Whoopsie!

“You’ve known for two months! Don’t you think it’s time to tell him?” Kimmy asks. “The baby is already a prune.”
I roll my eyes as I rip off another pair of shorts because they too are just a smidge too tight to be comfortable.
Prune, my ass. This baby is at least the size of a freaking pineapple thanks to her—I’m convinced she’s a girl—oversized father.
Tallulah pushes through the front door of our small Cape-Cod style home in Waterland Isle just as I wrangle myself into a cute skirt with an elastic waist.
I say our, but it’s really Tally’s home—she inherited it when her brother passed away not too long ago from prostate cancer—but when I needed a quiet place to live where I could study, she offered to let me move in. I said yes because living the college life in my current condition wasn’t ideal. Once the baby comes, it will be impossible.
My boss, who is really like a mom to me because my actual mom sucks, also offered to take me in. But she’s in the middle of a relationship clusterfuck after sleeping with Gavin, who turned out to be a virgin and the son of her college boyfriend that she is now dating again. Like I said, total clusterfuck.
“No! No, no, no! You are not telling Killian you’re pregnant tonight! You’re the one who talked me into this National Watermelon Day event at The Lizard in the first place. I’m not having him go all Hulk smash in there with a bar full of people, unless it’s with a watermelon between his thighs. Let’s wait until you two can be alone and then you can break the news that he’s going to be a daddy come March. But let’s not do that here. I like this house,” Tally says.
Montana Webber pushes her long brown hair over a slender shoulder, then stomps a foot and sends me a glare only a teacher can make look scary. “I let you get away with not telling him sooner because he had off-season workouts and mini camps, but his first preseason game is in a week. I, for one, will not stand by and watch my team suffer because his head isn’t in the game because his dick was too busy in you back in May.”
Montana is a bit of a Maine Titans’ fan, if you couldn’t already tell.
“Calypso already has organs and structures in place that are ready to grow,” Kimmy says. “I read that in the baby book this morning.”
My friends call my baby Calypso because in Greek mythology, she’s the daughter of the strongest Titan. I’ve pointed out she’s also a nymph and that might not be the best of names for a baby. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that, you know?
Tally pulls Kimmy into her side when she teases her by saying, “We’re proud of your new hobby.”
Kimmy shoves her off. “I read.” She defends her skills. “I know how to read. I just don’t enjoy it like all of you.”
“And on second thought,” Montana begins. “Maybe this will work out for the best. You tell Killian right before it’s his turn to crack open the watermelon between his legs and we get to watch that fruit turn to smithereens.”
We stare at our friend.
“She’s got issues,” I explain. “Teaching her students has sucked everything out of her. She’s spent the last month decomposing in the sun.”
“Compressing,” she corrects. “I’ve been decompressing, and it’s necessary or I’m liable to lose my shit in October instead of the customary April.”