Every Little Thing

44

|| Evelyn ||

Morning sunshine and the smell of bacon greets me when I wake. The second of these things confuses me as I slowly rise from my position on the couch, because Reed is supposed to be at work and no one else knows about—

My jaw nearly hits the floor as I look up to see Georgina Zhang, dressed in jeans and a Tommy Hilfiger sweater, tying her hair into a knot as she stands in the kitchen, fervently shifting bacon around a frying pan.

What the hell is going on?

Just when I'm about to make an attempt to speak, she looks up and catches my eye, smiling.

"Oh, good, you're up. Reed left you a note over there."

She waves her spatula towards the counter, where I see the slip of paper and—

Is that Mr. Bunny?

I struggle to my feet, walking over and touching the soft, familiar felt of my ragged old bunny rabbit—the same one I told Reed about on our way back from New York. I nearly laugh, but my mind is racing too fast. Georgie's here, cooking bacon. Cooking bacon, it seems, for me.

Shaking my head, I pick up the note between two fingers and begin to read.

E,

Surprise. I bribed your best friend into coming back for you.

Kidding. In truth, I kind of yelled at her over the phone, but who needs details?

Anyways, I'm at work and won't be back until six. I'm assuming that, even without your ability to speak, you two might be able to make up.

Fingers crossed.

I'll see you tonight (and good luck),
Reed

P.S. I told her to bring the rabbit over. Figured he could replace me while I'm away.

I can't help but laugh at the thought—Reed, red-faced and angry, screaming at Georgina through his phone. It seems almost unreal.

Nevertheless, here she is. She watches me carefully, as if I'm a rabid dog about to bite. I simply walk around her, sitting on one of the barstools that face the stove. Her eyes are full of guilt.

"I'm so sorry, Evie," she says, and her eyes force themselves up to mine, "About us, and what I said, and—and what happened. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it."

I swallow, despite the burning in my throat. She seems so genuine, standing here with tears in her eyes and a half-hearted smile pulling at her lips. My heartstrings tug in spite of myself, and I know she's telling the truth. Because with or without problems, a best friend is a best friend. That doesn't just disappear.

I don't make a sound as I lean forward and drag my notebook towards myself, flipping to an empty page and writing,

I forgive you.

At the three, printed words, Georgina bursts into tears. She turns off the stove and rushes to hug me, her grip tight and painful, but familiar. I hug her back, as hard as possible, as she cries into my shirt. She cries so hard I fear her tear ducts will give out, but I'm thankful for the love. I've been in need of a Georgina Zhang hug for a very long time.

"I'm sorry, Evie, I'm so sorry."

She pulls away, mopping at her eyes, and I give her hand a squeeze.

It's okay, Georgie, I write, and then again, I forgive you.

She smiles down at the words, sniffing.

"It's just—I—" she releases a long, shuddering breath. "I have something to tell you."

I raise my eyebrows as she moves back to her former spot, dishing out bacon onto a paper plate and setting out napkins, muttering under her breath and fiddling with nearby objects to seemingly busy herself. Her hands, I realize, are shaking.

What is it? I scribble, What's wrong, Georgina?

"Um," she says, twisting her hands together nervously, "I—I don't know how to—"

I lift my paper and point to the sentence I'd written just minutes before: It's okay.

She lets out another breath. Her eyes dart to practically everywhere but my face, as if she wants to avoid my eyes at all costs. I watch her, feeling more and more concerned by the second.

Georgie? I try to ask, but only a slight whisper comes out. Georgie, just tell me. Just spit it out.

And even though she can't hear me, she closes her eyes and takes another breath. One, two, three beats pass. I wait, my fingernails digging into my palms. My heart is racing. What could it be? What could possibly be this hard to muster?

And then, she says it. And my entire world shatters into pieces, all over again.

"Evelyn, I'm pregnant."