Twenty-one of them to be exact. Some have smiling faces, plus-signs, double lines, or plainly say, “Pregnant.” Well, except for one, it reads negative, and that would be Madison’s. It was just for shits and giggles. Ha, ha… real funny. We both sit on the edge of my bathtub, staring at the display in front of us. “What are the motherfuckin’ chances?” Madison lets out on a sigh. “I need to go by a lottery ticket. I either have a great chance at winning or getting struck by lightning. The odds are obviously in my favor.” “I need to get drunk.” “I’m the pregnant one! Why do you need to get drunk?” I ask her. “Sympathy pains.” “Okay, first things first…” “Yeah, you need to call the guys. OHMYGODI’MGOINGTOTHROWUP!” Mads yells before running into the bathroom and gagging. “What are you doing?” I yell at her. “I told you… sympathy pains.” She comes out, wiping her mouth and looking a little green. Maybe she is sick.
