𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

Even though I had previously almost died and dropped out of my classes at college, I decided to start back up for the winter quarter. It was a whole lot of paperwork at first, they had to make sure I didn't just drop out again, but I was finally re-enrolled in all my classes. 

Two of my classes were still online but I would have to drive up to Port Angeles once a week to take my other two classes in-person. I was excited to get back to school and figure out what I wanted to do with my life. 

I'd toyed around with a number of different ideas over the years. A hairstylist, that seemed fun but there wasn't a huge market for that on the res or in Forks. A nurse, that would be interesting but with my new phobia of blood, I think I'm okay. 

Lately, though, I'd been thinking about teaching. I loved school more than most and I enjoyed teaching and learning new things. And it wasn't a bad career move either. It would offer Paul and I enough stability, what with his salary from the tribe for being a protector and my teaching salary. And I was certain I could get a job either on the res or in Forks, most of the teachers were old and near retirement anyways. 

I was genuinely excited about being back in school and having declared my major but I wasn't prepared for how exhausting it would be. 

I was camped out at the kitchen table with my laptop and a cut of tea that had long since gone cold, surrounded by half-crumpled notebook paper and a textbook I barely had the energy to skim. The words were starting to blur together, but I was determined to finish the chapter before I let myself take a break. Maybe.

It was the second week of classes and already I felt like I was drowning in assignments and readings and a stupid midterm project topic I had to decide on by the end of the week. 

Jake walked in mid-yawn, rubbing the back of his neck as he passed me. "You've been sitting there since I left this morning," he said, reaching into the fridge, probably looking for something to eat. 

He'd been in the garage all morning, working on the Rabbit and apparently Bella was supposed to come over later to do... whatever it is they do out there all day, I'm really no sure. I would have to ask her about that when she came over later. 

"That was only like three hours ago," I mumbled, not looking up from my screen. I had to finish this assignment by midnight, and I was nowhere close to done. 

"Exactly." He shut the fridge with his hip and gave me a skeptical look. "You haven't moved."

"I moved," I defended with a shrug before mumbling, "I just came right back."

Jake raised a brow. "To do what? Stare at the same paragraph for another hour?"

I ignored him and kept typing, or trying to type, anyway. My brain felt like it was moving through molasses. I wasn't even sure if what I was writing made sense anymore, but I didn't have the energy to reread it.

"Liv?" My dad called from behind me, the wheels of his chair rolling across the hardwood. "You hungry?"

"No," I answered without looking away from my assignment, but then I sighed, turning away from the screen to look at my dad. "I mean, not really. I'll eat later."

That earned me a side glance from Jake. "You're turning down food? Okay, now I know something's wrong."

"I'm just tired," I said, dragging a hand through my hair. "School starting back up is kicking my ass."

My dad chuckled but then raised a brow at me. "You sure you're not trying to do too much at once? You just started feeling better after your..." He gave me a knowing look, "illness." 

Oh yes, my illness. How could I forget that my ex-boyfriend slash supposed soulmate left me for dead-- not intentionally but still. 

I gave my dad a reassuring smile. "I can handle it. Just need to get back into the rhythm, that's all."

Truthfully, I wasn't sure if it was just school. I'd always juggled things pretty well—assignments, work, family, Paul. But this kind of tired was new. It was like my bones were heavy. Like even sitting still was an effort. And the dull ache in my lower back had been nagging me since I woke up. Probably from how I slept. And the wooden kitchen chair wasn't doing my posture any favors either.

I blinked slowly at my screen. The sentence I'd just written looked like it belonged in a different language.

"Alright, you're done," Jake announced, stealing my laptop gently and shutting it halfway. "Go take a nap or something before you start drooling on the keyboard."

"I wasn't going to drool," I mumbled, though my eyelids were getting harder to keep open.

"Seriously, you look like you're about to fall asleep with your eyes open," he said, not unkindly. "Go lie down for a bit."

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "Fine. But only for like twenty minutes."

Jake smirked. "You say that every time and then sleep for three hours."

I didn't argue, mostly because he wasn't wrong.

I stood up, stretching slowly, wincing a little at the sore pull in my chest. Again.

It was nothing I hadn't felt before. I was probably getting sick or something. I should just take some Advil and stop thinking so hard about it.

Still, as I went back to my room, dragging the blanket from the back of the couch with me, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

I just wasn't sure what.

"Dirt bikes?" I asked, giving Bella a look of surprise.

She'd been over to my house every day for the last week, and I'd finally decided to question her about it. I wasn't expecting her to say it was dirt bikes though. Honestly, I wasn't sure what her and Jake were doing in the garage, I was too exhausted to inquire and just assumed they were, like, flirting or something.

"Dirt bikes?" I repeated, trying to make sense of it. "Really?"

She nodded like it was the most normal thing in the world, casually sipping her soda on the porch step like she hadn't just dropped a completely unexpected bomb.

"Jake's fixing them up," she said. "I figured... why not?"

I blinked at her, trying to picture Bella Swan on a dirt bike and immediately failing. She was the most clumsy girl I knew. Her on a bike was going to go about as well as one could expect. "And that sounds fun to you?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's something to do."

That was fair. I couldn't really judge her for trying to feel something. But still, it felt weird that I was just now hearing about it after she'd practically moved into our garage all week.

I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my hand over my face, suddenly more tired than I should've been for midday. I let out a groan, trying to rub the tired from my body.

"You okay?" Bella asked, raising a brow. "You look kind of pale."

I waved her off, yawning. "I'm fine. Just didn't sleep much."

"You've been saying that all week," she pointed out.

I didn't respond right away. Mostly because she wasn't wrong. I had been saying that all week. And it wasn't exactly a lie--I was tired. Bone-deep tired. But I also kept waking up in the middle of the night for no reason or' feeling like I needed to lie down again an hour after getting up.

"I think I've got that bug going around," I said, making it up on the spot. "Probably nothing."

Bella didn't push. She just nodded and turned her attention back to her drink.

I stood up to head inside and grab a cup of coffee, but the second I got to my feet, the porch seemed to dip beneath me—not much, just a half-second of unsteadiness, like my balance was half a beat behind the rest of me. I paused and blinked at the ground.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bella asked again, slower this time.

"Yeah," I said quickly. "Just stood up too fast."

I shook my head, my brows furrowing in confusion. What was going on with me lately? Pushing the thought aside, I headed into the house, Bella following right behind me. I started making a pot of coffee, pouring water in the back of the machine.

"So, how much longer do you have on the bikes? Are you planning on riding them or just fixing them up for something to do?" I pressed, wanting to figure out why exactly Bella was interested in these death traps.

I reached for the coffee canister, flipping open the lid with one hand while the other grabbed a filter. The familiar, sharp scent of coffee hit me before I'd even scooped anything out—normally I loved the smell, it was comforting and addicting. But today, the smell hit me wrong.

It wasn't that it was overwhelmingly bad. Just... off. Like it had turned bitter or gone bad or something. My stomach gave the tiniest lurch, and I froze with the scoop halfway to the machine. My nose scrunched up and I turned my head away from the coffee grounds, taking a moment to steady myself.

Bella didn't seem to notice. She was leaning against the counter, sipping from her soda. "We're getting close. Jake says we can probably try them in a couple days—he wants to test one first but, I convinced him to let me be there when he tries it."

I nodded, trying to focus on what she was saying, not the way my stomach was curling at the edges like a piece of paper too close to a flame. I dumped the scoop into the filter and closed the lid, a little too fast, like the sooner the smell was sealed away, the sooner the weird feeling would pass.

"You good?" Bella asked again, a crease forming between her brows.

"Yeah. I just..." I waved a hand vaguely in the air, trying to push down the unease that was slowly beginning to settle in my chest. "The coffee smells weird today, it's probably bad."

"Does coffee even go bad?" Bella leaned toward the coffee grounds, her nose scrunching as she sniffed the air. Then she shrugged. "It smells fine to me."

I didn't respond, just shrugged, wanting to move on. I wasn't sure what was going on with my lately. I felt off, like something was wrong but I wasn't sure what. I busied myself by grabbing a mug from the cabinet, more out of habit than desire, and leaned against the counter while the machine sputtered to life behind me. The scent was still there—faint but enough to make me wish I'd just skipped it entirely.

I rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand and glanced out the window toward the garage. Jake had the hood of the rabbit propped open again, and he was elbow-deep in whatever project he was currently obsessed with.

"You sure you're not getting sick?" Bella asked, her tone taking on a bit of worry and I hated it. I didn't want to worry her. Not when she'd finally, finally, started to get back to her usual self.

"Positive," I lied, a little too quickly. "It's probably just my period or something."

I said the words without thinking, it made sense, after all. Bella didn't even react to them. She just nodded and glanced toward the garage window again like she hadn't heard anything unusual.

But my mind had suddenly gone very, very quiet.

Period.

When was the last time I...

I stared blankly at the counter, the low gurgle of the coffee machine suddenly too loud in the background. I wasn't exactly regular, but I usually had a general idea of when to expect it. And now that I was thinking about it... I couldn't remember the last time I'd had it.

A couple weeks ago? No... it was right after Thanksgiving and that was... I counted the weeks in my head, calculating them out.

My heart skipped in a way that made my stomach twist again, only this time it wasn't the coffee.

No. No, that wasn't possible.

I shook my head slightly, like that would scatter the thought before it had a chance to settle. There were plenty of reasons to be late. Stress, lack of sleep, the fact that my mate was a literal shape shifting werewolf and who knows what kinds of thigs the mate bond could change--I'm sure it could throw off a cycle by a bit, right? And I'd been tired before. And nausea could mean anything.

I was fine.

Totally, completely fine.

I forced myself to grab the coffee mug even though the smell still didn't sit right. I took a sip to prove something to myself and instantly regretted it. My stomach didn't rebel, but it definitely didn't approve either.

"Jake said the bikes might be ready by Friday if we work some longer hours," Bella was saying, totally unaware of the war waging in my head. "He wants to try the trails behind the rez."

"Mm, cool," I said, nodding absently.

But I wasn't hearing her anymore. I was counting days. Trying to remember things I hadn't been paying attention to. Wondering if I could sneak off to the bathroom and check the calendar on my phone without her noticing.

It didn't mean anything. Probably. Hopefully.

I was only seventeen for crying out loud. And Paul was only seventeen and... we weren't ready for that yet. No. Everything was fine.

But I couldn't ignore the tugging unease in my chest and the doubt that was swirling in my mind. One thing was for certain, as soon as Bella left for the garage, I would need to check my calendar and then maybe buy a test.

Fuck me.

A/N: So.... is Olivia pregnant or no? I guess we'll have to wait and see... Comment your predictions!!