Omg! Is Jay pregnant?! Who's the father?! How will she react to Gabe moving in?! Read and Review. Merci beaucoup. (:
Song Recommendation- New Perspective- Panic! At The Disco
I'm Not One For Love Songs
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU PREGNANT?! you’re on the pill for fucking Satan’s sake!” I screamed.
“It’s not for me! It’s even worst!”
“Wait, it’s not for you?”
“NO! But I have a question, uhm, can cats take pregnancy tests too?”
“What the fuck are you on?! Who asks a question like that?! I am so confused, I’m really about to pull your hair out and then mine.”
“Well you know Mr. B?” she asked me
Confused I answered, “Joe’s cat? What about it?”
“Well, apparently Mr. B is a Mrs. B. And I think that she might be pregnant.”
“Are you fucking kidding me dude? You gave me a fucking heart attack!”
“Dude! I was supposed to be watching his cat a few weeks ago when he went away for a few days, remember? Well, I opened the door and he, or she, or it, or well shit, went out the door and before I could stop the shit it had found a cat partner. I thought they were just playing so I let them play for a little bit while I read my book. Apparently cat sex looks like playing?” she asked sheepishly.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I still questioned in shock.
“No?” she hesitantly confirmed.
“What the fuck?”
“Dude! If Joe finds out I let his cat get pregnant he’ll fucking kill me! He specifically told me to make sure that it stayed in the house and that I took good care of it!” she panicked.
“What even makes you think that it’s pregnant? Cause it’s not fixed, it fucked, and it’s been all moody and pissy lately!”
“Is this the same cat that has mood problems, takes depression medication, and pukes all over his Barbie hair carpet?”
“Yep,” she confirmed as if there was nothing wrong with what I had just said.
I just sighed, rubbing my forehead, “I guess we can try? Do you have the cat?”
She just kind of grinned before responding, “No, but I have its piss…”
“WHY THE FUCKING AM I FRIENDS WITH YOU?!” I screamed as she pulled out a little container of what I was assuming was cat urine. I seriously need to write a bibliography or have a reality T.V. show or something. This kind of life can not be good for my sanity. It really can’t.
“Because you love me?” she smiled innocently.
“Fuck my life. Seriously. Just fuck it and make it pregnant,” I murmured to myself.
“You know, your pregnancy jokes are really not appreciated at the moment. This is a very fragile subject,” Jay tried scolding me.
I stared at her blankly, “Your boyfriend’s cat might be pregnant and you’re calling THAT a fragile situation? What is wrong with you?! Really? What mental sickness have you been hiding from me these past few years? We don't judge here, I promise! We accept everyone!” I said with a mocking smile.
“One, he’s not my boyfriend. Two, nothing is wrong with me and that is like the tenth time that you’ve insinuated that I’m not completely there mentally. All of your little quips are going to start giving me a complex soon.”
“Oh, about that first part, what’s up with that? He’s not officially your boyfriend? You guys have been hooking up for how long? 9 months?” I questioned curiously.
“11 months,” she corrected without a second thought.
“Exactly,” was all I had to say.
“Dude, I just really don’t want a relationship. We’re young; commitment would just hold me back right now.”
“I never really understood when people would talk about how commitment holds them back. What exactly is it going to hold you back from? You and Joe have been all cozy and comfy for 11 fucking months, you have a relationship, but you just refuse to label it as one. And honestly, has he ever REALLY held you back from anything? Has he grabbed you by the shoulders and told you that you can’t do something?”
“Well,” she started.
“Dude, you know he hasn’t. He has never done anything even remotely close to that. If anything, he pushes you and makes you take every opportunity that’s given to you,” she seemed to hardly be listening to me while she sat up the stupid cat pregnancy tests. Yes, tests, as in plural. There had to be at least nine of them.
“I know,” she said simply.
“Are you afraid that he’ll be another Larry?” I asked quietly.
Larry was her guy before Joe. They’d done the casual thing for 4 months and then when they decided to start an actual relationship it was all good and fine until Jay found out that she was the only one who had stopped dating on the side and actually been in the relationship. Yeah, walking in on your boyfriend in a foursome with 2 girls and another GUY was not the ideal way to celebrate your 4 month anniversary as a couple.
“Maybe, but I mean, can you blame me?” she asked.
“Honestly, no. But I think you need to realize that Joseph Trohman is NOT Larry Dennings and I really don’t think he’s gonna screw you over like Larry did. He's a Jew, Jews only screw people over when money's involved. But in all seriousness, I think he’s the real deal dude,” I gave her my honest input.
“I think so too. I just don’t know how to make the first move! I just have him so okay with this no label thing that he doesn’t even push for making it official. I dug my own grave, now I have to lay in it,” she sighed.
“Not necessarily…” I grinned. “Oh, how long have the tests been in?” I asked referring to the pregnancy tests surrounding in the bathroom.
“Five minutes, we’ve got two more minutes to go,” she answered, “And what exactly do you mean?”
“Well, just because you don’t have the balls to get done what should get done doesn’t mean that I don’t. I have balls, believe me, I have very large balls. And they’re always there to get things done,” I smiled, thinking of how exactly I can scheme Joe into labeling their relationship as a relationship.
“Oh, believe me, I believe in your balls. I’ve seen them in action before you tranny,” she smirked.
“Oh shut the fuck up, I am saving your life and your current impending future of loneliness and this is how you repay me? With biting remarks?” I pouted as the timer went off.
“Oh, I will never be alone! I’ll have YOU!” she grinned.
“You wish, you'll just have the ten bazillion cats that are going to come out of that retard cat's vagina. Say hello to being a cat lady,” I mumbled as we started checking all of the tests in the bathroom. I ignored her glare and smiled to myself. I think I'm funny, and that's all that matters. So ha.
The final consensus was that Mr./Mrs. B was not pregnant because 8 out of the 9 tests said no. And the one that we were iffy about read 1 ½ lines instead of the two that would say that she wasn’t pregnant.
“Thank fucking God,” Jaycee sighed as soon as all the tests were wrapped up and thrown away.
I rolled my eyes and walked out of the bathroom with her following into the living room.
“I can’t believe we seriously just did nine pregnancy tests for a fucking cat,” I stated in disbelief, “How did you even get its freaking pee?” I questioned as I looked through the T.V. channels for something good.
“You really don’t wanna know, believe me,” she stated with a horrified look on her face.
“Uhm, that’s fine. I’m okay with staying clueless to that little situation,” I informed her.
“So where’s Gabe?” she asked looking around as if he’d just be sitting around somewhere, “he’s been getting pretty cozy here lately.”
“He’s actually gonna move in for a little bit to try and get his little addiction problems under control,” I told her. Not like she had a choice.
“That’s probably for the best, that guy was BAD the other night. He got really fucked up. I wouldn’t wanna be his head the day after that, hangover times infinity orly?”
“Exactly. But it stems from a lot more than that, and we even talked about ‘the incident’ a few years ago,” I mentioned casually.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What could you guys have possibly talked about concerning that little ‘incident’ at Sal’s?”
“He was in a bad place, I was in a bad place. He made a mistake, that doesn’t change anything, but I can’t find it in myself to be too angry after I learned everything and got my explanation,” I admitted.
“I won’t pry because I’m sure that it’s none of my business. And I know you’ve got a good head on your shoulder; I trust your judgment,” she told me with a pat on my head.
“Awww! Thanks cuntface!” I spoke sugary sweetly as I pinched her cheeks mockingly.
She slapped my hands away as we relaxed and started watching the television. Ironically enough it was True Life, I guess it must be a marathon. I tried to shake Gabe out of my head and get sucked into True Life: I’m In A Love Triangle. He better have fun today, or at least enjoy some time with his friends, or else I’ll kick his ass.
“I can't believe you thought I was pregnant,” Jay said suddenly and laughed loudly at me.
“Oh my god, shut up, you would’ve thought the same thing if you were in my shoes,” I pouted with my arms crossed across my chest.
“Yeah, but that’s just cause you’re more likely to end up pregnant than me,” she said.
“Says who?” I asked with drawn in eyebrows.
“Statistics. I’m on birth control, you’re not. Condom + birth control = 198% protection guaranteed. Condom only equals 99% percent protection,” she told me, as if I didn’t already know.
“Shut up, at least we’re not in love triangles, or even worst, the SAME love triangle,” I said as I nodded to the T.V. at the train wreck that was unfolding.
“Tru dat,” she agreed. We continued watching the episode, and then the next, then the next. You’ve got to love MTV show marathons.
Only one thought entered my mind that left me worrying- Gabe better behave.