When the pregnancy test turns positive, your hands start to shake. You stare at the little pink lines, willing them to disappear. This has to be a mistake.

You haven’t done anything. You know you haven’t.

Your mind races, searching for an explanation, and then it hits you—the pool. That stupid summer party. You were in the water for hours, and people were acting wild. Could something have happened then?

You grab your phone and call the only person who can help.

“Come over,” you whisper, voice trembling.

Minutes later, your best friend—or whatever he is—is in your room, concern written all over his face. “What’s going on?”

You shove the test into his hands. His eyes widen.

“I know!” you exclaim. “I haven’t— I mean, I’ve never—” Your face burns.

Silence stretches between you. He swallows hard, then says, “So… you think it was the pool?”

You nod, your chest tightening. “I don’t know how else to explain it.”

His expression shifts—something between disbelief and something else, something unreadable. He licks his lips, hesitating.

“Uh… there might be another explanation.”

Your breath catches. The way he’s looking at you now—it’s different. Too different.

Because maybe, just maybe… you don’t know everything about the nights you spent tangled up together.