Naomi
“Pregnant?” I scoff at Mom. “I can’t be pregnant.” I stand up and hover over the sink.
Mom c***s her hip. “Have you and Magnus been sexually active?”
“Mom,” I drawl out.
She puts her hands on her hips. “Well,” She lifts an eyebrow.
“Of course, we have,” I snort.
“And you used protection?” She folds her arm.
I wipe my hand down my face and brush past Mom out of the bathroom. “No, we didn’t,” I mumble as she follows me. I walk into the living room, and my father eyes me.
“Are you alright, Naomi?” He asks.
“She’s pregnant, Al,” Mom blurts out.
“Mom,” I huff.
“Really? Already?” My father laughs
I sit on the opposite end of the couch. “I’m not pregnant. I am just nauseous.”
“And pale and cranky, among other things,” Mom sits beside Dad and smiles at me. “Oh, I can’t wait to
