Carmen:

It was a dream.

He loved the apartment I found, making me call up the realtor to sign for him by the next day. He flew in the weekend after, right before I was due to start the spring semester.

We went to buy furniture, arguing playfully over lamps and what color scheme to do the bathroom. He wanted blues and greens, while I wanted blacks and whites. We left the store with tastefully clashing furniture and things definitely nobody needed in their house, like a fancy egg cooker and a lamp with a lightbulb that changed colors.

We fell asleep on the sofa an hour after they delivered it, and when we woke up we stumbled out of his apartment in search of food. There was a place on the corner that sold the best pizza.

He strummed up some song ideas while I laid next to him and listened. "I like the sound of this." He'd mutter to himself after a couple of minutes, taking the pen out from behind his ear and pressing it against his notebook. I'd glance at it curiously every few minutes, seeing the scribbles upon scribbles of his handwriting. They were messy, some words bigger and bolder than the others. I managed to see the number 7 on one page multiple times, each number growing bigger while it circled a giant black 7 in the middle of the page. "I see you." He teased, pulling me out of my snooping.

"Don't know what you're talking about." I laughed, leaning against him and plucking a hand through the strings of the guitar.

"Wanna give it a go?" He offered.

He guided my fingers for a couple of minutes, then left me to do it on my own. "You're laughing at me." I accused.

"Am not. I just love the way you look right now. Well, always. But right now, you look breathtaking."

I rolled my eyes, but he caught my face with his hands and tried to prove himself with his mouth. We made our way to the bedroom and used up his new bed.

I woke up the next morning and imagined something along this picture for the rest of my life. Van with his bare back to me, arms slung over the pillow and his hair curling around his face. He was letting it grow out a bit, but none of that "feathery shit" he'd had before, as he loved to say.

The thought of seeing this every morning for the rest of my life made my heart thud erratically. It seemed so near, so certain.

I was crossed legged on his sofa a couple hours later while he tried to cook pasta. I could hear him swearing every few minutes, "that bloody tomato sauce" being one of the most popular phrases. I played with the necklace he'd given me for Christmas, a silver chain with a little van charm. I remembered how adorable I'd thought it was.

"Something to remember how much you've got me wrapped around you." He'd laughed while I gazed at the necklace in awe.

"Babe, you need help?" I called out to him now, looking at the movie I'd settled on on the television.

"No way, I've got it." He called back, a loud bang making me jump.

"Are you sure?"

Something splashed on the ground. "Shit!"

I got up and walked to the kitchen, spotting the sauce smeared on the counter and the noodles now lying on the ground, the strainer lying off to the side. I brought my hands to my mouth to keep a laugh from escaping. "Oh no."

"Don't laugh." He said, but his voice sounded on the edge of laughter too. I couldn't help it. "Christ." He finally broke down, stepping over the noodles.

"Here, you clean that and I'll get another pot of noodles boiling."

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Van:

She ended up making the pasta while I just hovered around her.

"Now you're just trying to beat me." I laughed as she smugly mixed the noodles and sauce together.

"Am not!" She responded.

"Want a beer?" I walked over to the fridge, taking out two bottles.

"Is that all you went to get at the grocery store Van?"

"No, I got the sauce and noodles. And the cereal we ate."

"Dry, cause you forgot milk."

"I don't want it to spoil when I go back to London." I reasoned. My phone rang, making me look down and see the name. Christ. I declined the call and set it back on the table, taking another drink from mine.

"Who was that?" She asked casually.

I could've said it was nobody. Martin trying to give me another go for giving up a festival date to be here. Or telemarketing shit, whatever. Anything else. But I was trying out this new thing where I was trying to not hide anything from Carmen in hopes of not upsetting her. Trying to hide anything usually backfired anyway.

"It was Abby." I said quietly.

"What, why?"

"She's been like this ever since the week we flew back in last month. Even before that, since the show. Came to stop by the flat and stayed there for half an hour until Bondy swore I wasn't home. Total nutter. I don't know how I got tangled up with her to begin with." I shut my mouth after this.

Carmen stirred the noodles calmly, but knowing her she might have been going over what I'd said repeatedly through her mind. "Oh."

"You know I"-

"I know Van." She reassured me. She didn't sound angry or upset. She just sounded normal.

"Ok." I said, and we ate pasta and watched tv. I drank her beer because I knew she didn't like it much. "Just quit already." I said while I watched her put the cigarette to her mouth. "I know you don't like it."

"If I didn't like it why would I keep doing it?" She asked, making a face at me.

"I know it relieves your nerves, but I see it in your face. You said it yourself, you hate the taste of it." I watched her shake her head and stand up, moving to the window. "I'll quit if you will."

"No you won't." She said in disbelief.

"If it means that you do."

"Van."

I walked over to the table and took the pack of fags I'd left on there. I walked over to the trash can, making sure she saw me dump the pack in and then turn to look at her. "There."

"Van."

"I might be, ya know, too into it to stop. But you can do it. I know you want to. It's addicting, but we can find something else to take the stress off."

"I don't have stress." She shook her head, dropping the hand holding her cigarette from her mouth.

"Is it cause of your job?"

"I was lucky to find that job." She clarified.

"Is it because your rent went up?" She shook her head. "Is it because....I'm so far away?"

"Wouldn't you like that?" She responded, the corner of her lips turning up. I stepped forward and reached for the cigarette in her hand. She let me have it, looking on ahead as I snapped it in two.

Her phone rang from her bag. "Hello?" Her face lit up for a moment. "Hi! Yeah, no I'm at Van's right now. Tonight? Uh huh. Yes I know I promised. Nope. Of course. What time? That's in an hour. You honestly-No. Of course not. Uh huh. Yes, I'm sure he will. Alright, see you in a few."

"Who was it?"

"You remember my friend Nicole right?"

I moved my hand. "Sort of. Isn't she friends with Zach?"

"Yes."

"Right, well then."

"They're two different people. Besides, Nicole has been a great friend. And she knows you from what I've told her and she can't wait to meet you." She smiled.

"And she's meeting me...?"

"In an hour. I promised her we'd go to this party she's throwing for a friend. It's his birthday."

"Do you think Zach will be there?"

"What does it matter?" She threw her arms around my neck. "He probably won't be, because Nicole told him we're going and that he better not do anything weird."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I told you, Nicole knows a lot. And she wasn't weird about it because of Zach. I don't know, I guess she might have been rooting for us? She's very sweet and you'll like her, promise." She kept smiling sweetly, tapping her fingers along the back of my neck.

"Fine fine fine."

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Carmen:

Jesse: Hope you're having fun with Van, tell him I said hey bugger

Also, Mark is staying over again tonight so don't feel pressured to come to my rescue :/

Lol but that doesn't mean you know, never show up around here again, you are paying half the rent

I smiled at Jesse's texts, writing a response while Van and I walked to the car. "I'm dying to get a Camaro." He moaned as we passed a red one gleaming next to my car. "Christ, that'd be class."

"What color would you get it?" I slid into the drivers seat.

"Cherry red. Flashy. One that screams 'hey lads I have no self control anymore'."

I laughed, turning on the ignition. "Honestly, I think that would fit you."

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"Carmen! Van right?! Ohmygod, look at you both!" Nicole stepped back to let us, bringing a hand against her face.

"Hey Carmen!"

"Hey Car."

"Yo!"

"Never met these friends of yours before." Van spoke into my ear.

"I just know them through Nicole." I shrugged, grabbing his hand.

Nicole bombarded Van with questions. "She's cheery." He remarked while she went to grab some drinks. "But she seems class." A couple people wandered over to say hi to me, while some recognized Van. It was like two worlds colliding.

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We made our way back to Van's around two. It felt so nice to know that Van would be here, even if he wasn't. It was strange, but comforting, to know that even though he wouldn't be living in it completely all the time, there was now a piece of him solidified in this apartment.

I held onto his hand while he unlocked the door. I wasn't tipsy, he was a little. But it was just that beginning drunk where he moved a little slower and smiled a bit wider. His hands moved through my hair once we got to his couch.

"Let's get you to bed."

"Stay with me?" He said, smiling lazily.

"Why should I?" I teased, feeling his arms snake around me.

"Ooh please." He pouted.

"Oh alright. Come on let's get to bed." I helped him to the room, even though I knew he was perfectly capable on his own.

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I checked up on the apartment when Van was gone. "Leave some of your things there." He'd said the last time he left. "The drawers are all yours."

I left some clothes there, but for the most part I came and went the same day.

I worked at a bookstore near school for the time being. Maybe it was a little less pay than working at Thredz, but it was a cool atmosphere and I got along with my coworkers.

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It was there finishing up a closing shift that I got the pain. It felt like someone had been stabbing me right in the abdomen, and the books I was shelving fell out of my hands as I bent awkwardly, grinding my teeth together.

"Carmen?" Andrea, one of my coworkers, came striding over, her voice worried. "Carmen, what's wrong?"

"Ah!" I let myself completely crumple, the pain not giving up.

I felt something hard throb in my stomach, and something trickle down my leg. "Something's happening to my friend, she can't move." I heard Andrea speaking loudly, grinding my teeth again. The pain didn't waver, but it did have moments where it got worse, and I shut my eyes and laid down, trying to breathe. I felt a bolt of pain that ran all the way to my shoulder, and I don't remember much after.

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What is an ectopic pregnancy?

An ectopic pregnancy, or tubal pregnancy, is a complication of pregnancy in which the embryo attaches outside the uterus. Signs and symptoms include abdominal pain and bleeding. The fetus is most unlikely to survive.

I listened to the doctor explain this in a soothing voice, her face sympathetic. I stared numbly while she talked, hearing her mention tobacco smoking as a particular risk factor. I itched for one of the cigarettes in my bag. The dressing gown I'd been changed into fell open in the back, and tremors ran through my entire body.

It wasn't me. She wasn't talking about me. Pregnancy meant morning sickness and other symptoms. Noticeable symptoms. Pregnancy meant a missed period.

When had I gotten my period last?

Two months ago, the last week of November. No, that couldn't be right. I'd gotten it December hadn't I? It would have been around the week of New Year's. Van and the guys had come down, including Larry and his new girlfriend. We'd spent the night bar hopping, Van spilling a glass of something on both of us while trying to pull me in for a kiss as the ball dropped on tv. The stain had only gotten partly out of my shirt.

I didn't remember getting my period. I just remembered Van cursing as the liquid splashed on both of us, his face softening as he pulled me in for a kiss.

I clenched my legs together, shutting my eyes and digging my fingers into my hair.

No, she wasn't talking about me. Pregnancy was not something in my orbit. A fetus, a baby, that was another plane.

The fetus is most unlikely to survive. I'm so sorry.

No, she wasn't talking about me.

I thought of Van giving me a kiss last weekend at the airport, saluting with that look on his face that meant he was dying to tell me a joke but he did't have the chance to anymore. I thought of Van looking at me while holding a baby in his arms, laughing about something. I couldn't picture it. My head hurt just thinking about it.