But now I'm nervous. When my period was late, I hoped that it was because of all the extra workouts I've been doing. I've always been a bit irregular when I work out hard. But for the week since Duncan's Pro Day, I've been relaxing, catching up on my school work, and ramping down my workouts.
At least, my weight room ones. Duncan and I have made love every night the past week, and my body aches pleasantly with everything we've done.
Today, though, I can't wait any longer. I need the peace of mind, or at least an answer. Duncan's in class for the morning, and I've got a kinesiology class in an hour, so this is the perfect time to come get checked out.
The volunteer nurse who takes my information looks bored, like she's done this all before, and most likely, she has. I mean, Western's got about thirty thousand students between all the different programs, more than my entire hometown, and that's a lot of people in the middle of their sexual blossoming.
"Let's just check. You're not worried about an STD test, correct?"
"Yes," I answer. "We've been monogamous for around six months, and we've both been tested in that time."
The nurse shrugs and checks a box on her form. "Okay. Have you taken a pregnancy test before? It's not hard, but if you want help, we can provide it."
"No, I’ll be fine. If I need help, I'll ring."
The nurse shrugs and hands over the white cardboard box, then points. "Bathroom's down the hall on the left. You can work up a little pee, right?"
"Yeah, thanks."
I go down to the bathroom and lock the door behind me, opening the box. Dropping my jeans, I pee on the little tip, then cap it and wait, looking at my new phone's clock to make sure of the minutes. When the :41 quickly changes to :42, then :43, I turn the test over, my fingers going numb as I see the little plus sign in the indicator window.
"Well."
I don't know what to say. I'm alone in a locked bathroom, a pregnancy test in front of me, my boyfriend's finishing up his management classes for the day before going to the Pavilion for a school-hosted Draft Party, and I'm . . . pregnant.
Should I start to panic now?
Why? Because you're a college girl who got pregnant? That doesn't make you all that special. I bet at least a hundred girls got pregnant at Western last year. Maybe more, with the amount of sex that goes on around here, I think to myself.
I chuckle. What do I do?
Go to class, then go to the party. Later on, maybe you can talk. You have time.
I barely pay attention in class, and when I get to the Draft Party, I see Duncan, Tyler, Joe, and a few of the other guys already there. There's a cameraman from the Football Network, along with a guy from the League, who's there to present 'draft day jerseys' for anyone who gets drafted.
Looking at his table, I notice that there is only one copy of each team's jersey, and they aren't personalized. "What's the deal?"
"Oh, I have the name plates for the three projected prospects. I pin them on in the minute or so it takes to get the call and make the formal announcement. The players get their real draft jersey afterward. I'll sew the name plate on after the day's over."
"What if two guys get drafted by the same team?"
The League rep smiles and points to a box under the table. "I've got another copy of each jersey, so that's no big deal. Besides, this is all for Hart, really. Paulson and Manfredi aren't expected to be picked until tomorrow."
"Hey, you made it!" I hear behind me, and I turn to see Duncan coming over. He's relaxed and smiling, finally able to take a day off after the stress of the past few months. He swallows me in a hug, kissing the top of my head as I let my worries go for a few minutes. "How was class?"
I smile and give Duncan a quick kiss. "I barely paid attention. My mind was somewhere else,” I say honestly. "How about you?"
Duncan shakes his head, and we turn, looking around the room where the party is taking place. We're using the athlete lounge, a luxurious room that's shared by all the different teams, although in theory, it's supposed to be only used by athletes in season at the time. I've never been in here before, and I'll be honest, I'm a bit jealous. If the difference between the student athletic center and Coach Taylor's weight room is a measuring stick, the difference between the general student union and this lounge is astronomical. Seriously, what sort of student lounge has leather sofas? And . . . three PlayStations? When do they ever study?
"Chill, Carrie, you're going hormonal," I admonish myself, and Duncan looks over, confused.
"What's that?"
"Nothing, just feeling a bit of jealousy. I didn't know how nice this room was before. Come on, let's grab a seat and watch. So you're really not nervous?"