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child floats in there. She runs her fingers up the fine line of fuzz rising from Chandra’s pubic hair to her belly button, following
the curve of the dark line that has formed in the skin beneath. Chandra is letting that hair grow back, though she still shaves her legs and underarms.
    â€œYour creep doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Monica murmurs. “You are beautiful.” Monica’s fingers edge up over Chandra’s belly button, which is starting to stick out now like a cork in a wine bottle; tenderly she fingers it, then slides down the smooth slope of her side and back to her pubic mound.
    â€œI’m not into this,” says Chandra.
    â€œNeither am I,” says Monica, working her fingers into Chandra’s moist cunt, then sliding them across her clit. More than anything else, she feels curious.
    â€œWhy does everything feel fuller now?” Chandra murmurs, as though this were some sort of medical examination. “My whole crotch feels swollen all the time, like I’m always turned on, even when I’m not. And I’m really not right now.”
    Monica notices she sounds a bit breathless. She sits up and spreads Chandra’s legs, to have a better look at her cunt. Beneath its furry covering are lips so purple they almost seem dark brown, and what she can see of the interior looks richer and heavier than her own light pink. She stares, half expecting to see a tiny baby slide out. With her hands on Chandra’s swollen sides, she feels a fluttering, as though doves were trapped in there.
    â€œIt’s moving,” Chandra explains. “It seems to like this.”
    Monica puts her tongue to the tip of Chandra’s purple clit, experimentally, because she’s really not into this, either, and is surprised to feel an almost electric jolt shoot through her, down to her own little clit, which throbs even though no one is touching it. Chandra lies still, not breathing, which worries Monica.

    â€œKeep breathing for the baby!” Monica orders, running her fingers up and down Chandra’s inner thighs while circling her clit with her tongue until Chandra shivers and inhales deeply, her belly surging.
    Earthquake, thinks Monica as her own insides tremble. We’re just two California girls sharing a good old earthquake. Her hand massages Chandra’s stomach until all is quiet in there.
    Monica wants to turn around, thinking, Why not? Her mouth is as good as any of those guys I fool around with —but Chandra’s belly is in the way, and Chandra definitely isn’t going to be into sucking her anyway, so she puts her fingers to her own cunt, sliding its moisture over her clit, and breathes in unison with Chandra. Monica thinks of the big creep, as she always does at such moments, and knows that Chandra, her eyes closed tight, is thinking of her little creep, who would only suck her after every hair was waxed off. Monica licks Chandra’s soft hair just to prove she’s better than him, and feels Chandra’s belly contract at that moment, feels the flickering throbs of Chandra’s clit with her tongue as she comes.
    Monica lies with her ear to Chandra’s belly, to see if she can hear splashing inside as the baby swims, but all is quiet. Her fingers keep sliding around her own clit until she comes, too, but Chandra, snoring lightly now, doesn’t notice. After a while Monica sleeps, dreaming that she hears the baby hum inside Chandra like a small whale.
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    Chandra takes the vitamins Monica brings her, on the advice of her father, who is at least a doctor even if he’s not an obstetrician, and watches her diet. When Monica flies out to California to visit her father, to prove she’s not the one who’s pregnant, Chandra stays alone in the apartment. She’s developed
the habits of a person in hiding during a war—sleeping all day and walking at night. Some nights she even goes outside and walks the