Exhausted and tipsy, we stumble back to the hotel and slip off into our rooms.

When I see Molly the next morning in the hotel lobby, her eyes are big and wide. Grabbing my arm, she pulls me aside and she says in a hushed whisper, “I have to tell you something.”

“Tell me what?” I ask, leaning in expectantly. I just know this is going to be good. Her voice comes out in a whispered shreik.

“I think you got me pregnant!”

“I did what?” I whisper back.

“Yeah, he just went for it,” she says, shrugging and giving me a knowing nod.

“Went for? Oh. That’s silly. You can’t possibly know if you’re pregnant already,” I say laughing at her theatrics.

“Jessi, I’m serious,” she says adamantly.

Except, I cannot take her seriously. Not even a little bit. I can’t even take myself seriously let alone whatever is this is. True to form, I don’t take it seriously. Instead, I slip in one of my unwanted jokes.

“Are you trying to tell me I’m a baby daddy now?” I ask teasing her. Used to my nonsense, she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she matches my energy.

“Basically,” she agrees. “You got me pregnant!”

I’m not sure whether to laugh or to be significantly impressed.

“I never knew my sperm was so powerful.”

She cracks up at this, throwing heer head back cackling.

“Super sperm!” She agrees, nodding her head, causing her ponytail to boggle up and down.

Suddenly, I’m not so sure if we’re kidding anymore.

Could she really be pregnant? I guess we’ll soon find out.

The rest of the weekend flies by us in a blur, leaving us and our memories in the Missouri dust. As we say goodbye in her driveway, tears stream down our faces as if we’re never going to see each other again.

3 weeks later, she texts me. 

"I'm pregnant."