[Holly's POV]
The dorm room seems smaller than usual today, like the walls have inched closer while I wasn't looking. It's been three weeks since I peed on those four plastic sticks, and my body hasn't changed much, but my reality has shifted completely.
I'm sitting cross-legged on my bed, pretending to study for my Cognitive Psychology midterm when Stacy bursts in with her usual tornado of energy, backpack sliding off one shoulder.
"Train club was cancelled!" she announces, flopping down on the edge of my bed. "Something about the president having a meltdown when someone confused a GP40 with a GP38. Michael was livid he started stimming out."
I manage a weak smile, my hand unconsciously drifting to my stomach. The nausea comes in waves these days, unpredictable and cruel. Right now it's just a dull ache, but I know from experience how quickly that can change.
Stacy's eyes follow the movement of my hand, her cheerful expression fading into concern.
"You're holding your stomach again," she says, leaning forward. "Have you been having tummy troubles all week? Maybe you should see the campus doctor."
The word "doctor" sends a jolt of panic through me. I've been avoiding the campus health center like it's radioactive, terrified someone might recognize me from my epic meltdown last semester. The last thing I need is for word to get back to the scholarship committee that Holly Sampson is knocked up.
"I'm pregnant," I blurt out, the confession spilling from my lips before I can stop it.
Stacy freezes mid-motion, her mouth dropping open.
"You're..." she starts, then stops, her eyes widening to comical proportions. "Pregnant? Like, with a baby?"
I roll my eyes despite the knot of anxiety in my chest. "No, Stacy, with a litter of kittens."
She ignores my sarcasm, scooting closer on the bed. "Whose the father?" she asks, her voice dropping to a whisper even though we're alone.
I hesitate, my throat suddenly dry. "Someone that doesn't like me very much right now."
Stacy's eyebrows shoot up, her expression shifting from shock to something more complex. "Does your mom know?"
"No." I pick at a loose thread on my comforter, avoiding her eyes.
"Holly, you gotta tell your mom ASAP," she says, leaning forward with unexpected urgency. "Like, this isn't something you can just hide forever."
I let out a harsh laugh that sounds bitter even to my own ears. "We're not exactly on speaking terms right now, Stace. And this whole baby thing is going to make her very upset with me."
"But it's your mom though." Stacy's voice softens, her hand reaching out to touch my knee. "Family is family, you know?"
I'm about to snap back with something cutting when suddenly a thought crashes into my brain with such force that I actually gasp. The room seems to tilt slightly as the idea takes shape, crystallizing with perfect, terrible clarity.
Maybe if I can't have Daniel alone... maybe I can use this baby to become part of them. Like a throuple or something. A family unit. His child, her daughter, all of us together somehow.
The idea is so absurd, so completely deranged that I almost laugh out loud. But beneath the insanity, there's something that feels... possible. A thread I could pull that might unravel everything.
"Holly? You okay?" Stacy waves her hand in front of my face. "You went somewhere else for a second."
I blink, forcing myself back to the present. "Yeah, sorry. Just... processing everything."
"So who is it?" she presses. "The father, I mean. Is it that guy from your Abnormal Psych class? The one with the weird laugh?"
"No," I say, my hand still resting protectively over my stomach. "It's complicated."
Stacy leans back, studying me with narrowed eyes. "Complicated like how? Like he's married or something?"
I tilt my head, looking for a way to turn this conversation around. "What about you? You've been getting awfully cozy with Michael from train club lately, haven't you?"
Stacy's face flushes immediately. Her fingers start fidgeting with the strap of her backpack.`
"That's, that's not what we're talking about," she stammers, suddenly defensive. "Besides, I already have a boyfriend."
"Oh." This is news to me. "I didn't know that."
Her blush deepens, spreading down her neck. She looks away, focusing intently on my psychology textbook like it's suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room.
"It's complicated," she mumbles.
"Complicated how?" I press, grateful for the shift in focus. "Like he's married or something?" I throw her own words back at her with a small smirk.
"Maybe." Stacy's voice is small.
"Oh," I say, the realization hitting me. She's trying to see if we're in the same boat, both keeping secrets about complicated relationships.
I sigh, suddenly tired of the dance we're doing. "Look, it's fine. Your dating life is none of my business. I'm hardly in a position to judge anyone right now." I gesture vaguely at my still-flat stomach.
Relief washes over her face. "Can we change subjects? Please?"
"Sure," I say, my shoulders loosening with relief. I watch her think for a moment, her expression shifting as she searches for a new topic.
"I've been wondering something," she says finally, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "If you took a train off its tracks, could it still move? Like, could it just go anywhere?"
The question hits me like a physical blow. My eye twitches involuntarily as I stare at her, trying to determine if she's actually serious. The nausea in my stomach recedes, replaced by a hot rush of irritation.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I snap, sitting up straighter. "No, Stacy, trains can't just 'go anywhere.' That's literally the entire point of trains. They're designed specifically for steel rails. The flanged wheels are engineered to maintain contact with the tracks while minimizing friction."
She blinks, clearly not expecting my reaction. "I just thought…"
"No. You clearly weren't thinking at all."