Up until now, I thought I’d skipped the early pregnancy crap. That nausea everybody talks about, the weird mood swings, all of it had been zero problem. Sure, they wouldn’t give me the really good meds while I’d been shot, but apart from that… I guess the gunshot might have distracted from everything else.
Now I’m in the computer lab, and the professor is trying to explain a concept, and all I can think about is the smell coming from the coffee the student next to me is drinking.
No matter how hard I try to block it out, it just seems to smell stronger.
It’s a hell of a time for the baby — my baby — to start making my body act up.
The thought of it, and the fact that I’m pregnant by what could be one of three men, is enough to make the nausea worse.
I’d thought I’d come to terms with that, too, but I guess the pregnancy hormones are in full force today.
My stomach lurches, and I stumble out of my seat in the computer lab. Everyone looks up at me, startled and annoyed, but before my professor can say a word, I’m darting for the door.
The area outside the computer lab is mostly empty; most students are tucked away in their own classrooms. It means that when I finally retch into a trash can, no one is around to see me vomit.
Fuck. It’s a relief when all the food comes up, but I know this won’t be the last of it. I’ve been feeling nauseated all morning. Yuri had picked up on it, even, and I’d told him I was absolutely fine.
I’m not fine.
I fold forward and kneel in front of the trashcan, arms over my belly, and I will myself not to cry.
How am I supposed to do all of this? The studying, the baby, finding the weapons, dealing with Kyran and Silvano, and somehow navigating the weird mood Yuri, Nikolai, and Kotya are all in now—
“Sierra? You look like shit,” an annoyingly familiar voice says.
For fuck’s sake. Why does it always have to be him?
“Gee, thanks,” I say, wiping my mouth off on my shirt sleeve. “I hadn’t noticed. Fuck off, James.”
Where is Yuri, anyway? I glance around, trying to spot him, but the only other student in the area is staring at us in fascination.
So glad I can put on a show.
“I’m just worried about you,” James protests. “You’ve been acting so weird, you’ve had those two guys up your ass all the time,” I almost let out a hysterical giggle, “and you don’t want anything to do with me.”
“That would be because you cheated on me, and I’m free to do what I want with who I want,” I inform him. I start to go on, but the nausea flares up again, and I turn my head as I get sick again.
I’m not even done retching, still heaving over the trash can, when James says, “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
I ignore him, more focused on trying not to make a mess than I am on him.
“Sierra?” he persists.
I groan, lifting my head again. “No. I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m just sick. I’ll grab my shit and head home so I don’t spread it.”
Like pregnancy is a disease.
Well, it certainly feels like it is right now.
James gets his phone out. “No way. Let me call an uber. Or 9-1-1. You need to take things like this seriously.”
“Oh, my god,” I lament. “James, it’s just a stomach thing. I’m fine.”
It would be beyond embarrassing to be ushered to the hospital for morning sickness, but I don’t want to tell him that I’m only sick because I’m pregnant — because then I’d have to admit the truth.
Where the fuck is Yuri? I scan the area again, hoping he’ll pop up, but there’s still no sign of him.
“It’s no trouble.” James smiles at me, and for a split second I remember why I’d dated him. “I’m just looking out for you.”
Yeah, like he looked out for me when he cheated on me. Or when he told me I should be happy with mediocre grades. Or when stole my ideas and presented them as his own.
Why the fuck had I put up with him for so long.
“I don’t need you to,” I say. The urge to vomit has finally stopped being so pressing, and I slump down onto the floor. “If you want to help, find Yuri for me. You know, the Russian guy I’m dating now?”
“One of them,” James mutters darkly. He doesn’t move though, just staring at me.
“What?” I demand.
“Did you get fat?” James asks. “Your face looks rounder.”
I stare at him, slack-jawed. I can’t believe he just accused me of getting fat.
I shouldn’t care. It’s not like I’ve ever been obsessed with my weight, though his nagging little comments about what I was eating and wearing had gotten to me a few times. My cheeks flush, and I squirm. “No. I haven’t gotten fat. Just go back to class and leave me alone. I don’t know how I can tell you to fuck off more clearly.”
“It’s those guys.” James takes a step closer to me, and I back away. “What are they doing to you? You’re letting go of yourself.” Then he stares at the trash can. “Do you have an eating disorder now?”
Exasperation is making the nausea return, and I contemplate letting him get closer so I can throw up on his shoes. “If I had an eating disorder, I’d be a little more discreet about it,” I snap. “And it still wouldn’t be your business. I’m not going to sit here and troubleshoot my nausea and apparent weight gain with you.”
I push myself up, gritting my teeth.
James makes that annoying sound where he pretends to be thinking. “You’ve been sleeping around a lot, you were missing from college for a while, you’re sick now, you’re getting fat…” His eyes narrow. “Are you pregnant?”
Fuck.
I’m going to rip Yuri a new one when he gets back. For the morning sickness, for leaving me alone with this… Hell, for getting me knocked up in the first place.
“No,” I lie as smoothly as I can, but it doesn’t work too well when my stomach threatens to lurch again and I’m stumbling back up to my feet. “Even if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your fucking business,” I manage to say instead of vomiting again.
“Jesus,” James says, giving me a nasty expression. “You really are just a slut. Getting knocked up as soon as you leave me.”
“You’re just pissed I wouldn’t spread my legs for you,” I retort. “That I found someone worth it.”
Did I find someone worth it? That’s not really the true story, but it’s the story that’ll drive him crazy — and he deserves to second guess himself for once after putting me through the same for so long.
He tenses up. “What? Who wants a loose cunt like yours anyway?”
“Obviously I found someone who does,” I snap at him even though the words sting. With all the use it’s been getting over the past few months, it probably is loose and sloppy — though Konstantin seems to like that, at least, and Nikolai and Yuri do too. They’ve made it feel almost like a good thing, but my cheeks burn with shame.
Before James can say anything else, I hear heavy boots thudding on tile floor. I look over my shoulder to see Yuri jogging over to us, drink in hand and a thunderous expression on his face.
James backs up several steps before Yuri even reaches us.
“Sierra,” Yuri says, and I can’t believe how much I appreciate the fact that his pronunciation of my name is so distinct from how James says it. He gets between me and James. “What are you doing here, mudak?”
“Pissing me off,” I mutter. “He decided to—”
I cut myself off. If I say what had really happened, there’s a very real chance that this will lead to a physical altercation. I don’t want to get thrown off of campus. I’m too close to my degree, and little clashes like this won’t happen again. Yuri and Nikolai will be so far up my ass that I’ll be wishing for space again.
“Anyway, he was just leaving,” I say. “Right, James?”
James looks between me and Yuri. “Fine. Guess there are men out there who want washed up whores.”
Yuri’s eyes flash in anger, and he reaches out for James but James had the foresight to storm away. Before Yuri can go after him, I grab his arm.
“Don’t.”
“He disrespected you,” Yuri snaps. “I can’t allow that.”
“You have to,” I say, holding tighter to his arm when he tries to pull away. “I’m not letting you get arrested because of him. He’s not worth it. Just… let me get my bag from the classroom, and we can call it an early day.”
“Why were you out here?” Yuri asks.
“Why weren’t you?” I retort sourly, only to sigh and hold up my hand. “Sorry. I know it was like, ten minutes into class and you should’ve been fine to wander. I just… got sick.”
Yuri holds up his drink. “I was just getting a coffee.” Then he seems to realize what I said. “Wait. Why were you sick? Do you need to go to a doctor?”
“No,” I say, exasperated even though it’s not Yuri’s fault. I lower my voice. “It’s morning sickness. It’s normal, apparently.” I’d been scouring the internet for the same things over and over, all the signs and symptoms and problems that can crop up, and I hate myself a little for being so smug that none of those things had affected me.
Thanks, universe.
“Oh.” Yuri has the decency to look chagrined. Then he holds the coffee out to me. “Do you want a drink?”
The overwhelming smell gets to me again, and the nausea comes back in full force. I wave him off. “If you get that any closer to me, I’m going to throw up on you,” I threaten. “Fucking hell. I’m going to end up not being able to handle coffee. How am I going to survive this?”
He quickly pulls the coffee away. “Well, um. Nikolai said pregnant women weren’t supposed to have caffeine anyway,” Yuri says with an awkward smile. “Now you won’t be tempted?”
I glare at him. “Caffeine in moderation is fine. Everything in moderation is fine. I’m not going to start drinking or smoking, but a little bit of coffee…” I’m whining, and I know I’m whining, but my dark mood reminds me that it’s just one more thing they’ve taken away from me.
“I guess we can’t go on motorcycle rides anymore either,” Yuri says, more subdued. It’s like this is the first time he’s even considered that my pregnancy might not be all fun and games.
I want to snap at him for caring about something that seems so minor, but to him, I don’t think it is. We enjoyed our motorcycle rides, and I’ll miss them too. “After the baby is born, and I’ve healed up and all,” I say. “But yeah. It’s not really safe.”
I just hope they don’t decide that going anywhere and doing anything isn’t safe.
Yuri glances back toward the classroom. “Are you going back in there? Do you want to go home instead?”
“I have to get my stuff,” I say even though I really, really don’t want to face anyone in there. “Then we can go home for the day. I can’t miss class every time I’m feeling sick, but…” But James had rattled me more than I want to admit. “Am I getting fat?” I ask abruptly.
I shouldn’t care. I especially shouldn’t care about what James thinks. There’s nothing wrong with not being stick-thin, and I don’t care about beauty standards or pleasing men.
But my mother had always warned against getting fat, too.
I pause at that thought. How is my mother doing? Kyran said they’d gotten her to safety, but she doesn’t want anything to do with him, and now she doesn’t have me.
I don’t think she even knows I’m safe — or whatever version of safe this is.
My eyes tear up.
“No?” Yuri looks me over. “You’re just as hot as always.”
I sniffle, nodding to him. “Okay,” I say, my voice more strained than I want to admit. “Okay,” I say again because I don’t know what else to say, but I add, “Let me get my stuff.” I turn before he can stop me, hurrying back toward the classroom. He’s right on my heels this time, though he at least pauses in the doorway while I gather my bag.
The professor gives me a strange look, but I don’t bother to give an explanation before I bail on the class.
Once the door is closed behind me, I rest my head briefly against Yuri’s shoulder. “Let’s get the fuck out of here. I need some water.”
“Okay.” Yuri wraps his arm around my shoulder. “You want to do some more Russian when we get back? ‘What is this? It is an apple.’”
I crack a smile, repeating, “‘It is an apple’” in my horrible accent. “‘What is this?’” I ask, pointing to the trash can. “We just got pretty well acquainted,” I try to joke.
He laughs and tells me the word for trash can, and I let him teach me all sorts of words I’ll probably forget by the time we get back.
It’s a nice distraction, at least.
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