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Ami had been sitting at home obsessing… over her roots. The research she had been doing over the last couple of weeks told her that it wasn’t a good idea to expose herself to many chemicals. She stood in front of her mirror, staring intently at the small line of brunette and where her highlights disconnected. Everything had been driving her crazy lately, like last night while watching TV a commercial came on for a chocolate bar. Ami wanted one so bad she began to sob uncontrollably. She moved on from the mirror and sat at her dressing table. Every inch of the table was covered with body lotions, perfume and jewellery; the drawers barely closed. Ami went to stuff a bottle of concealer into the draw when she spotted the pregnancy test. The test she had done in the bathroom of the train on her way home one weekend.
She stood scared in the tiny closet lavatory, praying to God, Jesus, Allah, whoever was listening that her life would not be ruined. They must have been busy because the little window showed a pink plus sign. Ami slid down to the floor, a month ago she got drunk on Bellinis at a party a few weeks back and was easily wooed by Elijah’s heroic sports stories.
She held the test in her hand. There was no way she was going to do this alone. Elijah’s room was a floor or two below hers. Ami stuck the stick in her purse and left her room. She hesitated at the stairs, pondering her options, but then realized that this kid didn’t have to pay for her mistakes. She descended the stair and stood before his door. She inhaled and knocked on the door.