"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." She smiles, "Just feeling kind of… I don't know… blah."
"You've been feeling… blah… since Jameson left. Is something going on?"
"No," She rushes, "Hurry and get that dental floss between your cheeks and let's go down to the beach."
Ever since Jameson left, she's been in a funk. If you ask me, it's for the better. That boy has daddy issues out to wazoo and a list of fuckups a mile long. She rags nonstop about Ashton, but she's too blind to see that her relationship wasn't much better.
I know how she feels, though. One smile from Ashton, and I'm right back in his grasp, struggling for my next breath. It's draining and thrilling all at the same time.
We lay back into our beach chairs, and a volleyball rolls up to the edge of my chair, and a fine specimen of a man walks up to grab it.
"You know I don't typically care for the color yellow, but I'm rethinking that right now," The abs—I mean the guy—says.
Damn, get it together, Kar. SPEAK TO THE MAN.
"That's the best pickup line you could conjure up in that head of yours?" Hanna spits, and I'm taken aback by her hatefulness. Hanna isn't hateful. She's nauseatingly nice. All the time. The Abercrombie model wannabe walks away without another word.
"What was that?" I huff, "Cockblocker."
She takes a sip of her water, "Saving you from another Ashton."
Okay, so Hanna has sworn off all men. Noted.
"Let's find you a guy," I try, looking around the beach for a guy that looks worthy of my bestie, "it will do you some good to get underneath someone new."
"No, Karly."
I notice a guy down near the water walking his dog, looking like he could be a politician's son with a hefty trust fund. "Come on, what about him?"
I watch him for a second, how he's being so gentle with his dog, petting her head and tossing a frisbee. That guy looks harmless. "I'll call him over."
I pull my heart-shaped sunglasses down the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath to yell when Hanna blurts, "I'm pregnant."
I literally choke on the words as they come out of my mouth. The only thing holding my jaw off the floor is my tits. "What?"
"You heard me." She sighs, adjusting her uncomfortable self in her chair.
"You're pregnant?" I croak loudly.
"Shhh! Tell the whole damn beach, why don't you!"
I glance around. We don't even know any of these people.
"Uh, Hanna. Are you sure? I mean, you aren't just late because of stress?"
She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Ha! Don't I wish? No, I'm definitely pregnant. The doctor isn't usually wrong."
I sit up straighter. I can't believe she didn't tell me about any of this. "You've already been to the doctor! Why didn't you tell me, you goof?"
She wipes the tears from her cheeks, "I don't know. I'm still not sure how I feel about it."
"Wow," I breathe, "I thought you were on the pill."
"I was. Apparently, when you take antibiotics, it can mess it up. I had no idea. I never needed to worry about it because I wasn't having sex."
Ugh, Hanna is a newly deflowered virgin, but Jameson should've known better. "Didn't Jameson ever wrap it up?"