I stared at the bag of fast food.

Devi nudged it my way.

“Guaranteed to cheer you up,” she said.

On one hand, a depressed hunger strike was totally warranted.

On the other hand...

I am the cheeseburger queen.

I tore open the paper and did terrible, awful, unspeakable things to those double-beef patties.

I was in full Eeyore-mode, and had been since leaving Morgan’s the night before. Leaf was ever-courteous, so nice! Very generous and caring all the way through both Guardians of the Galaxy movies. And very clearly not into me anymore. I thought at first I was just imagining it—being hypersensitive because of the ebb and flow of hormones—but no, Devi noticed it, too. When we climbed into the car, she asked about my long face.

“I told Leaf about the baby. He’s done, I guess.”

I almost cried saying it, which was dumb, considering I’d just met the guy, but he’d become representative of something bigger along the way. He was another missed opportunity thanks to Sara’s Big Bouncing Truck Adventure—in the same category as my going to an Ivy League school post-baby. Possible, but not very likely because things were going to change.

“That explains it. He got quiet after you two talked.” Devi pulled the car out onto the road to take me home. “But hey, he seems like a great friend to have, yeah?”

“Yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound positive, but I was hurting and she knew it. She dropped me off, let me sleep and the next day, as soon as I texted her in the morning to say hello, she informed me she was coming over to my house. So I should brush my teeth because morning breath was anti-friendship. Fortunately, neither Mom nor Mormor objected to the impromptu visit.

It didn’t hurt that Devi primed that pump by bringing them coffee from Dunks and me a bag of Burger King.

Mmm. Burger.

The sandwich that would have normally taken me twelve bites to get through was devoured in five.

“He may just need a little time,” Devi said, jumping right into it. She popped a chicken nugget into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Maybe he just needs to think about it and figure out what he wants to do?”

I collapsed onto my pile of pillows. “I doubt it. He barely knows me. I’m just bummed out because everything’s changing and there’s not a lot I can do about it. Like, dude, check this out.” I leaned back and rolled down the top of my pajama pants, pointing at my midsection where a gentle swell had had the audacity to ripen. Not a lot, just a touch, but I knew it was there—had noticed it for the first time that morning.

I’d blame it on cheeseburgers, but fat was soft. The Stomach was not soft.