She was mixing a margarita when she felt a presence on her right and she didn’t have to turn around to know it was her father.
“Baaartender?” he called. “Give my good friends here some drinks on me.”
Alison ignored him; she knew he had no intention of paying for those drinks and she didn’t plan to get stuck with the bill.
“Excuuuse me! Bartender?” he called.
“Yo bartender,” a new voice said and Alison couldn’t keep ignoring them. She turned around and spread her lips wide in a parody of a smile.
“What can I getcha gentlemen?” she asked.
“You did what?” Amy asked, mouth open as she lay curled on Samara’s bed, legs crossed; her tiny pyjama shorts showing off her shorter yet no less shapely legs.
“I don’t even know what happened. One minute we were sitting down, discussing…I don’t even know. His dad I think. The next minute I’m on my knees in his suite or berth or whatever you call a bedroom when it's on a boat, and his dick is in my mouth.”
“Wow. How…I mean. God; Samara you’ve practically been a virgin for the past six years and now you’re slutting it up with some shipping magnate?”
“I wouldn’t exactly say slutting. It was more like…we had a connection.”
“A connection? Like did he ask to see you again?” Amy asked her whole body radiating scepticism.
“No…I mean I don’t expect…it's not like,” Samara shrugged. “He called me beautiful.”
“Wow, he called you beautiful? That’s great Samara. But even you know it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I mean you know that, don’t you?”
Samara's heart raced as she nearly sprinted down the stairs from the Girls' Dorm to the Common Room. Mentally she was counting and re-counting and calculating days and percentages as her thoughts whizzed over the conclusion that her brain was most certainly not jumping to.
Not twenty minutes ago Samara had been sitting peacefully in her dorm laughing with Mary and Alice about their respective boyfriends. She'd been having a good time, taking her mind off of the fact that she hadn't heard from Bjorn since their night on the boat. That was, until Marlene had walked in, swimming gear in tow, complaining about how the coach had made her swim through her cramps, and Samara should bite his head off for it because Marlene was in too much pain to do it. The girls laughed, and Samara's stomach dropped seven floors.
Yes, Samara was having a wonderful morning until she realized she was late.
Three weeks late.
"Oh bloody hell,"
And that brought her to the sprinting down the stairs to the Common Room, where she hoped she would find Amy. Stupidly, she thought she might be back at the same time as Marlene, but she always stayed late to clean up. She started towards the stairs, running flat into Amy as she ambled up the stairs.
"Oi, watch it," Amy Whitaker grinned up at the taller form of Samara, until she seemed to pick up on her stress. She dropped her hands on her shoulders and took a step back. "You alright?"
"Fine, I’m good,” Samara said taking hold of Amy’s hand and pulling her towards an unoccupied corner.
"No seriously, Khaled, what's wrong?"
Staring at Amy, she weight her options. She could either insist it was nothing and go back up to her dorm and face the same questions from her dorm mates, or she could tell her best friend (who had been very critical of her behavior with Bjorn already) that she was possibly, maybe, at least forty percent sure, pregnant.
Some part of her felt bad Amy would know before Bjorn.
"I'll tell you, but-" She glanced around the crowded Common Room. "-not here."
Amy nodded, backing up to head for the stairs again. "I know the perfect place."
She was talking about the Starbucks across campus of course; haven of coffee lovers everywhere. Samara figured that out when they walked the all too familiar path. They entered the café and Samara headed to their familiar corner.
"Right." Samara said, pushing her way into the booth that looked like a comfortable sitting room. She sat down on the edge of the couch and waited for Amy to follow. It didn't take long and she soon joined her.
"Are you going to tell me now?" She jabbed at her leg with her finger.
"I'm, well, see-that is," She sighed, chewing on her lip and wondering if she'd ever get the words out. "I think I’m pregnant?"
Silence.
"Bloody hell," Amy muttered.