Page 107 of Almost
The television in the corner does a close-up of Sebastian, and I can tell by the way he’s holding himself he’s pissed that they can’t string a few plays together.
I rest my hand on my stomach, feeling the baby press up right against my bladder. “Sorry, I have to pee again. Chris, can you please help me up?” I ask, nudging him. I hate that I have to ask for help getting up. I wish this baby would take pity on me, and just come out already. I’ve been having Braxton Hicks for the last few weeks, but every time we’ve gone to the hospital, I’m still at two centimeters dilated.
“Hm? Oh, yeah, of course,” Chris says, standing to help me to my feet.
“Thanks.” I smile appreciatively at him, accepting his help. I waddle a few steps, stealing another glance at the field when I feel liquid run down my leg. I turn back to look at Blake, who is shaking her head at me. “Did I just pee myself?”
“No, you didn’t pee yourself.” Chris snorts without looking, but I can’t see anything in front of me to check, but it definitely feels like I peed myself. His jaw drops when he looks away from the field to see what I’m talking about. “I think your water broke.”
“I told you not to get so excited, Thalia,” Blake sings, and it dawns on me.
I’m going into labor. Holy fucking shit, I’m going into labor, and Bash is down on the field. I take it back. I do not want this baby to come out yet. I am not ready to be a mother.I don’t want to poop myself when I give birth.
“No, you can’t start panicking, you’re going to be fine,” she continues, resting her hands on my shoulders as theentire box comes alive. Apparently to everyone in here, me giving birth is a much bigger deal than the Super Bowl.They need to check their priorities.
I reach into the pocket of my jacket for my phone, but it’s not there. “Shit, shit, shit. Does anyone see my phone?” A contraction that is definitely not Braxton Hicks anymore causes me to grit my teeth.I’m definitely panicking.
Chris shoves it into my hand, already pulling his car keys out of his front pocket. “We’re going to the hospital now.”
“No. I’m calling Owen first,” I say firmly, pressing his contact from my speed dial options. It rings a few times, and he sends me to voice mail. I look at him from where he stands on the sidelines, shoving his phone into his pocket. I call him again and this time he answers.Asshole.
“What, Thalia? I can’t exactly talk right now; this is the biggest game of the season!”
“I think I’m the only one in this box aware it’s the fucking Super Bowl besides Chris. Can I talk to Bash?”
“That’s funny. You can talk to your boyfriend after the game.” Owen laughs, clearly not understanding the urgency.
“Owen, I have a key to your house, and I will slowly murder you in your sleep if you don’t put him on the phone,” I snap impatiently as Chris’s eyes widen.
“We’re mid-game right now, can’t it wait until after?”
I rest my hand on my stomach, wishing the same thing. “No! It can’t wait, jerk! My water just broke.”
The cameras choose to do a quick scan of the coaches at that exact moment, and the look on Owen’s face is priceless. “Can’t you hold it in or something until after the game? Bash can’t leave.”
“My baby is not anit, so no, I can’t just hold it in. Now would be a good time to fucking call Sebastian over so I can fucking talk to him.” I can’t believe he just said that, but Owen wisely does what I say this time. Bash is sitting on the bench while the defense is out there, no doubt running potential plays through his head. It’s not like I’m pulling him off the field.
I feel so many emotions right now that I don’t even know how I feel, but the second I hear Sebastian’s voice through the phone, tears immediately blur my vision. “Thalia? Are you okay? Is it the baby?”Stupid pregnancy hormones.
“I’m okay, well, not really okay. My water kind of just broke and—”
“Now?” he asks, startled, cutting me off. His helmet is off so you can see the reaction on his face on the television as the cameras zoom in on him and Owen. A coach pulling the quarterback over for a phone call mid-game in a Super Bowl is going to catch people’s attention. “I’ll be there in a second, I just need to—fuck, do we have everything we need?”
I wipe my cheeks quickly as he looks up at the box we’re in. “Yes, we have everything we need. The emergency bag is in my car with the car seat. Bash, I can’t believe I’m fucking saying this, but you need to stay. Chris and Blake are going to take me to the hospital, but this is everything you’ve worked for this year.”
“Lia, I don’t care if I’m meeting with the president right now! I’m coming with you because that is my kid you’re having.”
“Sebastian fucking Walker, sit your ass back down on that bench. You are going to make it in time. Labor takes forfucking ever, so go out there and win the game. I haven’t even had contractions yet.”A tiny lie, but who is it hurting?
We knew this was a possibility when we found out my due date was two days before the Super Bowl.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, running a hand over his face. “Okay, I love you and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I love you too. Give the phone back to my idiot brother.”
“I’m an idiot,” Owen starts off with, and I’m just glad he knows it. “Your baby isn’t an it, and I’m sorry for calling it one.”
“Yeah, you are an idiot. Do me a favor and make sure he stays on the field.”