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Daniela Avanzini met Megan Skiendiel in the world’s saddest college film club.
Not sad because of the movies. The movies were fine. Pretentious sometimes, but fine.
Sad because every Thursday at seven p.m., twelve exhausted media students sat in a room that smelled like dust and overheated laptop chargers while a guy named Theo explained symbolism like he personally invented it.
“See, the red curtain represents emotional decay,” Theo said dramatically.
Megan whispered from beside Daniela, “Or maybe the director just found a red curtain.”
Daniela snorted so hard iced coffee came out her nose.
That was the first real conversation they ever had.
After that, Megan started sitting next to her every week. Not in a smooth way either. She’d just shuffle in late wearing giant hoodies that smelled vaguely like cigarette smoke and vanilla body spray and collapse into the chair beside Daniela like she’d been legally assigned there.
Megan was awkward in a painfully obvious way.
Like, visibly awkward.
She tripped over backpacks constantly. She laughed too loud when nervous. She had this terrible habit of making eye contact for half a second too long and then panicking and looking at the floor.
She also smoked outside between screenings even though everybody made fun of her for it.
“You know vaping exists,” Daniela told her once.
Megan shrugged. “Vapes are spiritually embarrassing.”
“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
“Thank you.”
Daniela honestly didn’t know why she kept hanging out with her.
Megan was kind of a loser.
Not in a mean way. Just objectively.
She worked part-time at a convenience store three nights a week, borrowed money constantly, had failed her driver’s test twice, and lived with three roommates in an apartment that apparently had “mold politics.”
Daniela didn’t even ask what that meant.
Still, Megan made her laugh harder than almost anyone else.
And Megan looked at Daniela like she’d personally invented sunlight.
Which was dangerous.
Because Daniela liked attention.
A lot.
Especially from people she shouldn’t want it from.
“You’re staring again,” Daniela told her one night as they walked back from class.
Megan immediately looked horrified. “Was I?”
“Yes.”
“I literally wasn’t.”
“You literally were.”
Megan rubbed her face. “Okay, but in my defense, you’re very symmetrical.”
Daniela burst out laughing.
“Oh my God. What does that even mean?”
“It means your face is, like… mathematically stressful.”
“That’s somehow the least attractive compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
Megan groaned. “I’m trying my best.”
Daniela bumped her shoulder anyway.
And that was the problem.
Megan was weirdly sweet.
Not smooth-sweet. Not hot-person sweet.
Pathetic sweet.
Like carrying Daniela’s bag without asking because she complained her shoulder hurt.
Like memorizing her coffee order accidentally.
Like sending her videos at two a.m. captioned this raccoon looks exactly like you.
Daniela told herself repeatedly that Megan was not her type.
At all.
Megan wore the same black Converse every day until they literally split open at the sides.
She owned exactly one decent jacket.
She had zero game whatsoever.
One time she tried flirting by saying, “You seem like you’d survive a zombie apocalypse.”
Daniela stared at her for a full ten seconds.
“Do you think that was sexy?”
Megan looked genuinely thoughtful.
“…A little?”
Still, Daniela kept ending up around her.
At parties.
After classes.
Late-night grocery runs.
Corner store snack trips.
Megan somehow became part of her life without Daniela noticing when exactly it happened.
And maybe Daniela liked the attention more than she admitted.
Maybe she liked how Megan always listened.
Maybe she liked that Megan never pretended to be cooler than she was.
Maybe she liked the way Megan’s face turned pink whenever Daniela touched her arm.
Whatever.
It wasn’t important.
At least, it wasn’t supposed to be.
Then came the party.
The party happened in late October in a disgusting off-campus house with sticky floors and Christmas lights hanging year-round for “ambience.”
Daniela almost didn’t go.
But her roommate Sophia dragged her there after saying, “You’ve been dramatic all week and need alcohol immediately.”
Which, honestly, fair.
Daniela showed up in a tiny black top and jeans and immediately got handed something neon blue in a plastic cup.
“Probably poison,” Sophia warned.
“Awesome.”
About an hour later Daniela found Megan sitting alone in the kitchen eating dry cereal from a mug.
“Megan.”
Megan looked up slowly.
“Oh,” she said. “Hi.”
“You look miserable.”
“I got overwhelmed.”
“You came to a party voluntarily.”
“That was my first mistake.”
Daniela laughed and leaned against the counter.
Megan looked unfairly good that night.
Still awkward, unfortunately.
But good.
Dark hair falling in her face. Rings on her fingers. Smudged eyeliner like she’d rubbed her eyes too much.
Daniela stole some cereal from her mug.
“You’re drunk,” Megan observed.
“A little.”
“You become meaner when you’re drunk.”
“That’s not true.”
“You called Theo ‘a sentient fedora’ thirty minutes ago.”
Daniela grinned.
“He heard me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Megan started laughing quietly into her cereal.
Daniela watched her for a second too long.
Megan noticed immediately and nearly choked.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you looked at me weird.”
“You’re weird.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Daniela stepped closer without really thinking about it.
Megan froze.
Actually froze.
Like somebody hit pause on her entire nervous system.
Daniela could literally see the panic happening behind her eyes.
Which should’ve been a warning sign.
Instead it was kind of cute.
“You know,” Daniela said softly, “you get really nervous around me.”
“I wonder why.”
“You’re doing it right now.”
Megan swallowed hard.
“I’m trying not to.”
“Why?”
Megan looked at her like Daniela had personally set her on fire.
Then she said, very quietly:
“Because if I say what I’m thinking, I’m gonna embarrass myself.”
Daniela’s stomach flipped.
Which was annoying.
Because Megan Skiendiel was not supposed to have that effect on her.
“What are you thinking?” Daniela asked.
Megan stared at her for one long horrible second.
Then:
“That I’ve wanted to kiss you since September.”
Oh.
Oh, that was—
That was genuinely unexpected.
Daniela blinked.
Megan immediately looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole.
“Actually,” Megan said quickly, “forget I said that. Like immediately. We can literally pretend—”
Daniela grabbed the front of her hoodie and kissed her.
Megan made the most startled noise Daniela had ever heard in her life.
For a second she didn’t even kiss back.
Then suddenly she did.
And wow.
Okay.
That was also unexpected.
Megan kissed like she was terrified Daniela might disappear.
Careful at first. Nervous.
Then a little desperate.
Daniela pulled back just enough to look at her.
Megan looked completely stunned.
“You kiss better than I expected,” Daniela admitted.
“That’s the meanest possible compliment.”
“But true.”
Megan laughed shakily.
“You are so scary.”
“You like it.”
Megan looked at her for a second.
Then, somehow, she smiled.
“Yeah,” she admitted. “Unfortunately.”
That should’ve been the end of it.
A drunk makeout in a kitchen.
Embarrassing but harmless.
Instead, an hour later, Daniela ended up upstairs in one of the bedrooms with Megan sitting beside her on a mattress that definitely belonged in a landfill.
Megan looked like she might throw up from nerves.
“You okay?” Daniela asked.
Megan covered her face.
“No, actually.”
Daniela laughed. “You’re acting like I’m about to execute you.”
“I have literally never done this before.”
Daniela paused.
“…Wait. Seriously?”
Megan looked mortified.
“Can you not react like that?”
“Oh my God.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, no, hold on.” Daniela stared at her. “You’re a virgin?”
Megan groaned so loudly.
“Please don’t say the word virgin like that.”
Daniela couldn’t stop laughing.
“Megan.”
“I know.”
“You’ve seriously never—”
“I KNOW.”
Daniela flopped sideways onto the mattress wheezing.
“This is insane.”
“Thank you,” Megan said flatly. “I feel super normal right now.”
Daniela looked over at her.
Megan genuinely seemed nervous. Like actually nervous.
Not fake nervous.
And suddenly Daniela felt kind of bad.
“Hey,” she said softer.
Megan peeked at her through her fingers.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
Megan dropped her hands slowly.
“I do want to.”
“You sure?”
Megan nodded.
Then, after a pause:
“I just really didn’t think my first time would happen because you bullied me in a kitchen.”
Daniela laughed so hard she nearly rolled off the bed.
“Shut up.”
“You literally called me emotionally unemployed last week.”
“You were emotionally unemployed.”
Megan smiled nervously.
Then Daniela kissed her again.
And after that, things spiraled extremely fast.
In a very drunk, messy, chaotic way.
The hookup itself was awkward sometimes.
Mostly because Megan kept panicking.
At one point she stopped entirely and went:
“Wait, are you actually enjoying this or are you just being polite?”
Daniela stared at her.
“Megan. Oh my God.”
“I’m serious.”
“You are catastrophically insecure.”
“I’m aware.”
But somehow that made it sweeter.
More honest.
And Daniela hated admitting it, but Megan treated her carefully. Like she mattered.
Which wasn’t something Daniela was used to from hookups.
Afterward they laid there laughing breathlessly while somebody downstairs screamed the lyrics to a Taylor Swift song.
Megan still looked stunned.
“You okay?” Daniela asked.
Megan stared at the ceiling.
“I think I left my body at some point.”
Daniela snorted.
“That bad?”
“No. The opposite.”
Then Megan looked at her carefully.
“This is probably where you tell me this was a mistake, right?”
Daniela opened her mouth automatically.
Because usually, yes.
That was exactly what she’d say.
But Megan looked so nervous that the words got stuck.
So instead Daniela just shrugged.
“I don’t know yet.”
Megan nodded slowly like she’d accept literally anything Daniela gave her.
Which made Daniela’s chest hurt for some reason.
The next morning was awkward.
Obviously.
Daniela woke up first with a pounding headache and Megan half-hanging off the bed beside her.
Megan’s hair was a disaster. In a cute way.
There was a hickey on her neck.
Daniela stared at it.
Then immediately started laughing.
Megan woke up confused.
“What?”
“You have a hickey.”
Megan touched her neck and looked horrified.
“Oh my God.”
“You look ridiculous.”
“You did this to me.”
“You let me.”
Megan sat up clutching the blanket dramatically.
“I can never return to society.”
“You work at a gas station.”
“Exactly. The public will see this.”
Daniela laughed again.
And somehow that morning turned into coffee.
Coffee turned into texting.
Texting turned into hanging out again.
Neither of them really addressed what they were now.
Mostly because Daniela avoided labels like they were tax fraud.
Then, three weeks later, Daniela threw up in the university bathroom at nine in the morning.
At first she blamed cafeteria sushi.
Which honestly should’ve been illegal anyway.
But then she threw up again.
And again.
And suddenly a horrible thought started forming.
“No,” Daniela whispered to herself in the mirror.
No chance.
Absolutely no chance.
Still, after class she bought a test.
Just to calm herself down.
Just to prove she was being paranoid.
She took it in her apartment bathroom while Sophia sat outside the door eating chips.
“This is dramatic,” Sophia called.
“It’s literally not.”
“You’re probably just dying from stress.”
“Thank you, doctor.”
Daniela stared at the test.
Then stared harder.
Then felt every molecule in her body go cold.
“No way.”
“What?”
“No way.”
Sophia opened the door immediately.
Daniela held up the test silently.
Sophia blinked once.
Then:
“Oh my God.”
Daniela sat down hard on the toilet lid.
“This is not happening.”
Sophia looked equally horrified.
“You’re actually pregnant?”
Daniela laughed once.
A tiny, panicked sound.
“With who?!” Sophia suddenly yelled.
Daniela stared at the wall.
“…Megan.”
Silence.
Then Sophia said very slowly:
“The girl who owns one fork?”
“Yes.”
“The one who cries during dog food commercials?”
“Yes.”
“The one who asked me if potatoes are vegetables or carbs?”
“Yes, Sophia.”
“Oh my God.”
Daniela buried her face in her hands.
She genuinely thought she might pass out.
Everything suddenly felt terrifying.
Her parents.
School.
Money.
Her entire future.
And somehow, unbelievably, Megan Skiendiel.
Who absolutely could not handle this.
Megan panicked when the Wi-Fi stopped working.
Megan cried once because somebody yelled at her in traffic.
Megan was going to combust.
“I have to call her,” Daniela whispered.
Sophia looked concerned.
“Do you want me to stay?”
Daniela nodded immediately.
So Sophia sat beside her while Daniela shakily grabbed her phone.
Megan answered on the third ring.
“Hey,” she said cheerfully. “I’m at work and a guy just tried to pay for cigarettes with Euros.”
Daniela couldn’t speak.
Megan immediately noticed.
“…Dani?”
Daniela swallowed hard.
“Megan.”
Something in her voice changed the entire atmosphere instantly.
“What happened?”
“I need you to come over.”
Pause.
“Are you okay?”
Daniela looked down at the pregnancy test in her shaking hand.
“No,” she whispered.
Megan went silent.
Then:
“I’m coming right now.”
______
Megan got there in eleven minutes.
Which honestly was alarming because Daniela knew for a fact Megan did not own a car.
There was pounding on the apartment door followed immediately by:
“Dani?!”
Sophia got up first.
When she opened the door, Megan nearly stumbled inside out of breath, curls a mess, hoodie half-zipped wrong like she’d put it on while running.
“I took a Lime scooter,” she announced to nobody.
Then she saw Daniela sitting on the bathroom floor holding the test.
And Sophia sitting beside her.
And the entire color drained from her face.
“Oh,” Megan said faintly.
Nobody spoke.
Megan looked at the test.
Then at Daniela.
Then back at the test again like maybe it would suddenly turn into a coupon or something less horrifying.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
Daniela hadn’t cried yet.
Which honestly was weird.
Normally she cried over tiny things. Sad commercials. Stress. That one time somebody forgot extra sauce in her takeout order.
But this?
Nothing.
She just felt numb.
Megan crouched down carefully in the bathroom doorway.
“Dani…”
Daniela looked at her.
Megan looked terrified.
Actually terrified.
Like full-body panic.
Her hands were visibly shaking.
“This is real?” Megan asked quietly.
Daniela laughed once.
An awful little sound.
“No, Megan. We’re doing an experimental theater performance.”
Sophia winced immediately.
Megan looked like she’d been slapped.
“Okay,” she said quickly. “Okay. Sorry. Dumb question.”
Then she started pacing.
Which was somehow worse.
“Oh my God,” Megan muttered. “Oh my God. Okay. Okay. Wait. How does this even— no, obviously I know how, I’m not stupid, but like— statistically?”
Sophia stared at her.
“Statistically?”
“I’m panicking, leave me alone.”
Megan dragged both hands through her hair.
“I can’t even keep my succulents alive.”
Daniela looked down at the pregnancy test again.
The room suddenly felt too small.
Too warm.
Too real.
Megan kept pacing.
“We are literally twenty-one,” she said. “I still eat dinosaur chicken nuggets three times a week.”
“That’s the part you’re worried about?” Sophia asked.
“No, I’m worried about all of it!”
Megan pointed wildly toward Daniela.
“She’s pregnant!”
“Yes,” Sophia said. “We know.”
“With my baby!”
Daniela flinched a little at the word baby.
Megan noticed immediately and looked horrified.
“No, not like ownership-wise. Not my baby. I mean partially my baby. Oh my God.”
She sat down abruptly against the wall.
For a second nobody talked.
Then Megan looked at Daniela again.
And Daniela finally saw it.
Not just panic.
Fear.
Real fear.
Megan looked like somebody standing in front of a tidal wave.
“I’m sorry,” Megan whispered suddenly.
Daniela frowned.
“What?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Megan—”
“I should’ve been more careful.”
Daniela stared at her.
Something sharp twisted painfully in her chest.
Because Megan genuinely sounded guilty.
Like she thought this was all her fault.
And weirdly, irrationally, that made Daniela angry.
Not at the situation.
At Megan.
Which made absolutely no sense, but suddenly every emotion in her body started colliding at once.
Fear.
Stress.
Hormones.
Panic.
And before she could stop herself, she snapped.
“Well, congratulations,” Daniela said shakily. “You got exactly what every broke loser secretly wants.”
The room went dead silent.
Sophia blinked.
Megan looked confused for a second.
Then hurt.
Like visibly hurt.
Daniela instantly regretted it.
But now the emotions were spilling out too fast to stop.
“You literally work at a gas station,” Daniela continued, voice cracking. “Your apartment smells like smoke and ramen and you own, like, two towels.”
“Dani,” Sophia warned softly.
“No, seriously!” Daniela stood up suddenly. “This is insane. Of all people? You?”
Megan just stared at her.
“I would literally rather be pregnant with anybody else’s kid.”
That did it.
Sophia stood up immediately.
“Okay. Timeout.”
Daniela’s breathing started shaking.
Megan looked like someone had punched directly through her ribs.
But weirdly, the panic disappeared from her face.
Now she just looked… still.
Quiet.
“Oh,” Megan said softly.
And somehow that made Daniela feel even worse.
Sophia rubbed her forehead.
“Megan,” she said carefully, “come with me for a second.”
Megan nodded immediately.
Like she deserved it.
Which somehow made everything worse.
Sophia guided her out of the bathroom while Daniela stood there shaking.
The second they disappeared into the kitchen, Daniela burst into tears.
Violent, humiliating tears.
“Oh my God,” she sobbed into her hands. “Oh my God.”
Everything hit her at once.
She was pregnant.
Actually pregnant.
Her life was changing forever.
And she’d just been horrible to the one person who looked more scared than she was.
In the kitchen, Megan stood frozen beside the counter while Sophia crossed her arms.
“You need to stop standing there looking like a kicked puppy,” Sophia said.
Megan blinked.
“She hates me.”
“She does not hate you.”
“She literally called me a broke loser.”
“Well.” Sophia grimaced. “That one was admittedly direct.”
Megan looked down at the floor.
“I mean, she’s not wrong.”
“Oh my God, don’t start.”
Megan laughed weakly.
“I knew this was how she secretly saw me.”
Sophia pointed at her.
“No. Daniela is terrified and emotional and currently behaving like a raccoon trapped in a garbage can.”
Megan rubbed her face.
“I don’t even know what to do.”
“Neither does she.”
Megan swallowed hard.
Then very quietly:
“She said she’d rather it was anyone else.”
Sophia’s expression softened a little.
“Yeah. That was awful.”
Megan nodded once.
But then she took a deep breath.
And somehow, visibly, pulled herself together.
Like a switch flipped.
“When I was freaking out,” Megan said slowly, “she looked scared.”
“She is scared.”
“No, like… really scared.”
Sophia nodded.
“And she started crying the second you left,” she added.
Megan’s head snapped up immediately.
“She’s crying?”
Sophia stared at her.
“Yes, genius. Obviously.”
Megan looked genuinely distressed.
“Oh no.”
“She needs comfort right now,” Sophia said. “And unfortunately you’re the emotionally attached disaster she calls when things go wrong.”
Megan blinked.
“…That sounded kind of affectionate.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Okay.”
Sophia sighed dramatically.
“Look. You don’t get to spiral right now.”
“I know.”
“You can panic later.”
“I know.”
“You have to help her first.”
Megan nodded instantly.
No hesitation.
And Sophia noticed it immediately.
Interesting.
Because ten minutes ago Megan looked seconds away from fainting.
But the second Daniela started falling apart, Megan shoved all her own fear somewhere else.
Sophia studied her for another second.
Then jerked her head toward the bathroom.
“Go.”
Megan walked back slowly.
Daniela sat on the floor crying into toilet paper because apparently they were fully out of tissues.
Very dignified.
The second she saw Megan, she looked away immediately.
“I’m sorry,” Daniela mumbled through tears.
Megan crouched down carefully beside her.
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
“You’re freaking out.”
“I was mean.”
“You’re still freaking out.”
Daniela wiped angrily at her face.
“I hate this.”
Megan’s expression cracked a little at that.
“I know.”
“I don’t want this to ruin my life.”
“It won’t.”
Daniela laughed bitterly.
“You literally cannot promise that.”
“No,” Megan admitted quietly. “But I can promise you won’t do it alone.”
Daniela looked at her finally.
Megan still looked scared.
Really scared.
But calmer now.
Steadier.
And weirdly gentle.
“I meant what I said,” Megan continued softly. “I should’ve been more careful too.”
Daniela sniffed hard.
“It wasn’t just your fault.”
“I know.”
“I was just…” She wiped her face again miserably. “You were panicking and it made me panic more.”
“I know.”
“And then your face was annoying.”
Megan blinked.
“My face?”
“You looked too scared.”
“Oh.”
Daniela covered her eyes dramatically.
“I don’t even know why I’m yelling at you.”
Megan smiled a tiny little bit.
“Hormones maybe.”
Daniela glared at her through tears.
“Don’t say hormones to me right now.”
“Sorry.”
“You’re still a loser, by the way.”
“There she is.”
Daniela accidentally laughed.
A wet, miserable little laugh, but still.
Megan visibly relaxed hearing it.
Then, after a pause, Megan reached over carefully.
Not touching Daniela yet.
Just offering.
Daniela stared at her hand for a second.
Then grabbed it immediately.
And suddenly Megan was pulling her into a hug.
Daniela buried her face in the front of her hoodie and cried harder.
Megan held her quietly.
One hand rubbing slow circles against her back.
“I’ve got you,” Megan whispered.
Daniela shook her head against her shoulder.
“You shouldn’t.”
“Too bad.”
“I’m serious, Megan. This is huge.”
“I know.”
“You don’t even have money.”
“Wow. Okay. Cool.”
Daniela laughed weakly against her hoodie.
“You own one pan.”
“It’s a good pan.”
“It’s literally bent.”
Megan rested her chin lightly on top of her head.
“We’ll figure it out.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
“I’m trying my best.”
Daniela finally pulled back enough to look at her.
Megan looked exhausted already.
Terrified.
But weirdly determined too.
Like somewhere inside all the panic, she’d made a decision.
“You’re staying?” Daniela asked quietly.
Megan looked confused.
“Obviously.”
“Even after I was awful to you?”
Megan shrugged a little.
“You were scared.”
“I said really horrible things.”
“You also cried over a pigeon with a hurt foot last month.”
“That pigeon was limping.”
Megan smiled softly.
“My point is, you’re emotional.”
Daniela stared at her for a second.
Then suddenly started crying again.
“Oh no,” Megan whispered immediately.
“I hate you.”
“That’s fair.”
“This is your fault.”
“That’s less fair.”
Sophia yelled from the kitchen:
“I CAN STILL HEAR YOU TWO.”
Neither of them answered.
Megan just held Daniela closer while she cried into her hoodie again.
And for the first time since seeing the test, Daniela felt slightly less terrified.
Only slightly.
But enough to breathe.
_____
Pregnancy, Daniela discovered very quickly, was genuinely the worst thing that had ever happened to her physically.
Nobody explained that enough.
People online kept calling it beautiful.
Miraculous.
Life-changing.
Which, okay, technically true.
But nobody on TikTok was talking enough about waking up at six in the morning already crying because your stomach hurt and suddenly every smell in existence became a personal attack.
Daniela hated being sick.
Not disliked.
Hated.
Always had.
As a kid she used to panic whenever she got the flu because throwing up made her feel like she was dying dramatically in a Victorian novel.
Now?
Now her body had apparently decided vomiting was a personality trait.
At exactly 6:12 a.m. on a Thursday morning, Daniela bolted upright in bed with a gasp.
“Oh no.”
Then immediately sprinted to the bathroom.
Sophia woke up to the sound of gagging and one very emotional:
“I HATE THIS!”
She stumbled sleepily into the hallway wearing giant pajama pants and found Daniela kneeling in front of the toilet crying dramatically between bouts of nausea.
“Oh God,” Sophia muttered sympathetically.
Daniela pointed at her miserably.
“Don’t look at me.”
“I live here.”
“This is humiliating.”
“You’re literally pregnant. You’re allowed to throw up.”
Daniela wiped tears from her face angrily.
“No, I’m not.”
Sophia handed her hair back out of her face.
“Unfortunately you are.”
Another wave of nausea hit and Daniela made the most betrayed sound imaginable before leaning over the toilet again.
By the time Megan arrived twenty minutes later carrying electrolyte drinks and crackers from the convenience store, Daniela was sitting on the bathroom floor wrapped in a blanket looking emotionally destroyed.
Megan immediately crouched beside her.
“Oh, baby.”
Daniela burst into tears again.
Sophia looked exhausted already.
“This has been happening for forty minutes,” she informed Megan.
“I’m dying,” Daniela whispered dramatically.
“You are not dying.”
“I threw up water.”
“That’s actually impressive.”
Daniela glared at Megan weakly.
“I need a new body.”
Megan pushed curls out of Daniela’s face gently.
“I brought crackers.”
“I hate crackers.”
“You liked them yesterday.”
“Yesterday I was young and hopeful.”
Sophia snorted so hard she almost dropped her coffee.
Megan smiled despite herself.
Then Daniela suddenly looked panicked again.
“I’m gonna throw up again.”
“It’s okay,” Megan said immediately.
“No, it’s not okay!”
“It’s okay.”
“I hate this feeling.”
Her breathing started speeding up.
Megan recognized it instantly.
Panic attack.
“Oh no,” Megan whispered.
Sophia sighed quietly from the doorway.
“Here we go.”
Daniela started crying harder.
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes, you can.”
“I genuinely can’t.”
Megan sat directly on the bathroom floor beside her without hesitation.
“You’re okay,” she said softly.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I feel disgusting.”
Megan grabbed her hand immediately.
“You’re not disgusting.”
“I keep throwing up!”
“You’re pregnant. Your body’s freaking out.”
Daniela’s breathing shook.
“I hate being sick.”
“I know.”
“I hate it.”
“I know.”
Megan rubbed slow circles against her knuckles while Daniela tried not to hyperventilate over nausea.
Sophia leaned against the doorway watching them carefully.
And honestly?
It was weirdly sweet.
Because Megan looked exhausted too.
Dark circles under her eyes. Hoodie inside out. Probably hadn’t slept properly in days.
But every single time Daniela panicked, Megan went completely calm.
Like her own fear got shoved aside automatically.
Eventually Daniela stopped crying enough to nibble miserably on crackers while Megan sat beside her on the floor.
Sophia looked at the clock.
“I have class in thirty minutes.”
Daniela groaned.
“Don’t leave me alone with her.”
Megan looked offended.
“What?”
“You’ll hover.”
“I do not hover.”
“You absolutely hover.”
Megan opened her mouth.
Paused.
“…Okay maybe a little.”
Sophia laughed.
“You two are literally already married.”
“Shut up,” Daniela muttered.
But she didn’t let go of Megan’s hand.
That became the routine.
Morning sickness.
Panic.
Crying.
Megan comforting her.
Repeat.
Some mornings were worse than others.
One morning Daniela cried because the orange juice smelled “too orange.”
Another time she sobbed over a sandwich commercial.
Megan found her standing in the kitchen staring at the fridge one afternoon with tears streaming down her face.
“What happened?!”
“I wanted mac and cheese.”
“…Okay?”
“But making it feels emotionally impossible.”
Megan stared at her for a long second.
Then quietly started boiling water.
Daniela cried harder.
“Oh my God, thank you.”
Sophia nearly walked directly back out of the apartment when she saw Megan sitting on the bathroom counter at eight a.m. while Daniela dry-heaved dramatically into the toilet.
“Still happening?” Sophia asked.
Megan looked dead inside.
“Every morning.”
Daniela pointed weakly.
“She looked up pregnancy symptoms and told me nausea means the baby’s healthy.”
“I was trying to comfort you.”
“I don’t want healthy. I want normal.”
Sophia grabbed cereal.
“Well. Unfortunately you’re manufacturing a person.”
Daniela groaned into the toilet.
Meanwhile Megan basically stopped going home.
Not intentionally at first.
It just… happened.
She’d stay over because Daniela got sick.
Then she’d stay because Daniela got emotional at night.
Then because Sophia had an early class and someone needed to make sure Daniela ate actual food.
Then suddenly Megan had three hoodies hanging over a chair and a toothbrush beside the sink.
Sophia noticed immediately.
“So,” she said casually one night.
Megan looked up from assembling frozen waffles.
“So?”
“You live here now.”
Megan blinked.
“…Do I?”
Daniela answered from the couch without looking up from her phone.
“Yes.”
Megan stared at her.
Daniela shrugged.
“You’re here literally all the time anyway.”
Megan looked weirdly happy about that.
Then immediately tried hiding it.
“Okay cool. Casual.”
Sophia pointed her fork at them.
“You realize this is insane, right?”
Daniela snorted.
“Everything about this is insane.”
That included Megan’s actual roommates.
Lara and Manon were surprisingly supportive about the whole thing.
Mostly because neither of them particularly cared about anything.
Megan stopped by their apartment one afternoon to grab clothes and found both of them sitting on the couch playing Mario Kart.
Lara looked up first.
“Oh hey. You alive?”
“Barely.”
Manon paused the game.
“How’s the pregnant one?”
“She threw up because toothpaste smelled minty.”
Manon nodded thoughtfully.
“Rough.”
Megan started stuffing hoodies into a laundry basket.
Lara watched her for a second.
“So are you officially moving out or what?”
Megan blinked.
“I’m not moving out.”
“Megan,” Manon said gently, “you’ve slept here once in like two weeks.”
“That’s not true.”
“Megan,” Lara interrupted, “your plant died.”
Megan froze.
“…Kevin died?”
“You left him on the windowsill with no water.”
“Oh my God.”
“Murderer,” Manon said.
Megan looked genuinely devastated for a second before continuing to pack.
Then Lara casually asked:
“So are you and Daniela together now?”
Megan nearly dropped the laundry basket.
“What?”
“You’re having a baby together.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Megan turned bright red immediately.
“We’re not— I mean— it’s complicated.”
Manon snorted.
“You literally moved in with her.”
“She needed help.”
Lara stared at her.
“You can just say you’re obsessed with her.”
“I’m not obsessed with her.”
“Megan,” both roommates said together.
Megan groaned.
“Okay maybe a little.”
Lara grinned.
“Honestly you can have sex whenever you want now. Relationship speedrun.”
Megan looked horrified.
“Oh my God.”
Manon laughed so hard she choked.
“What?! It’s true!”
“She’s pregnant!”
“Exactly. Highest possible commitment level.”
Megan buried her face in a hoodie.
“I hate both of you.”
“You love us,” Lara corrected.
Megan ended up leaving with two trash bags full of clothes, her laptop, and the world’s saddest air fryer.
When she returned to Daniela and Sophia’s apartment, Daniela looked up from the couch.
“…Why do you have luggage?”
Megan dropped the bags by the door.
“I think I accidentally moved in.”
Sophia, from the kitchen:
“I KNEW IT.”
Daniela laughed for the first time all day.
And weirdly?
Things got easier after that.
Not easy.
Definitely not easy.
But softer somehow.
Domestic.
Megan learned exactly how Daniela liked her toast.
Daniela learned Megan physically could not function without iced coffee.
Sophia started referring to them collectively as “the stress lesbians.”
One night Daniela woke up nauseous again and immediately started crying into her pillow.
Megan sat up instantly beside her.
“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I feel sick.”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna throw up.”
“Okay.”
“I hate it.”
Megan rubbed sleepily at her eyes before climbing out of bed.
“I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.”
Daniela looked miserably emotional again.
Which honestly was becoming constant now.
Megan guided her gently toward the bathroom and held her hair while she got sick.
Afterward Daniela sat against the bathtub sniffling while Megan handed her water.
“I’m sorry,” Daniela whispered.
Megan frowned.
“For what?”
“I’m being insane lately.”
“You’re growing organs.”
“That sounds fake.”
“It’s true.”
Daniela looked at her carefully.
“You really don’t mind?”
Megan blinked.
“Mind what?”
“This.”
Megan sat beside her on the floor.
“Dani.”
“You didn’t sign up for this.”
“Neither did you.”
Daniela leaned tiredly against her shoulder.
Megan immediately wrapped an arm around her.
And after a second, very quietly, she admitted:
“I’m scared all the time.”
Daniela looked up.
Megan laughed weakly.
“Like genuinely terrified.”
“Me too.”
“But when you cry I kind of stop thinking about myself.”
Daniela stared at her softly.
Megan shrugged awkwardly.
“You’re more important.”
And that almost made Daniela cry again.
Which honestly was becoming a serious problem.
____
By month five, Daniela had become emotionally attached to three things:
1. Megan.
2. Slushies.
3. Her pregnancy pillow.
Not necessarily in that order.
The pregnancy pillow was gigantic.
Absurdly gigantic.
It took up nearly half the bed and looked like a plush snake attempting to consume Daniela whole.
Megan hated it immediately.
“This thing is destroying our relationship,” she complained one night after nearly falling off the mattress again.
Daniela looked offended.
“Don’t talk about her like that.”
“You named it?”
“Her name is Penelope.”
“Oh my God.”
Sophia walked past the bedroom door, saw the pillow wrapped around Daniela like a hostage situation, and kept walking.
“I’m not getting involved.”
Meanwhile Daniela’s stomach had finally started showing enough that strangers smiled at her in public now.
Which she hated.
One woman at a grocery store touched her arm and said, “You’re glowing.”
Daniela immediately replied:
“No, I’m sweating.”
Megan laughed so hard she snorted directly into the shopping cart.
The morning sickness had mostly eased up by then, thank God, though Daniela still cried at least once daily over something ridiculous.
One afternoon she cried because Megan bought the wrong yogurt.
Another time she burst into tears because a baby sock “looked too small to contain a human.”
Megan had learned not to question it.
“You want juice?” became her solution to almost every emotional situation.
And honestly?
It worked weirdly often.
The gender appointment happened on a rainy Tuesday morning.
Daniela spent the entire car ride nervous for absolutely no reason.
“We’re literally just finding out if it’s a boy or a girl,” Megan said gently.
“What if they tell us something horrible?”
Megan paused.
“…Okay, that’s actually fair.”
Daniela stared out the window anxiously while Megan held her hand over the center console.
Megan was nervous too.
Not about the baby’s gender.
Just everything.
Every appointment still made her heart race.
Every ultrasound still felt surreal.
Sometimes she’d look at the blurry little shape on the screen and think:
Oh my God.
That’s an actual person.
A person they made.
Which was insane considering Megan still occasionally forgot laundry existed until Lara texted her things like YOUR TOWELS SMELL DEMONIC.
The appointment itself went smoothly.
The technician was nice.
Daniela squeezed Megan’s hand so hard during the scan that Megan lost feeling in two fingers temporarily.
“You’re crushing my bones,” Megan whispered.
“I’m stressed.”
“I noticed.”
The technician smiled at the screen.
“Well,” she said, “do you want to know?”
Daniela looked at Megan instantly.
Megan looked back.
Both of them suddenly seemed weirdly emotional.
“Letter,” Daniela said quickly.
The technician nodded knowingly.
“A classic.”
She printed the results, sealed them in an envelope, and handed it over carefully.
And suddenly the entire thing became real all over again.
Megan held the envelope like it contained state secrets.
“Oh my God.”
Daniela grabbed her hoodie sleeve.
“Don’t open it yet.”
“I wasn’t going to!”
“You looked tempted.”
“I am tempted.”
They made it approximately seven minutes before giving up.
Not even home.
Just parked outside a café while rain tapped softly against the windshield.
Megan held the envelope between both hands dramatically.
“This feels life-changing.”
“It literally is life-changing.”
“Good point.”
Daniela’s stomach flipped nervously.
“What if it’s a boy?”
“What if it’s a girl?”
“What if she hates us?”
Megan looked at her.
“She’s not even born.”
“She could still judge us.”
“She definitely will eventually.”
Daniela groaned.
“I can’t raise somebody emotionally stable.”
Megan snorted.
“Neither can I.”
For a second neither of them moved.
Then Megan carefully opened the envelope.
Daniela grabbed onto her arm automatically.
Megan unfolded the paper slowly.
Read it.
Went completely still.
Daniela panicked immediately.
“What? What is it? Is something wrong?”
Megan looked up.
And smiled.
“A girl.”
Daniela froze.
“A… girl?”
Megan nodded.
“We’re having a daughter.”
Daniela immediately burst into tears.
“Oh no,” Megan said automatically.
But she was crying too.
Just quieter.
Happy tears.
Terrified tears.
Everything tears.
Daniela covered her face.
“A little girl.”
Megan laughed shakily.
“Yeah.”
Daniela looked down at her stomach with this expression Megan had never seen before.
Something soft.
Something stunned.
“Oh my God,” Daniela whispered.
Megan suddenly felt emotional enough to explode.
Because Daniela looked so beautiful like this.
Not in the dramatic movie way.
In the real way.
Messy hair. Oversized sweatshirt. Crying in a parked car over a folded piece of paper.
And somehow Megan loved her so much it physically hurt.
Daniela looked at her suddenly.
“We need clothes.”
Megan blinked.
“What?”
“We need baby clothes immediately.”
“Oh.”
“No, like right now.”
Megan started laughing.
“Dani—”
“She needs tiny outfits!”
“She’s not even born yet!”
“She can’t be naked, Megan!”
Twenty minutes later they were both on the couch with laptops open spiraling into online shopping madness.
Sophia walked in from class and froze.
The living room looked like a digital explosion of pink tabs and tiny sweaters.
“…What happened?”
Daniela looked up excitedly.
“It’s a girl!”
Sophia gasped immediately.
“Oh my God!”
Daniela burst into tears again.
“I know!”
Sophia dropped her bag and hugged her instantly.
Megan sat cross-legged beside them holding her laptop.
“I found socks with strawberries on them.”
Sophia looked over.
“Oh no. Those are adorable.”
“That’s what I said!”
Daniela wiped her eyes dramatically.
“She’s gonna be tiny.”
Megan looked emotional again immediately.
“Stop saying tiny or I’ll cry.”
Sophia grabbed Megan’s laptop.
“Okay, absolutely not. You two cannot be trusted financially right now.”
Too late.
Way too late.
Within an hour they’d ordered:
• tiny flower-print pajamas
• stuffed animals
• baby blankets
• tiny hats
• bows
• approximately nine outfits containing ducks for some reason
• a baby carrier Megan called “tactical parenting gear”
• a stupidly expensive stroller Daniela insisted was “aesthetic”
• matching mommy-and-baby sweaters
• matching mama-and-baby sweaters too because Megan got jealous
Sophia stared at the total price.
“You’re both idiots.”
Daniela pointed at the screen.
“But look at this little cardigan.”
Sophia looked.
Paused.
“…Okay wait that is cute.”
Megan was fully spiraling now.
“What if she’s bald?”
“What?”
“I’m serious,” Megan said. “What if she comes out looking like a small angry old man?”
Daniela laughed so hard she snorted.
“She’s your child. Of course she’ll look weird.”
“That’s so evil.”
Sophia sat beside them scrolling through the cart.
“You bought her six pairs of shoes.”
“She might have feet,” Megan defended.
“She will definitely have feet.”
“Well then.”
Daniela leaned sleepily against Megan’s shoulder while they kept browsing.
Her hand rested automatically over her stomach now.
A habit she didn’t even notice anymore.
Megan noticed though.
Megan noticed everything.
And suddenly she got quiet.
Sophia glanced at her.
“What?”
Megan swallowed hard.
“I just…” She looked at Daniela carefully. “We’re really doing this.”
Daniela looked up slowly.
Megan laughed weakly.
“There’s gonna be a whole person living with us.”
“She already is living with us.”
“Okay, horrifying wording.”
Daniela smiled softly.
Then took Megan’s hand and pressed it gently against her stomach.
Megan froze instantly.
Because the baby kicked.
Tiny.
Quick.
But unmistakable.
“Oh my God,” Megan whispered.
Daniela’s eyes lit up.
“She’s moving.”
Megan stared at her like the universe had cracked open directly in front of her.
The baby kicked again.
And Megan actually started tearing up.
Sophia pointed immediately.
“Oh, she’s crying.”
“I’m not crying.”
“You’re absolutely crying.”
Megan laughed while wiping at her face.
“This is so embarrassing.”
Daniela smiled at her softly.
“No,” she said quietly.
“It’s not.”
_______
Daniela’s water broke while Megan was making grilled cheese.
Not dramatically.
Not movie-style.
No screaming.
No giant flood of water.
Just Daniela walking slowly into the kitchen at two in the morning wearing one of Megan’s hoodies and saying:
“I think something weird just happened.”
Megan looked up from the stove.
“What kind of weird?”
Daniela stood there for a second.
Then:
“I think I peed myself.”
Sophia, half-asleep on the couch, immediately sat upright.
“Oh my God.”
Daniela looked offended.
“I said I think.”
Then another little trickle happened and Daniela froze.
Megan froze too.
The entire apartment went silent.
Daniela blinked once.
“…Oh.”
Sophia pointed violently.
“THAT’S THE BABY.”
Everything exploded after that.
Not literally.
Emotionally.
Megan dropped the spatula.
Sophia started yelling.
Daniela started laughing for some reason.
“I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M LAUGHING,” she wheezed.
Megan looked seconds from cardiac arrest.
“Hospital,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” Sophia said. “That’s generally how labor works.”
Megan started pacing immediately.
“Oh my God. Oh my God. Okay. Bag. We need the bag.”
“The bag’s by the door,” Daniela said.
“How are you calm right now?!”
“I genuinely think I’m in shock.”
Sophia grabbed car keys.
“You’re not driving.”
“I can drive.”
“Megan,” Sophia said carefully, “you look like a Victorian child with tuberculosis.”
Fair.
Megan had gone completely pale.
Daniela waddled toward the bedroom calmly while Megan followed her like a terrified emotional-support cryptid.
“Are you hurting?” Megan asked immediately.
“A little.”
“A little? Like little little? Or little but secretly horrible?”
Daniela started laughing again.
“You’re panicking more than me.”
“Because you’re acting insane.”
By the time they got into the car, Megan was visibly trembling.
Sophia drove while Daniela sat in the backseat breathing through contractions.
Megan sat beside her gripping her hand so tightly Daniela lost circulation.
“Ow,” Daniela complained.
“Sorry.”
“You’re sweating.”
“I’m aware.”
“You look like you’re gonna throw up.”
“I might.”
Daniela started laughing again.
Which turned into a contraction.
Which turned into:
“Oh. Never mind. Never mind. That one sucked.”
Megan immediately looked ready to fight God personally.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay but emotionally I hate that answer.”
At the hospital things got even worse for Megan somehow.
The second they admitted Daniela and started explaining actual labor things, Megan began looking increasingly unstable.
The nurse noticed immediately.
“You alright, sweetheart?”
Megan nodded too fast.
“Yep. Totally.”
Then immediately sat down hard in the chair beside Daniela’s bed.
Daniela pointed weakly.
“She’s dramatic.”
“I’m not dramatic,” Megan whispered faintly.
“You’re literally green.”
Megan looked at the nurse.
“How much blood are we talking?”
The nurse smiled professionally.
“Depends.”
Megan made a tiny distressed sound.
Daniela burst out laughing.
“You are never living this down.”
“I know.”
Labor itself was long.
Long enough that Daniela cycled through every possible human emotion.
Pain.
Anger.
Exhaustion.
Hunger.
More anger.
At one point she cried because the hospital ice chips were “emotionally unsupportive.”
Megan fed them to her anyway.
“You’re doing amazing,” Megan kept saying.
Daniela glared at her through a contraction.
“If you say amazing one more time I’m divorcing you.”
“We’re not married.”
“Exactly. I’ll divorce you preemptively.”
Sophia visited briefly around noon carrying iced coffee and emotional support chips.
She took one look at Megan and barked out a laugh.
“Oh my God.”
Megan looked exhausted beyond human comprehension.
“You look terrible,” Sophia informed her.
“I haven’t blinked in six hours.”
“That explains it.”
Meanwhile Daniela had finally agreed to pain medication and was now extremely high.
Not unconscious.
Just deeply, profoundly relaxed.
Honestly a little too relaxed.
“This bed is incredible,” Daniela whispered dreamily.
Megan looked emotional immediately.
“You deserve comfort.”
Daniela squinted at her.
“You have really pretty eyelashes.”
“Thank you?”
Sophia snorted into her coffee.
“Oh she’s gone.”
Daniela pointed at Megan lazily.
“That one almost passed out earlier.”
“I did not.”
“The nurse literally gave you juice and a chair.”
“She said my blood pressure dropped!”
“Because you saw a needle.”
“It was a huge needle!”
It got worse during active labor.
Much worse.
Daniela was exhausted, sweaty, clutching Megan’s hand hard enough to destroy bone structure.
Megan stayed beside her the entire time.
Hair messy.
Eyes red.
Looking like she hadn’t experienced joy in decades.
The doctor calmly explained pushing.
Megan listened for approximately twenty seconds before turning pale again.
“Oh no,” Sophia whispered from the corner.
The nurse noticed instantly.
“Megan?”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.”
“I’m emotionally delicate.”
Then Daniela screamed during a contraction and Megan visibly swayed.
“Oh my God,” Sophia wheezed.
“Megan,” the nurse said quickly, “sit down right now.”
“I’m okay—”
She was not okay.
Megan sat down just before fully faceplanting into the hospital floor.
Daniela, incredibly high and barely feeling her legs anymore, looked over blearily.
“Baby,” she said lazily. “Are you fainting during my childbirth?”
“I’m trying not to.”
The nurse handed Megan cold water and some kind of medication for dizziness/nausea after checking her vitals.
“Your body’s reacting to stress,” she explained.
Sophia completely lost it laughing.
“They had to medically sedate the co-parent.”
“I’m not sedated,” Megan muttered weakly.
“You’re definitely drugged a little.”
Megan leaned against the wall miserably clutching juice.
“This is the worst day of my life.”
Daniela laughed so hard the monitor started beeping weirdly.
Then another contraction hit.
And suddenly everything got very real again.
The room shifted instantly.
Doctors moving.
Nurses encouraging.
Daniela breathing hard.
Megan back beside her despite looking seconds from another collapse.
“You’re okay,” Megan whispered shakily.
Daniela grabbed her hoodie sleeve tightly.
“I can’t do this.”
“Yes you can.”
“I actually can’t.”
“You literally are doing it.”
Daniela started crying.
“I’m scared.”
Megan kissed her forehead immediately.
“I know.”
And for a second Megan forgot her own panic completely.
Because Daniela looked terrified.
And exhausted.
And vulnerable in a way Megan had never seen before.
“You’re the strongest person I know,” Megan whispered.
Daniela laughed weakly.
“That’s insane.”
“It’s true.”
Then finally—
After hours and hours and hours—
A cry filled the room.
Tiny.
Sharp.
Alive.
Everything stopped.
Daniela froze.
Megan froze harder.
The doctor smiled.
“It’s a girl.”
And suddenly Megan started crying immediately.
Full tears.
Instantly.
“Oh my God,” she choked out.
The nurse placed the baby carefully against Daniela’s chest.
And Daniela just stared.
Completely stunned.
Their daughter was tiny.
Red-faced.
Angry.
Wrapped in blankets.
And somehow real.
Actually real.
Daniela started crying too.
“She’s so little.”
Megan looked one second away from another medical emergency.
“She has your nose.”
“She literally came out thirty seconds ago.”
“She still has your nose.”
Sophia quietly wiped her own eyes from the corner.
“Nobody speak to me,” she announced emotionally.
Daniela looked down at the baby carefully.
Their baby.
Then up at Megan.
Megan was crying so hard she could barely breathe.
And Daniela, still slightly high and exhausted beyond belief, started laughing softly.
“You almost fainted before she was even born.”
Megan laughed through tears.
“They gave me anti-passing-out medicine.”
“You’re such a loser.”
“I know.”
But she reached over carefully anyway.
Touching Daniela’s face.
Then the baby’s tiny hand.
Looking at both of them like they were the most important things she’d ever seen in her entire life.
And they were.
____
The hospital let them leave after two days.
Two deeply chaotic, sleep-deprived, emotionally unstable days.
By the end of it, Daniela was convinced hospitals existed specifically to prevent people from sleeping ever again.
Every thirty minutes somebody came into the room.
Nurses.
Doctors.
Paperwork people.
A woman whose entire job seemed to be checking if the baby was still attached to reality.
And meanwhile their daughter screamed with the terrifying confidence of somebody who had never paid taxes once in her life.
Megan was obsessed immediately.
Violently obsessed.
Daniela woke up at four in the morning the second night to find Megan sitting in the little hospital chair staring at the baby bassinet with tears in her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Daniela mumbled sleepily.
Megan looked up.
“She sneezed.”
“…Okay?”
“It was tiny.”
Daniela stared at her for a second.
“You’re actually insane now.”
Megan smiled without shame.
“She grabbed my finger earlier.”
“She literally has no motor skills.”
“She still chose me.”
Daniela rolled her eyes fondly and fell back asleep.
Honestly, after giving birth, Daniela felt weirdly disconnected from her own body for a little while.
Not emotionally.
Just physically.
Everything hurt.
She was exhausted beyond comprehension.
And every time she looked at the baby, her brain short-circuited a little.
Like.
Oh.
That was inside me.
That’s horrifying.
Still, she loved her instantly.
Even during the screaming.
Even during the diaper disasters.
Even when the baby somehow managed to pee during a diaper change directly onto Megan’s hoodie.
Megan looked emotionally devastated.
“She attacked me.”
Daniela laughed so hard she nearly cried again.
“Welcome to parenthood.”
The drive home was terrifying.
Megan drove exactly twelve miles under the speed limit while Daniela sat in the back beside the baby like a security guard.
“She breathed weird.”
“She sighed.”
“She looked uncomfortable.”
“She blinked, Megan.”
“What if the car seat is emotionally upsetting her?”
Daniela stared at her.
“You need therapy.”
Sophia, in the passenger seat, snorted.
“She’s been staring at that baby like she personally invented infants.”
“I love her,” Megan defended immediately.
“You’ve known her four days.”
“She’s perfect.”
The apartment looked completely different now.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
There were bottles drying beside the sink.
Tiny blankets folded on the couch.
Baby swings and stuffed animals and little socks everywhere.
Their daughter immediately became the center of gravity in the apartment.
Everything revolved around her.
Especially Megan.
Megan wanted to do everything.
Every diaper change.
Every bottle.
Every outfit change.
Every late-night soothing session.
Daniela noticed it almost immediately.
One night she woke up to the sound of soft humming in the living room.
She shuffled out half-asleep and found Megan pacing slowly with the baby against her chest.
Their daughter was wrapped in a tiny strawberry-print sleeper.
Megan looked exhausted.
But weirdly peaceful too.
“She won’t sleep?” Daniela whispered.
Megan looked over softly.
“She had gas.”
“Oh.”
Daniela sat down on the couch carefully.
Megan immediately hovered.
“Does anything hurt?”
“Megan.”
“What?”
“You ask me that every six minutes.”
“You pushed out a whole person.”
Daniela smiled tiredly.
Honestly?
Recovery was weird.
The baby weight dropped off her frighteningly fast.
Like genuinely concerningly fast.
Within a few weeks half her clothes fit again.
Sophia noticed first.
“Okay, that’s actually unfair.”
Daniela looked down at herself.
“I think breastfeeding is sucking the life out of me.”
Megan looked horrified immediately.
“Don’t say sucking the life out of me.”
“She’s dramatic,” Sophia said.
“You both are.”
Daniela still looked exhausted constantly though.
Dark circles under her eyes.
Hair always messy now.
Living off caffeine and survival instincts.
But every time Megan offered to take over completely, Daniela just handed her the baby automatically anyway.
“You do it,” Daniela mumbled one morning from the couch.
Megan blinked.
“You sure?”
“I carried her for nine months.”
“Fair.”
“You’re on diaper duty forever.”
“That seems legally questionable.”
“Nope. It’s feminism.”
Megan laughed and took the baby carefully.
Honestly, Megan loved doing baby things.
An alarming amount.
Daniela caught her watching diaper-changing tutorials at two in the morning.
“You already know how to change her.”
“I’m refining my craft.”
“You sound like a medieval blacksmith.”
Megan ignored her completely.
The baby also clearly loved Megan.
Which Daniela found slightly offensive.
“She likes you more.”
“That’s not true.”
“She literally stops crying when you hold her.”
Megan tried not to look smug.
Failed completely.
“I think she respects my energy.”
“You have terrible energy.”
Meanwhile Sophia became the baby’s unofficial aunt immediately.
Which mostly meant showing up randomly to hold the baby while insulting both parents.
“You two look medically exhausted,” she observed one afternoon.
Daniela nodded.
“I haven’t slept long enough to dream in weeks.”
Megan looked down proudly at the baby asleep against her chest.
“She smiled at me.”
Sophia stared.
“That was gas.”
“You’re gas.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
Then came the trip to Megan’s old apartment.
Mostly because Lara and Manon had been threatening violence via text if they didn’t get to meet the baby soon.
LARA: if i don’t see the tiny human by friday i’m reporting you to the government
MANON: i bought her a frog hat
MEGAN: why a frog hat
MANON: because she deserves whimsy
So eventually Megan bundled the baby carefully into her carrier while Daniela watched from the couch.
“You sure you don’t want me to come?”
Megan looked over immediately.
“You should rest.”
Daniela narrowed her eyes.
“You just want solo baby time.”
“…Maybe a little.”
Daniela laughed softly.
“You’re obsessed with her.”
“I made peace with that already.”
Before leaving, Megan leaned down automatically and kissed Daniela gently.
Which still startled Daniela sometimes.
Not because it was bad.
Because it had become so natural.
Somewhere between the panic attacks and the pregnancy and the labor, they’d accidentally become real.
Megan arrived at the apartment to immediate screaming.
“Oh my GOD,” Lara yelled.
Manon nearly knocked over a chair sprinting toward the door.
“THAT’S A BABY.”
“That is generally what I brought,” Megan agreed.
Lara stared into the carrier dramatically.
“She’s so tiny.”
“I KNOW.”
Manon clutched her chest.
“Oh no. I love her immediately.”
The baby blinked up at them sleepily.
Lara gasped.
“She has Megan’s confused expression.”
“That’s so rude,” Megan said.
“It’s true.”
Manon carefully handed over the tiny frog hat.
It was absurdly small.
Green with little frog eyes on top.
Megan burst out laughing immediately.
“This is horrifying.”
“Put it on her.”
“You’re evil.”
“DO IT.”
Five minutes later the baby was wearing the frog hat.
Lara started crying laughing instantly.
“She looks deeply unemployed.”
“She’s a newborn.”
“Exactly.”
Megan took approximately forty-seven pictures.
Then another twenty.
Then a video.
Lara watched her carefully after a while.
“You’re really happy.”
Megan blinked.
Then looked down at the baby sleeping against her chest.
And smiled softly.
“Yeah,” she admitted quietly.
“I really am.”
Back at the apartment later that night, Daniela lay half-asleep on the couch while Megan carefully transferred the baby into her bassinet.
“You survived?” Daniela murmured.
“Barely. Lara called her a financially irresponsible frog.”
Daniela snorted.
“Fair.”
Megan climbed onto the couch beside her looking exhausted.
For a second neither of them spoke.
Just sat there listening to the baby’s tiny sleepy noises.
Then Daniela looked over.
“You’re good at this.”
Megan blinked.
“At what?”
“All of it.”
Megan laughed quietly.
“I literally had anti-fainting medication during labor.”
“That doesn’t count.”
Megan looked toward the bassinet.
Then back at Daniela.
“I still feel like I’m making everything up as I go.”
“Yeah,” Daniela said softly. “Me too.”
Megan reached over automatically, intertwining their fingers.
And somehow, despite the exhaustion and stress and complete chaos of their lives now, everything felt strangely okay.
Not perfect.
Definitely not easy.
But real.
Warm.
Home.