For once, I was happy that Michelle was here. She was my savior through this event for sure. She promised she wouldn’t tell my parents at all about the pregnancy until I was ready for it. She was so supportive of me.
Then one day when I was throwing up, which I do a lot lately, Michelle began saying to me ever so casually, “So when are you gonna tell our parents?” I turned my head towards her slowly, “You are asking me this….now? While I’m throwing up?”
“Well….you’re gonna have to do it eventually.”
“I know that. But can I deal with that at a better time?” I growled.
“Alright alright.” Michelle raised her hands in defense, “Don’t get all pissy at me, considering all I’ve done for you.” I wiped my face with a towel and flushed the toliet, sighing, “I know. And you know how I’m going to make it up to you?”
“How?”
“By telling Mom and Dad?”
“And how are you doing that?” Michelled asked. I huffed and answered, “No idea.”