I pulled open the back door of Michelle’s house and passed through the kitchen. Around me, kids groaned, heaved and crawled like extras in a zombie movie. Out back, tents started coming down. Out front, cars pulled from the driveway one after the other. The people who were blocked drove over the lawn to escape, the tracks left in their wake an awful way to thank Michelle for hosting. I roused Devi and loaded her into my old Subaru, tilting her head toward the window so if she had to throw up, she’d do it away from me and my upholstery. I drove us home and lugged her up the apartment stairs with my arms around her waist, supporting almost all of her weight while I wrestled with my house key. We stumbled inside like we were competing in a three-legged race, silent as we made our way to my bedroom. Mom’s bedroom door was closed and her fan was on, so I knew she was still asleep. Grateful for the parental absence, I stripped Devi to her bra and panties and loaded her into my bed, leaving the trash barrel near her head in case of emergency spew.

I was tired and I wanted to sleep, but more than that, I was sore and sticky from all things truck. I hopped in the shower to hose off, scrubbing extra hard to eradicate Jack’s nasty from my person. Did you know that sperm swim fast? Like, super fast? I didn’t, and by the time I was topically de-sexed, it was far too late. Jack’s little dudes were speeding past Cervix Town and rushing north for Uterusville.

It was only a matter of time.

“So, I have some news, and I know you’re going to hate it, so I’m just going to rip off the Band-Aid. Do you want it now or do you want me to wait until after Devi goes home?” Mom asked at half past eleven from her position before the stove. She was all perky-looking in her tank top and size-nothing yoga pants, her blond hair piled on top of her head in a sloppy bun that made me think of a Real Housewife. I glanced back at my room. The door was still shut with Devi inside, so I was pretty sure my convo with Mom would be private unless Devi had developed bat sonar hearing overnight.

I looked up from my tea with sleep-soggy eyes. “Sure.”

“We’re moving in with your grandmother in August.”

I’d been reaching for a coffee mug, but I froze mid-reach. I was the possum in the middle of the road, watching the headlights approach and waiting to be run over.

“Uhhhh...”

It was the best I had.