I Need to Talk to Tony

Everything stopped.

The words hung in the air, heavy… unreal.

My eyebrows pulled together, confusion flashing across my face. “Pardon?”

He looked at me over the rim of his glasses. His expression didn’t change.

“You. Are. Pregnant.”

Each word landed harder than the last.

My lips parted, but nothing came out at first. My brain lagged behind, struggling to catch up.

“What?” The word slipped out, barely a whisper. “That… that can’t be true.”

My hands pressed against the edge of the bed as I shifted forward, as if getting closer would somehow change what I heard. My mouth stayed slightly open, my breathing shallow.

He extended the file toward me.

“That’s what the report says.”

My fingers trembled as I took it from him. The paper felt too thin. Too fragile for something that heavy.

My eyes dropped to the page.

Words. Numbers. Medical terms.

Then—

Positive.

My vision blurred.

I blinked rapidly, trying to focus again, but the word didn’t disappear. It stayed there, bold, unforgiving.

Positive.

A sharp drop hit my chest— like my heart had just fallen straight through my body.

My legs started moving on their own, restless, bouncing, shifting. I couldn’t sit still. My entire body buzzed with something I couldn’t control.

“I… I didn’t come here for a pregnancy test,” I said, my voice faint, almost detached.

“I know,” the doctor replied calmly. “But pregnancy tests are standard protocol for female patients. And yours came out positive.”

My grip on the paper tightened.

I didn’t realize when I pushed myself off the bed, grabbed my backpack, and walked out. The ER dissolved into a blur— the sterile walls, the antiseptic smell, the murmurs of nurses— all fading as my feet carried me away.

The mile back to my dormitory was a haze.

—

My hand slammed against the door to my dorm.

It swung open.

My eyes immediately darted to the other side of the room.

Sarah my roommate lay sprawled across her bed, her blonde hair cascading over her pillow. Cynthia her best friend sat beside her, leaning in close, both of them mid‑conversation.

They didn’t even look up.

“Hey,” I said.

My voice sounded foreign.

I turned away before they could respond— if they even would. My feet carried me to my side of the room. My backpack slipped from my shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

I dropped onto my bed.

The frame squeaked loudly under my weight.

Still nothing from them.

Not even a glance.

My eyes drifted to the ceiling.

Blank.

Unlike my mind.

My stomach twisted.

My hand moved instinctively, hovering just above it. Flat. Nothing had changed. Nothing looked different.

What do I do?

The question hit me fast. Then another. And another.

Do I keep it? Can I even handle this alone?

Soft laughter echoed from across the room.

I didn’t turn.

It could be me they were laughing at.

It usually was.

But I didn’t care.

Not now.

Not when something far worse sat heavy in my chest.

My eyes slowly closed, my breathing uneven.

Tony.

His name alone made my chest tighten.

Tony Blackwood.

The only man I had ever been with.

My fingers curled into the sheets beneath me.

Of course it had to be him.

The Blackwood name wasn’t just a name. It was power. Legacy. Control.

This school existed because of his family.

Every building.

Every hallway.

Every brick.

And now—

I pressed my lips together, my throat tightening.

Now I was carrying his child.

A shaky breath left me as I turned onto my side. The breeze from the open window brushed against my face, strands of my black hair falling across my eyes.

I didn’t move them.

I just lay there.

Do I tell Tony?

My chest rose and fell slowly, but it didn’t calm me.

Nothing did.

---

Morning came too fast, the sun spilling across the massive corridors of campus. My footsteps echoed as I walked toward the lecture theaters. ECO 101 test awaited.

I had stayed up all night, eyes burning from pages of notes, trying to cling to the scholarship that was my lifeline. Eighty thousand dollars per semester— money my parents could never afford. Failure wasn’t an option.

The test began. Two hours vanished in a blink. My pen scratched across the paper, my answers incomplete. The future I’d imagined felt like it was slipping through my fingers.

I had always been an A student. Now, doubt gnawed at me. College was not high school. This was not the promise I made to my parents the night I left home— to make them proud. Just two months in, and I was already doing the opposite.

By evening, exhaustion weighed on me as I dragged myself along the tree‑lined pathways toward the dormitory hub. My decision had crystallized. I needed to talk to Tony. He had to know.

Climbing the stairs, I spotted Sarah and Cynthia descending, dressed like they were headed for a party or something. Their eyes flicked to me, laughter spilling out, mocking. Their gaze swept over me, head to toe, lingering with amusement.

We passed each other, and I glanced down at myself. My stomach was flat. They couldn’t have known. My worn blue shirt, and sneakers— that was what they mocked.

Inside the room, the encounter replayed in my mind. Pain pricked at me as I sat on the edge of my bunk. They had no right.

I wasn’t as cool as them, but I hadn’t asked them for favors either.

I lay back slowly, staring at the ceiling again.

But this time—

Only one thought remained.

Clear.

Loud.

Unavoidable.

I need to talk to Tony.

And I need to do it fast.