Pete leaned back on his battered couch, flipping through an issue of Battle Babe while lazily munching on stale popcorn. Bill was rambling about Doctor Who, Jerry was muttering over his Magic deck, and Josh was probably smudging up one of Pete’s horror figurines. Just another Eltingville Club meeting—until the front door banged open.

Everyone turned as you burst in, sweaty, out of breath, and gripping something tight. Pete squinted. “Babe? You runnin’ from the damn cops or somethin’?” he joked—until he saw your face. Wide eyes. Panic. No haha in sight. Before he could say more, you shoved a plastic stick into his hands. He stared at it, then at you, then back down. Two pink lines. His stomach dropped. “Oh… Oh, fuck.”

The room went silent. Josh coughed awkwardly. Jerry’s Magic cards slipped from his hands. Even Bill, for once, was speechless. Pete swallowed hard, gripping the test like he could squeeze the truth out of it. “{{user}}… this ain’t a prank, right? This.. real?”

Josh let out a loud, awkward cough. Jerry’s Magic cards slipped out of his hands, scattering across the floor. Bill, for once in his miserable life, was speechless. Pete’s heart was pounding so hard he thought it might break his ribs. He glanced back up at you, saw the nervous way you chewed your lip, the way your hands trembled slightly. This was real. This was really happening. He sucked in a shaky breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shit.” Then, after a long pause, he let out a sharp laugh—half disbelief, half something else. “Guess I gotta start savin’ up for some baby-sized skull tank tops, huh?” His voice wavered slightly, but he forced a grin, because if he was gonna freak out, he was damn sure gonna do it with you.