them together."

Rolling my eyes again I enter the bathroom and lock the door behind me. The instructions on the box are simple enough. Pee on stick. Wait for results. One line meant negative, two lines meant positive.

Even though I know Vienna is being ridiculous, I can't help the doubt that starts to creep in as I pee. What if by some unfortunate turn of events I really am pregnant? The thought never occurred to me because Winston and I have been so safe, but the only way to truly be safe is to practice abstinence, and obviously we hadn't. My stomach twists in knots. I can't be pregnant, I just can't. As dramatic as it may sound, my entire life would be over before it even began. I'm pro-choice, but if it came down to it, would I really be able to go through with an abortion? If not, then I'd go through with the pregnancy. And everyone knows once you become a mother, it's not just about you anymore. Where would that leave me? What about Yale? What about my political dreams? It's hard enough to be taken seriously as a woman in politics, so image me with a baby saddled on my hip. I'd be a laughing stock. The stupid little eighteen year old girl who got knocked up by her older boyfriend. My life would no longer be mine, and even though it wouldn't be be the baby's fault, I just know I'd end up resenting him or her. 

Not to mention my family. My heart twists painfully imagining their disappointment. I feel shame just thinking about it. And Winston... a baby would do more harm than good to our relationship. He's going through so much stress already with his dad and the company, adding a baby to the mix would be a recipe for disaster. Of course knowing the type of guy Winston is, he would try be as supportive as he could be, but eventually it would wear down on him. On us. And that's when our relationship would be broken beyond repair.

By the time I'm done peeing and flushing the toilet, I've officially induced a self made, full blown panic attack.

"Finally," Vienna says when I open the bathroom door. "You ready?"

I take a deep breath. "Let's just get this over with."

"On the count of three we look. One...two...three!"

I slowly peer down at my test as all the air in my lungs leaves me.

One line. I'm not pregnant.

Slowly I break out into a grin. I'm not pregnant, I'm not pregnant! I break out into Snoopy's happy dance, feeling absolutely thrilled. I'm so wrapped up in my own joy I don't even notice Vienna hasn't said a word yet.

I stop dancing, breathless. "What does your test say? Negative right?"

Vienna looks up at me, her eyes dazed and unfocused. "No. Positive."

I freeze. What?

"Positive?" I repeat. "That can't be right. Maybe it's a fluke."

She nods, as if that's the answer. "Yeah, that's probably it. Take another one with me?"

I agree, and we both buy two more tests. Mine comes out negative again, and Vienna's says positive. Which doesn't make sense. Because she isn't pregnant. We both stare at her test, dumbfounded.

She shakes her head vigorously. "No, no, no, this can't be right. I'm buying another one."

I try to stop her but she shakes me off. I wait outside the restroom while she takes the test, anxiously wringing my hands together. She bought a different brand, so we could be sure this wasn't just a faulty test. What's that saying again? Once is chance, twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern.

When Vienna opens the door again her eyes are red rimmed. "What does it say?" I whisper, although I already know the answer.

"It says I'm pregnant," her voice cracks. "But I-I don't understand. I've never missed any one of my pills. I always take them on time."

I almost say that all forms of birth control are only ninety-nine point nine percent effective, but I don't think this is a good time to be throwing her words back in her face. In fact, I don't even know what to say, because I'm just as shocked as she is. The situation is twistingly ironic. Vienna wanted me to take a test because she thought I was pregnant, when in reality she was the one who was pregnant.

"Have you noticed any symptoms?" I finally ask in a gentle voice. "Nausea, vomiting?"

Vienna shakes her head. "No. Just cravings and weight gain, but I thought that was normal. I didn't think it was because I was pregnant," she chokes on the last word.

Then she bursts into tears.

I take her into my arms as she cries into my shoulder. I've never seen Vienna cry like this before, not even after the sugar plum dance incident or when we were almost killed, so to see her like this—her body racking with the intensity of her sobs—scares me.

I want to tell her everything will be okay, but how can I when I don't know if it will be?

...