“Wait,” I say. “Has it occurred to you Serena probably won’t be happy to see you right now?”
She blinks up at me but her mind isn’t registering the warning. “No,” she says. “We’re family.”
“Yeah, and people can really hate their families sometimes. Most domestic violence is family related,” I say. “Even homicides.”
“Gray, can we earmark this conversation because it’s fascinating, but now is not the time.” She pushes me away.
I reluctantly step back and Dylan opens the door. Serena is standing directly across the room from us, in front of a green velvet couch. I only assume its Serena since it looks like a balloon is stuffed under her black sweater. She looks nothing like Dylan, other than being tall. Her hair is as black as crow feathers. Her skin is ivory white and smooth. I can’t see a single freckle. Her dark brown eyes widen in surprise and her mouth drops open when she sees Dylan.
“What are you doing here?” Serena asks.
A guy standing next to Serena turns around to look at us and I can only assume it’s Mike. He’s different than I imagined. He looks like a hipster-nerd, with shaggy hair spilling into his eyes and his jeans fit tighter than any man’s should legally be allowed.
I shut the door and stand next to Dylan, assuming my best body guard pose.
“I came to talk to you,” Dylan says. She takes a step forward but then she hesitates.
Serena stays planted in place. She covers her arms over her chest and they rest on the bulge of her stomach. There’s a coffee table between us, littered with open pizza boxes and cans of Coke.
“Oh, so now you take a sudden interest in my life?” Serena asks Dylan.
“What’s up, I’m Mike,” Mike says and crosses the room toward us. He extends his hand and Dylan keeps hers pressed to her side. I offer my hand instead.
“I’m Gray,” I say. He gives my hand a confident shake and his brown eyes have a clever edge to them.
“Gray,” Mike says. “So, your mom was depressed when you were born?”
Dylan puts her hands on her hips. “He’s named after the coast of Oregon,” she states.
“Oh, I see,” Mike says. “So, your mom was stoned when you were born?”
I start to smile, but then I look at Dylan’s expression and cough into my hand. It’s been a while since anyone’s made fun of my name.
“Gray?” Serena says, and her eyes widen. “Wait, you’re Gray?”
I nod and she eyes me up and down.
“You’re a lot hotter than Dylan described,” she says. “No wonder she traded in her v-card for you.”
I raise a single eyebrow. And we were smart enough to use birth control, I want to add. My wiser half tells me the joke could dangerously backfire right now.
Serena’s eyes snap over to Dylan.
“What’s going on? What is he doing here?”
“We ran into each other in Nebraska,” Dylan says.
“You were in Nebraska?” Serena asks.
“Yes. I’ve been driving across the entire country trying to find you. To talk some sense into you.” Dylan pauses, probably waiting for Serena to thank her and offer her the hug she’s been waiting for. Serena only glares at her from head to foot.
“You prance in here with your skinny little waistline and perky boobs to tell me what to do with my life?”
“Um. Not exactly,” Dylan says. Her hands start to fidget at her sides.
“Oh, ow.” Serena half squats, half falls down onto the couch.
“Are you having a contraction?” Dylan asks and runs up next to her. She sits down at her side and reaches out for her hand but Serena pulls it back.
She shakes her head and winces. “It’s just kicking my spine at the moment.”
“What if you went into labor?” Dylan asks. “Do you have a birthing plan?” She looks at Serena. Serena looks at Mike. Mike looks at me, as if I have any input.
“How hard can it be?” Serena says. “Women have been delivering babies for centuries. It’s what we’re biologically designed to do. Our bodies haven’t changed. Women used to do it in caves next to fire pits and bite on sticks.”
“What are you saying?” Dylan asks. “You want to perform a cave birth?”
“That would be awesome,” Mike adds. “We can start a new birthing trend. Cavernous births. Slip out of one cave and into another. Talk about a natural transition.”
Serena winces again. “I swear he’s kicking my throat.” She massages her stomach. “Simmer down, Luke.”
“Luke?” Dylan asks, her voice rising in excitement. “You’re having a boy?”