The Goal

So money doesn’t matter once you get down to it. It doesn’t matter how thin or thick anyone’s wallet is. We all hurt. We all love. We’re the same.

Rules are for suckers and boring people,

My goal, once upon a time, was to succeed. I didn’t realize that success wasn’t grades or scholarships or achievements, but the people I was lucky enough to have in my life.

You’re the only one for me. My sun rises and sets on your smile. My heart beats because yours does.

We all hurt. We all love. We’re the same. And your past, who you live with, where you came from, it doesn’t have to matter. You’re creating your own future, and I want to see where the road forward takes you.

Because love is the ultimate goal. It’s not the one I had strived for, but I was lucky enough, so damn lucky, to achieve it.

Footsteps approach the kitchen. Garrett wanders in, wiping sweat off his brow. When he notices Sabrina, he brightens. “Oh good. You’re here. Hold on—gotta grab something.”She turns to me as if to say, Is he talking to me?He’s already gone, though, his footsteps thumping up the stairs.At the table, Hannah runs a hand through her hair and gives me a pleading look. “Just remember he’s your best friend, okay?”That doesn’t sound ominous.When Garrett returns, he’s holding a notepad and a ballpoint pen, which he sets on the table as he sits across from Sabrina. “Tuck,” he says. “Sit. This is important.”I’m so baffled right now. Hannah’s resigned expression doesn’t help in lessening the confusion.Once I’m seated next to Sabrina, Garrett flips open the notepad, all business. “Okay. So let’s go over the names.”Sabrina raises an eyebrow at me.I shrug, because I legitimately don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.“I’ve put together a solid list. I really think you’re going to like these.” But when he glances down at the page, his face falls. “Ah crap. We can’t use any of the boy names.”“Wait.” Sabrina holds up a hand, her brow furrowed. “You’re picking names for our baby?”He nods, busy flipping the page.My baby mama gapes at me.I shrug again.“Just out of curiosity, what were the boy names?” Grace hedges, clearly fighting a smile.He cheers up again. “Well, the top contender was Garrett.”I snicker loud enough to rattle Sabrina’s water glass. “Uh-huh,” I say, playing along. “And what was the runner-up?”“Graham.”Hannah sighs.“But it’s okay. I have some kickass girl names too.” He taps his pen on the pad, meets our eyes, and utters two syllables. “Gigi.”My jaw drops. “Are you kidding me? I’m not naming my daughter Gigi.”Sabrina is mystified. “Why Gigi?” she asks slowly.Hannah sighs again.The name suddenly clicks in my head. Oh for fuck’s sake.“G.G.,” I mutter to Sabrina. “As in Garrett Graham.”She’s silent for a beat. Then she bursts out laughing, triggering giggles from Grace and eventually Hannah, who keeps shaking her head at her boyfriend.“What?” Garrett says defensively. “The godfather should have a say in the name. It’s in the rule book.”“What rule book?” Hannah bursts out. “You make up the rules as you go along!”“So?

I love you,” she confirms. I take a step closer. “Since when?” “Since fucking always.

As I brush my teeth, I scroll through my phone to see if Sabrina texted when my phone was on silent last night.She didn’t. Damn. I was hoping my speech—and that amazing fucking kiss—might’ve changed her mind about going out with me, but I guess it didn’t.I do, however, find the most mind-boggling conversation in the group chat I have with my roommates. All the messages are from last night, and they’re bizarre as fuck.Garrett: The hells, D?!Dean: It’s not what you think!!Logan: It’s hard to mistake ur romantic bath with that giant pink thing! In ur ass!Dean: It wasn’t in my ass!Garrett: I’m not even going to ask where it wasDean: I had a girl over!Garrett: SuuuuuuuuureLogan: SuuuuuuuuureDean: I hate you guysGarrett: <3Logan: <3I rinse my mouth out, spit, and drop the toothbrush into the little cup on the sink. Then I quickly type out a text.Me: Wait… what did I miss?Since we have practice in twenty minutes, the guys are already awake and clearly on their phones. Two photos pop up simultaneously. Garrett and Logan have both sent me pics of pink dildos. I’m even more confused now.Dean messages immediately with, Why do you guys have dildo pics handy?Logan: ALINIMBDean: ??Me: ??Garrett: At Least It’s Not In My Butt.I snort to myself, because I’m starting to piece it together.Logan: Nice, G! U got that on the first try!Garrett: We spend too much time 2gether.Me: PLEASE tell me u caught D playing w/ dildos.Logan: Sure did.Dean is quick to object again.I HAD A GIRL OVER!The guys and I rag on him for a couple more minutes, but I have to stop when Fitzy stumbles into the bathroom and shoves me aside. He’s got crazy bedhead and he’s buck-naked.“Gotta piss,” he mumbles.“Mornin’, sunshine,” I say cheerfully. “Want me to make you some coffee?”“God. Yes. Please.”Chuckling, I duck out of the bathroom and walk the four or so steps into his kitchenette. When he finally emerges, I shove a cup of coffee in his hand, sip my own, and say, “Dean shoved a dildo up his ass last night.”Fitzy nods. “Makes sense.”I snicker mid-sip. Coffee spills over the rim of my cup. “It really does, huh?

Apparently I’m the only one who thinks this is the worst fucking idea since horses,” Garrett says irritably.“Horses?” Logan and Fitzy echo in unison.“Like, horses in general?” Morris asks in confusion.“As in, domesticating them,” he grumbles. “They belong in the wild. End of story.”“Babe,” Hannah hedges in, “are you just saying that because you’re scared of horses?”His jaw drops. “I’m not scared of horses.”She ignores the denial. “Oh my God, it’s all coming together. That’s why you wouldn’t go to the Thanksgiving fair in Philly.” She glances at the rest of us. “My aunt and uncle wanted to take us to this festival thing with all these cool booths and a petting zoo…and horseback riding. He said his stomach hurt.”Garrett visibly clenches his teeth. “My stomach did hurt. I ate too much fucking turkey, Wellsy. Anyway, I don’t like this.

Dean shoved a dildo up his ass last night.” Fitzy nods. “Makes sense.

Just out of curiosity, what were the boy names?” Grace hedges, clearly fighting a smile. He cheers up again. “Well, the top contender was Garrett.” I snicker loud enough to rattle Sabrina’s water glass. “Uh-huh,” I say, playing along. “And what was the runner-up?” “Graham.

I fight the grin that’s trying to surface. For all his sweet words and aw shucks smiles, Tucker really is an alpha fucker. I don’t know why that thrills me so much, but it does.

Sometimes I worry that we’re too happy, but then a visit to Nana’s house brings things into focus. We’re happy because we want to be, because we’re pouring our energy and emotion into each other in the best possible way. My

I want to know now,” I whine, not caring that I sound like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum.“How about this? We’ll Rock, Paper, Scissors for it.”Yeah, we’re going to make great parents, all right.“Fine.” I crack my knuckles, which makes him snicker. “Ready?”“Ready.”We count in unison. On three, we reveal our hands. He did paper. I did rock.“I win,” he says smugly.“Sorry, baby, but you lose.”“Paper covers rock!”I smirk. “Rock weighs down the paper so it can’t fly away. It traps it.”A loud sigh fills the room. “I’m not going to win on this, am I?”“Nope.” But he looks so cute right now that I offer a compromise. “How about this? You can leave the room while the doctor tells me, and I swear I won’t give it away. I’ll hide all my baby purchases in my closet so you can’t see what I’m buying.”“Deal

I wonder if I should get one of those baby-on-board signs. That way the assholes behind me can learn a little patience instead of laying on the horn like we’re all in some motherfucking emergency,” Tucker grumbles as he helps me out.“What’s going to happen when one of those fuckers comes to your door wanting to take Jamie out on a date?”Tucker stops abruptly, causing me to collide with his stiff back. “She’s going to an all-girls school.”“Okay, so what happens if one of those fuckers is a female wanting to take Jamie out on a date?”“None of this would be a problem,” he accuses, “if we stayed in the hospital like I suggested.

She can cry for five more seconds,” I decide. “We’re trying out that self-soothing thing anyway, remember?”Her lips quiver with humor. “I thought you were against it.” She deepens her voice and gives it a drawl to mimic me. “‘I ain’t gonna let my princess suffer, darlin’. What kind of father does that?’”My jaw drops in outrage. “I did not say ain’t.”“You may as well have.

Girl, someone with your schedule isn’t allowed to go a month without sex,” Hope counters. “You’re a walking ball of stress, which means you need a good dicking at least…daily,” she decides. “Every other day,” Carin argues. “Give her lady garden some time to rest.

She’s so gorgeous. I can’t believe we made her,” he says quietly against my ear. “I’m buying a chastity belt.”“I don’t think she needs one yet.”“I’m thinking ahead.” He gently moves me aside to pluck the carrier out of the base.I arch a brow. “I heard you once had a threesome.”He nearly trips on a non-existent crack in the sidewalk. A light cough precedes his query, “A threesome? Who’d you hear that from?”Ha! He doesn’t deny it. Amused, I brush by him to get the front door. “Carin heard it. Said it was always the quiet ones.”“No threesomes for Jamie,” he declares. “Maybe we should homeschool her until she’s thirty.”“We’re turning into hypocrites.”Tucker nods enthusiastically. “Yup, and no guilt here.” Right before he ducks into the house, he murmurs, “By the way, it was a foursome.”I gasp. “Two guys and two girls?”He smirks. “Three girls and me.”“Wow.” I’m more impressed than angry. “Good for you, stud.

I choke on a gasp, because oh my God, his penis is right there. And it’s impressive. Beside me, Carin is also quick to examine the goods. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Well, hello there, Manaconda!” she calls to the model before sweeping her gaze over the other females in attendance. “Ladies, I think Spector deserves a slow clap right now, no?” Now I’m the one fighting laughter, because damned if the ladies don’t all break out in a slow, slow clap that leads to a burst of applause followed by whistles and catcalls.

Mom’s going to love you,” I assure her. “You’ll see.”*Mom hates her.Or at least, she’s doing a good job of hiding her love.

I furrow my brow. “And how would that even affect you?”Since I’m not seeing his logic, he slowly spells it out for me. “Sides, dude. People break up, their friends take sides. Dean’s my buddy, so obviously the bro code says I have to side with him. But this one—” He jerks a thumb at Hannah, “is my girlfriend. Girlfriend trumps buddy. Wellsy’ll take Allie’s side, and I’ll have to take Wellsy’s side, vis-à-vis, I’m taking Allie’s side.”“I don’t think you’re using vis-à-vis right,” Morris pipes up.“Yeah, I believe the word you’re looking for is therefore.” Logan’s lips are twitching wildly.“I wouldn’t expect you to take Allie’s side on my behalf,” Hannah protests. “And you’re being such a jackass about this. We’re adults. If they break up, we’ll all still be able to co-exist peacefully.”“Ross and Rachel co-existed,” Logan agrees.Fitzy snorts.

Hunter scored a total beauty in the third,” Hollis says from his stool. “I almost came in my pants.”“Don’t be crude in front of the baby,” I say immediately.“Bro, you brought a baby to a bar. Go throw glass stones in your own house.” When everyone snickers, Hollis is visibly confused. “What?”“That’s not the phrase,” Hannah says helpfully.“Sure it is.”“It’s really not.”Hollis waves a hand. “You know nothing, Jon Snow.

We need an engineering friend.” She points a finger at Carin. “Go back to Briar and hook up with an engineering student.”“Okay, but I’ll need to actually have sex with him beforehand, so I won’t be back until,” she pretends to check the time, “ten or so.”“We’re all college graduates,” I proclaim. “We can put this together ourselves.”Clapping my hands, I motion for everyone to get on the floor with me. After three tries of trying to lower myself to the ground and making Hope and Carin nearly pee their pants laughing in the process, D’Andre takes pity on all of us and helps me onto my knees. Which is where Tucker finds us.“Is this some new fertility ritual?” he drawls from the doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame. “Because she’s already pregnant, you know.”“Get yo ass in here, white boy, and put this thing together,” D’Andre snaps. “This is ridiculous.”“What’s ridiculous?” Tucker stops next to me, and I take the opportunity to lean against his legs. Even kneeling is hard when you’re toting around an extra thirty pounds. “We took it apart. How can you not know how to put it back together?”D’Andre repeats his earlier excuse. “I’m an accounting major.”Tucker rolls his eyes. “You got an Allen wrench?”“Are you mocking us right now?” I grumble. “I don’t have any wrenches, let alone ones with names.”He grins. “Leave this to me, darlin’. I’ll get it fixed up.”“I want to help,” Hope volunteers. “This is like surgery, except with wood and not people.”“Lord help us,” D’Andre mutters.

She does love me, but sometimes that love is so tainted, I don’t know if it’s hurting me or helping me.

I will up some of that patience and wait for him to open my door. This guy refuses to let me open doors. It’s like he doesn’t understand that I have hands

Just hanging with some friends,” I say vaguely.“What friends? All your friends are here—” He waves a hand around the rink. “And I know for a fact you weren’t with any of them.”I shrug. “You don’t know these friends.” Then I shift my gaze back to the ice as Dean grumbles beside me.“Jesus fuck, you’re worse than Antoine and Marie-Thérèse.”My head swings back. “Excuse me?”“Forget it,” he mutters.Who the fuck are Antoine and Marie-Thérèse? Just like Dean knows all my friends, I know all of his, and I’m pretty sure we don’t know anyone with those names. But whatever. I don’t want him pushing me for answers, so I’m not about to push him.

We’re here to help ease you through the labor process. The mainstream media and health organizations feed you an endless supply of fear and paranoia, but the truth is that childbirth does not have to be a painful experience. Today we will start our journey to a joyful and pleasurable labor. These three classes will help you refocus your negative feelings, drawing in serenity and pushing out fear.”“Are we in a breathing class or signing up for a cult?” Tucker whispers.Cult. Definitely cult.“Partners, helpers, move into position behind the mama.”“I already hate this woman,” I hiss as he crouches behind me.“Because she called you mama or because she says it’s not a painful experience?”A man a few mats down raises his hand. “Where should we put our hands?”“Great question, Mark.”Oh God, she remembers all our names.“During labor, the appropriate position will be the lower back, but for today, we’re concentrating on relaxation, so please place your hands on your partner’s shoulders.”Next to me, one expectant mother is taking copious notes, as if Stacy in the peasant skirt is the oracle of laborhood, speaking the ten commandments of birthing.“If she says, ‘There’s nothing to fear but fear itself,’ we’re out of here,” I say a little too loudly.The gunner and her equally serious partner turn around to glare at me. A burble of laughter threatens to escape. Can we get arrested for disturbing the peace in a breathing class

For the past eight hours, I’ve been about as helpful as a fish out of water. Or a fish in water, because what the fuck do fish really offer to society?

So there are pics of Tucker’s mighty wang on the internet?”“I haven’t been tagged on Instagram yet, so I’m hopeful they aren’t out there. But thanks for calling my dick mighty. We appreciate that.” Amusement colors his words.“We? As in you and your penis?”“Yup,” he says cheerfully.I snuggle deeper under the covers. “You have a name for your penis?”“Doesn’t everyone? Guys put a name on everything that’s important to them—cars, dicks. One of my teammates in junior hockey named his stick, which was dumb because sticks break all the time. He’d gone through twelve of them by the end of the season.”“What were the names?”“That’s the thing. He just kept adding a number to the end, like iPhone 6, iPhone 7, except in his case it was Henrietta 1, Henrietta 2, et cetera.”I snicker. “He should’ve used the hurricane naming convention.”“Darlin’, he wasn’t smart enough to come up with two names, let alone twelve.