8

Chapter Nine

The hospital waiting room smelled faintly of antiseptic and something citrusy. Maxine sat nervously, fingers laced over her growing belly, trying not to fidget. Her mother sat beside her, flipping through a glossy magazine, clearly trying to appear casual, but Maxine could sense the tension between them like a silent wall. It had been there for months now.

The nurse finally called her name, and Maxine stood up slowly, smoothing down her loose maternity tunic. Her mother followed, silent but present, as they walked down the pale corridor to the ultrasound room.

The scan room was dimly lit, the screen already humming with static. Maxine lay back on the table and lifted her top as the technician applied the cool gel to her stomach. Her mother moved closer, standing at the side of the bed, eyes fixed on the screen.

"Let’s take a look," the technician said, her voice warm. Moments later, the flickering image of a baby filled the screen. Maxine’s breath caught.

There was the baby—her baby—tiny hands curled into fists, a little spine like a string of pearls, and the unmistakable flutter of a heartbeat.

"Looks healthy. Everything seems perfectly normal for a 20-week scan. You’re doing great," the technician said.

Maxine blinked quickly. Her mother sniffed beside her and whispered, "He’s growing so fast."

Maxine turned her head. "You’re still calling the baby ‘he’ even though we don’t know the gender."

Her mom gave her a faint smile. "It’s just a hunch."

After the scan, as they walked out toward the car, Maxine turned to her.

"Has Dad said anything about me?"

Her mother hesitated. "He’s still upset, Max. He doesn't say much, but I know he’s hurting. He’s proud, you know how he is."

"I didn’t want to disappoint him," Maxine said quietly.

"You didn’t. He just needs time to see that."

They parted ways near the metro station. Maxine had classes that afternoon, and she didn’t want to miss them. The weight of her pregnancy already felt like a constant physical reminder of everything that had changed, and she needed to keep a part of her normal life intact.

When she stepped onto the campus, something felt different.

She could sense it in the way heads turned slightly when she walked past.

People whispered just out of earshot, their eyes flickering from her face to the curve of her stomach. She kept her chin up, walked confidently, but inside she felt raw, exposed.

No one said anything directly, but the shift was unmistakable. She wasn’t just Maxine Green the art student anymore. She was the girl with a belly. The girl who kept a secret for too long. The one people had started making stories about.

Her steps quickened until she reached the familiar lecture hall, where Kristen sat sprawled out on her usual seat with her tablet, chewing on the end of her pen.

Kristen looked up the moment Maxine entered, and her whole face lit up.

"There’s my baby mama," she said teasingly, standing and throwing her arms around Maxine in a warm, protective hug.

"Everyone’s looking," Maxine muttered into her shoulder.

"Let them," Kristen whispered back. "You’re stunning and glowing and a literal goddess. They’re just jealous."

Maxine laughed softly, pulling away. "Don’t lie. I look like I haven’t slept in days."

"You probably haven’t," Kristen said, ushering her to sit beside her. "But I’ll still hype you up until you start believing me."

Maxine dropped her bag and took her seat, grateful for Kristen’s presence. Despite everything—despite how her life had spun off into chaos—her best friend remained a steady, unshakable constant.

They spent the class half-listening and half-scribbling notes, occasionally whispering little jokes. The familiar rhythm helped soothe Maxine’s nerves. Being there, surrounded by pencils and sketchpads, felt like slipping into a version of herself she missed.

After the lecture, Kristen looped her arm through Maxine’s. "Wanna grab lunch? I’m craving fries. And don’t even try to say no. I saw you gagging at the smell of cafeteria curry."

Maxine rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Fries sound good."

They walked out together, past the eyes, past the whispers. Kristen didn’t let go of her arm.

Maxine realized in that moment that whatever came next, she wasn’t alone. And sometimes, that was all she needed to keep going.