Kyle, though, makes sure to come inside me every time, as if he’s really planning to impregnate me. The joke’s on him, though. Not only did I take the morning-after pill, but I also got myself a birth control prescription. My body reacted badly to the shot in my teens, so I had to resort to taking the pills. At the end of the day, this celebration is null and void. In a week or so, I’ll pretend I lost the child or that Kyle spoke too soon before we could make sure. Sergei will be sad, but he’ll understand the loss. Because there’s no way in hell I’d let Kyle put a baby inside me.
