I can't sleep that night until it's nearly time to wake up. I feel sick to my stomach again, despite this being my fourth day without alcohol, which I've now forever sworn off by obligation because I'm pregnant. I was up all night with new worries I hadn't even thought of while Kyle and Mariluz were at my apartment, and they continue to plague me on the drive in to Chris's and Rigo's house.

My biggest new worry being: why did I bleed so much? I thought about it as soon as they left, is it normal to still have one last period when you first get pregnant? According to my quick research online, no, it's not. That last bit of bleeding is called implantation bleeding, but it's light and only lasts a few days. Mine was only light for the first day and the last few days, and it lasted more than a week. I mean... am I really pregnant after all that? Maybe I was... but my drinking put an end to it and my hormone levels haven't caught up yet. Maybe I don't need to talk to Xavi after all.

Xavi's white Camaro is parked in his normal space when we arrive—confirming that my friends will be expecting me to speak to him—so Mariluz hesitates about where to park for a moment. She eventually decides to park right beside the carport, sticking out a little further due to the shape of the paving and trees but still out-of-the-way enough for everyone else to get by. We pause in the car again, but our nerves lack the excitement they carried yesterday.

"Ready?" Mariluz asks softly.

I take a deep breath, hoping it's enough, but it doesn't help. "No."

"I can be there with you, if you want," Kyle offers.

I shake my head slowly and reach for the door handle. "I need to talk to him myself."

"Just tell me if you change your mind," he continues as we all get out.

It should be comforting to have them with me, but it isn't. This is something way bigger than I ever expected to have to face, honestly. Even if I were to find a woman to marry one day and we started a family, I wasn't so sure it would be me carrying our children. Childbirth terrifies me, and I don't think I have the strength to push through that kind of pain. I barely had the strength to push through getting my ears pierced at thirteen years old.

Are you punishing me, God? Is that what this is?

He must be. I'm pregnant with the child of the brother of the girl I really want to be with. This is Hell on Earth.

Chris greets us at the door this time before we have a chance to ring the doorbell. It's been an easy morning because he made Mía go to school despite all her protests, he tells us with obvious relief. Mariluz and Kyle head right into the sitting room, but I move slower, wrapped up in my thoughts. For a moment, Chris and I are alone.

"Are you okay?" he asks me softly.

I meet his eyes in my best attempt at playing cool. "I'm fine," I assure him with a nod.

But my voice is shaky, and I know he can hear my uncertainty in the way he looks at me. I swallow back the lump that quickly forms in my throat and look away, contemplating whether or not I should just join Mariluz and Kyle in the sitting room. I want to be firm for once in saying that I'm okay, but I really don't feel okay right now.

"It's just." I look back at him hesitantly, and he's watching with patient concern. "Is Xavi here? I—" My voice chokes off shakily and I swallow hard again. "I really need to talk to him."

Chris seems to know immediately what it's about, because his eyes widen just a tad and he inhales deeply as he nods. "Yeah he's here. You can talk to him right now, he's upstairs."

"Right now?" I repeat in disbelief.

I mean, I'd love to get it over with as soon as possible but, right now? I don't think I'm ready.

"Yeah, it's no problem," he insists. "I can catch you up on whatever you miss. I'll show you to his room. He's probably asleep right now but I'll wake him up."

He heads up the spiral staircase right away waving his hand for me to follow him. He knows this is urgent, too, no matter how much I want to deny it. Another wave of nausea—which I now know is morning sickness—makes my stomach churn as I begrudgingly follow him, too wound up to pay attention to how we got there when we finally stop at his door. I recognize the hallway we're in from the morning Xavi and I woke up together, and it feels harrowing.

"Just wait here a minute, I'll wake him up," Chris directs me in a low voice as he gently opens Xavi's door.

I nod wordlessly as I watch him disappear inside, tossing the door behind him but not hard enough for it to close. I hear some shuffling that sounds like a blanket being moved, and Xavi groans quietly into his pillow.

"Get up," Chris barks, all traces of sympathy gone from his voice.

Xavi's whiny response is muffled. "I don't wanna."

"I didn't ask if you want to. Let's go!"

Xavi groans some more, and there's a light thud that sounds like his pillow being yanked out from under him.

"What the fuck?!" he complains.

"I said get up," Chris reasserts firmly.

"Why? What is the big fucking emergency?" Xavi demands aggravatedly.

"Why don't you get your ass up and find out?" Chris fires back. "You're not a kid anymore. I shouldn't have to tell you more than once."

"I'm up," Xavi spits pointedly with venom. "Why are you being such a hard-ass all of a sudden? You sound like my fuckin' dad."

"Someone needs to talk to you, so get dressed," Chris continues, ignoring Xavi's complaints. "She's waiting outside your door when you're ready."

"'She?'" Xavi repeats in disbelief. "'She' who?"

"Get dressed and find out," Chris calls back dismissively as he pulls the door open again.

His expression softens when he looks at me and he smiles reassuringly. "He'll be ready in a minute. Do you want me to wait here with you or are you okay on your own?"

I think about it for a moment, because I don't really want to be alone right now, not even for a minute. Xavi's literally getting ready to talk to me though, and at some point I need to grow enough of a backbone to face difficult situations on my own.

"I can handle it," I assure him instead. "Thank you, Chris."

"If you need anything, just let me know. You can always hang out in the studio if you don't want to come downstairs after," he tells me, pointing to the door where we nearly ran into each other on my first visit three weeks ago.

I nod, smiling sincerely. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

I watch him walk away, and just moments after he rounds the corner to go back down the stairs, Xavi's door opens fully with a whistle from the speed. He's taken aback when he sees me, but steps back after a moment to let me in wordlessly.

"I'm sorry to wake you up, it's just important," I tell him as I walk in.

"Yeah, what's so important exactly?" he asks curiously, still sounding exhausted.

I take a seat on the edge of his bed with a deep breath and look at him with all the confidence I can muster, real and fake.

"I am—uh. I'm—" My voice breaks as my false bravado instantly crumbles.

Xavi's face becomes concerned and he sits on the bed beside me, leaning in close.

"What's going on?" he presses gently.

My hands squeeze each other tight in my lap and I watch them closely as I breathe deep. It's a battle in my mind to force myself to just say the words. There's no point in delaying it; he's the father and he needs to know. That doesn't change how wrong it feels to be dragging him into this alcohol-driven mess I've gotten myself into, though.

It's now or never, Lola. Just tell him.

I keep staring at my hands as I speak, grounding myself with them. "I'm pregnant."

The room is perfectly quiet for a whole minute. My heart rate kicks up and it's all I can hear. The vibration of it throughout my body is all I can feel. Xavi's loud exhale breaks the silence.

"Wow," he breathes in disbelief.

"Yeah," I whisper, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"I know it's not really appropriate to ask this," he begins awkwardly, and my gut sinks, "but we don't exactly know each other or anything. Are you sure it's mine?"

Am I... sure? Is this guy fucking nuts? Not appropriate is right!

I meet his eyes then, watching him hard. "If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't be talking to you about this right now," I fume.

His hands go up defensively. "Okay, that's fair. I'm sorry," he apologizes. His hands drop slowly and he clears his throat uncomfortably. "So, um, when did you take a test? Did you know yesterday?"

"I found out last night."

"Just one test?"

"Fifteen."

"Fifteen?" he repeats incredulously. "So, there's no doubt then. You're definitely pregnant."

I nod, then lower my eyes to my hands again. "Yeah. Well, maybe."

"What do you mean 'maybe?'" he presses, and I note a touch of irritation in his voice. "You said you took fifteen tests. Were most of them negative or something?"

"They were all positive, but the thing is I, um." I pause to breathe again, losing steam as the anger evaporates. "I had a period, but I wasn't supposed to. So I don't know what that means," I explain gravely.

"Okay, well, that's easy," he says reassuringly. "We just bring you to a doctor and they can tell you for sure how the baby's doing."

"And then... what?"

I look up at him again and his eyebrows pull together in confusion.

"What do you mean? And then... we have a baby," he states with a shrug.

I break out in laughter, but it's not happy laughter, it's angry. "Us? I'm an alcoholic and you still act like a fucking kid," I counter wryly. "We can't have a baby, Xavi."

His confusion becomes a scowl. "I act the way I do because I don't have any responsibilities that require different. I'm not a fucking idiot, Lola."

I look at the floor with pursed lips, still bitter but knowing I'm wrong. "You're right," I allow quietly. "I'm sorry."

He sighs heavily to calm himself. "Look, we don't need to argue about it because it's kind of too late to change it now. I'll make an appointment for you and we can go as soon as there's an opening," he tells me decidedly as he reaches for his phone on the bedside table.

"I don't need you to make an appointment for me," I protest harshly.

"Yeah, yeah," he yawns dismissively as he taps around. "Save the strong, independent woman act, that's my baby too and I wanna make sure he's okay."

My interest piques on his choice of pronoun and a smile slowly grows, but I purse my lips as I decide to save that question for a later date. After navigating through a menu to get to the right department, he requests an urgent an appointment to check on—and I quote—"my baby." I can't deny the warmth I feel when he says that, just to know that Mariluz was completely right about him.

The appointment is made for lunch time, and I tell Xavi that I'm going to head back downstairs to work until then. I leave his room and head straight for Chris's studio, pulling out my phone as I drop onto the couch to inform said studio-owner of my location and the plan. After a moment mulling it over, I decide it's okay to tell Mariluz and Kyle the plan too, so I send a quick message to our group chat and wait for them to unleash their fury for disappearing on them again.

(ALT TEXT: Lola: Hey guys. I'm up in Chris's studio. Just talked to Xavi. We're going to the doctor at lunch to check on my uterine invader. Kyle: DON'T TALK ABOUT MY NIECE LIKE THAT. Lola: Xavi thinks it's a boy... Mariluz: OMG TOLD YOU *white heart emoji* Kyle: Does this mean I'm an uncle? OFFICIALLY? Lola: omg ky wait until after the appointment at least. Kyle: I can't, I'm about to check out with a total of $800 at Carter's online. Lola: KYLE DON'T)

With the stress of talking to Xavi out of the way and an appointment already set to confirm whether or not we're actually going to be parents, the exhaustion from not sleeping last night finally catches up with me. I quickly set an alarm on my phone for just before noon and kick my shoes off, relaxing fully into the couch with a heavy exhale and closed eyes. I'm asleep within a minute.

I wake to Xavi's face just inches from mine as he gently rocks me awake.

"Lola," he whispers. "They had a cancellation, we gotta go."

"Hm?" I sit up in confusion and yawn as I get my bearings. "We're leaving now?"

He nods, extending his hand for me. "How was work?" he teases, his voice still low.

"It was very rejuvenating," I snicker as I stand with his help.

We quietly make our way down the stairs and out the door, making it out completely unnoticed as far as I can tell. I expect to head to the Camaro parked in his spot that Mariluz took yesterday, but he leads me instead to a black Escalade beside it. As soon as we get in, it feels familiar. I have a feeling this is the one he was driving the night we first met.

It's a quiet Beverly Hills clinic that he takes me to, and it's so nice when we walk in that I'm instantly certain my insurance isn't accepted here. We don't even have to wait; as soon as Xavi checks me in, we're brought back to an exam room where my vitals are taken and some basic questions are asked. It feels weird to answer those questions with Xavi sitting right there, but I suppose I should get used to it. We may be stuck together for the next eighteen years whether we like it or not.

We're taken to a sonogram room afterward, where they do a transvaginal ultrasound on me. The ultrasound tech tells me it's too early to see anything from my belly, so up the hoo-ha it is. As soon as the image appears on the screen, I look away. I don't know if I want to see.

Will I be happy to see a baby, or sad? Will I be happy to not see a baby... or sad? I really don't know how I feel about it. All I really know is how I should feel about it, and that is that I shouldn't want a baby.

"Is that the baby?" Xavi asks inquisitively, leaning on my bed to see the screen better.

The tech smiles through pursed lips. "I'm not supposed to say anything, but yes," she giggles.

Well now I can't resist. I hesitantly turn my head to peak at the screen and see a small black space with the faintest little circle inside of it. It doesn't look like a baby, but it is. That knowledge is deeply sobering, and my whole body instantly feels numb.

I float through the rest of the appointment in a daze, going wherever Xavi tugs me along without really comprehending much. We meet the doctor next—an older Hispanic man with a burly build and a jolly smile—and he tells us about that little black spot on the sonogram.

His words are jumbled and nonsensical in my ears as he speaks, but I hear him mention the bleeding and say "subchorionic hematoma," so I listen closer. It's still mostly nonsense to my panicked brain, but the gist is clear: the baby and I are fine. There will, in fact, be a baby.

And now I need to throw up again.

Xavi doesn't say anything to me as we walk outside and get into the Escalade, and it leads me to believe he feels the gravity of this the same as I do. The engine purrs to life softly and his acoustic Mexican music starts streaming quietly through the speakers, and I hesitantly peak over at him. His head turns at the same time and he grins, his pale green eyes alight with an excitement that he didn't let onto at all before now.

"We should name him Xavi Junior!"

"That's what you have to say right now?" I ask him with an incredulous laugh.

His shoulders drop as he sighs, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Fine, Lolita if she's a girl."

"I'm not worried about the baby's sex right now, Xavi! I'm worried about the fact that we're having a baby!" I fire back in exasperation.

His face softens and he reaches over and grabs my left hand, holding it tight. "Xavi Junior is going to love you very much no matter what, so don't worry about it."

Laughter slips out of me begrudgingly as I shake my head in annoyance. "You're so unserious, Xavi!" I groan through it.

He's snickering along too, still gripping my hand tight. "Get used to it, 'cause you're stuck with me for a long time now."

"Don't remind me," I snicker sarcastically.

Xavi scoffs, feigning wounding. "You're hurting my feelings, Lola," he complains.

I smirk, unmoved. "You have those?"

"Oh fuck off, miss crazed fan," he retorts, rolling his eyes.

"Ah-ah! You're stuck with me!" I cackle as he turns forward in his seat.

He laughs too, smiling big as he starts reversing the car. "I know I am."