Positively Mine Read Online Free

there’re a lot of questionable people in these parts.”
    “I’ll call you if I run into any trouble.” I smile.
    “All right, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
    I turn to his friends to say goodbye, but they’re in drunk bro zone. So I give them a lame wave and close the door.
    My head has barely hit the pillow when I begin to feel really, really queasy. It starts out slow – just this tinge of something off in my stomach.
Why did I drink those beers?
    I turn to my side and hope it will pass, but the feeling begins to grow, and before I know what hits me I am grabbing for my garbage can and hurling. And hurling again. And again.
    Chills and sweat take turns tormenting me as my body seems to have lost all ability to regulate temperature. And it keeps on coming until well after I’ve thrown up everything I’ve had to drink and eat in the last day. Ugh!
    Finally I manage to inch my way back to bed, clawing my comforter around me. I pull my pillow over my head – which is pounding – and wait for sleep to give me some mercy. The birds are singing outside my window before I am able to drift off.

Chapter Four
    The sour smell of vomit wakes me a few hours later. Unable to tolerate it, I take my garbage can down the hall to the bathroom and dump its contents into a toilet, then shed my clothes and climb into a shower. With the diversion of an upset stomach now gone and the silence of a dorm post-party, there is nothing to distract my mind, and I am unable to block the intense feeling that begins rising up in my chest as I’m forced to face the truth.
I’m fucking pregnant!
And I have no idea what to do about it.
    I squeeze my eyes shut and let the hot water pummel my face.
    Do I tell my father? Do I tell the baby’s father? How?
    My heart begins pounding like I’m running a marathon, and adrenaline floods my system. I take a few deep breaths and try to focus on something, anything, to calm myself down. I force myself to listen to the sounds of people trickling into the bathroom, squeaky faucets turning on in the stalls on either side of me.
    Once all three showers are going at the same time, the hot water runs out fast.
    “Oh, man. There’s no more hot water again,” comes from the stall to my left.
    “Dammit!” from the one to my right.
    But for me, the cold proves a good thing. The snap of icy water lowers the volume of my mind instantly. I stand in it for a few minutes, and it numbs me just enough.
    Realizing I don’t have a towel, I wrestle with my shirt and leggings as they adhere to every last inch of my wet body. When I’m finally dressed in sopping clothes, the bathroom has cleared, allowing me to slither back to the solitude of my room without small talk. But the lingering stench hits me as soon as I open the door. I force my one lone window as wide as it will go and stick my head out to breathe the fresh air. I’ve got to get out of this room, out of this dorm, and off this campus for a while.
    Reaching for my jewelry box, I push aside the bracelets, rings and necklaces my dad has given me over the years. There are quite a few as he doesn’t seem to notice I’m not much of a jewelry person. Underneath the sparkling beads, Tiffany silver and 14 karat gold is a single key. I add it to my key chain and place it into my backpack, trying to ignore the envelope full of decisions I have to make.
    On my laptop, I pull up a map of the Finger Lakes and plot how long the ride would be to Dresden.
Eighteen miles
. On any other day I could do it. Do I have it in me today?
    Once I throw on some riding clothes and toss my wet hair into a ponytail, I feel ready.
A day to think
. I make my way to the bike rack, passing bed-headed, bloodshot dorm mates stumbling to the bathroom for an inevitable cold shower. And just before taking off, I slide my hand into my backpack, into the manila envelope, and reach for one of those horse-pill vitamins lying at the bottom, swallowing one with my water. Just in