Call Miranda

Rubbing your eyes and sighing, you click on Miranda's name in the phone's contact list. She was one of the girls Zoe went on her vacation with. Even if she refused to help you, she might have information you could use to track down Zoe, and get changed back. At least, that's what you told yourself as you rubbed your belly. You feel weak, trembly, and even a little light headed. The longer you sit in the sweltering sun, the more you realize you just want to lie down and rest. The fuck you just enjoyed gave you a second adrenaline rush, but now it's wearing off and the noon sun is slowly sapping whatever energy remains in you. It was even worse as you hadn't eaten a real meal since the previous night.

You look down to the phone. The most recent text to Miranda was from more than a week ago, and just seemed to be a meet up text containing a location and time. The date was from when the pair were still on vacation, but that didn't seem too odd considering Zoe had been replaced by her body double for the past week. The sun beat down on your sweaty body as your fingers dance across Zoe's phone and send the text.

"miranda. u there?" You fidget, suddenly feeling very small, despite your massive belly. You sent more hope with that little text than you realized, and you weren't sure what was going to come back.

The phone chirps, and a text bubble appears. "ABOUT DUCKING TIME." You stare at the phone for an uncomfortable amount of time. What was that about? Did Zoe have some secret arrangement with Miranda? A second text appears. "FUCKING FUCKING FUCK!!! Stupid phone."

After a bemused pause you text her back. "I know I'm txting with Zoes phone, but Im not who u think I am."

"What?" The text arrives immediately after you sent your reply. A bubble indicating she was typing hovered on the screen for an uncomfortably long time before the next text arrived.

"Who is this then?"

You grumble to yourself, suddenly recalling the absurd name you told Liam. You shake the thought from your mind, and text, "Lucas."

"Y do you have Zoe's phone?!" The reply comes quickly

"This is going to sound crazy, but Zoe was kidnapped." Another uncomfortable silence hangs in the air, and you feel a bead of sweat break, and race down your belly. You scratch it, and at last the next message appears.

"You know too then?" The text plays through your mind again and again. Miranda knew? She knew and she didn't say anything? Why? Didn't she care about her best friend? Didn't she care about your family? Did she really know the full situation? As the war of emotions started to rage inside you, one rose to the surface. Anger.

"YOU KNEW??? Why didn't you tell anyone???"

"Don't worry about that. Why are YOU texting me with ZOE's phone?"

"You're not going to believe me if I tell you."

"Try me."

"Our house was raided by government agents."

"That still doesn't explain why you're on Zoe's phone."

"Something happened to me."

"Let me guess, Zoe? Or... Fake Zoe did something?"

"You know abOUT THAT TOO?" The text flies from your fingers frantically.

"Let's meet up." The text interrupted your thoughts. It wasn't the reply you expected, but it was exactly what you had wanted in the first place.

Not knowing what else to do, and temporarily disarmed, you send her your current location, and lean back in the bench with a sigh. Leaning back seems to pivot your body around your plump ass, and now your feet dangle, barely reaching the ground. You swing them lackadaisically, before suddenly realizing, you have to pee again... already. You stop swinging your feet and cross your ankles. Fortunately, It isn't long before a trendy white compact car pulls up. Miranda comes to a stop, tosses her curly blond hair, and inspects herself in the rear view mirror. You see that she has a flawless golden complexion, and the body of a lean goddess, though something is different compared to the last time you saw her. The lines of her cheeks and brow are more defined, and her jaw is delicate, but sharp, like the edge of a knife. She gets out of the car, showing off her long legs covered in tight jeans, and feet in strappy sandles. A grey peasant top hangs loosely from her shoulders with flowing sleeves that only come halfway down her forearms. She lowers her sunglasses, flashing her blue eyes your way, then approaches.

She stares, and you stare back, suddenly afraid to say anything actually revealing yourself as this pregnant woman. You feel pinned down under her intense gaze. Miranda ends up breaking the silence first.

"That's Zoe's purse, and shirt." She states. You simply nod in response. Miranda puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes. They were so large and round the effect was drastic. You can feel the weight of her exasperation fall on your shoulders. Turning her gaze back to you, she finally asks. "You're Lucas aren't you?"

Now it's your turn to open your eyes wide, but in surprise. "How'd you know?" You sit upright, both curious and hopeful.

"Don't worry about it." She states sharply. "I'm guessing if you're here, like that," She gestures flippantly towards your belly, and continues,"Zoe ran... Or the fake Zoe ran?" You nod, and Miranda seeths. "That bitch."

"You're telling me!" You stammer, as you heft yourself to your feet and gesture to your body. "L-look at me! I'm a fucking pregnant chick!"

Miranda puts a hand on your belly and pushes you back a step. "Ugh... And did she make you smell like the casting couch too?"

You recoil, suddenly aware of how gross and sweaty your body feels. You take a brief whiff of the air around you and catch a rank musky smell, both sweet and pungent. "Y-you have no clue what my morning's been like, can you just let me shower at your place, and we can talk about this?"

You can see Miranda's jaw clenching and unclenching as she considers the pregnant slut you've become. You see Miranda shift her weight from the more relaxed posture with her hip cocked out to one side, into a more upright posture, legs pressed together. With her standing like this, you suddenly realize she has curiously slender hips compared to what you remember about her. Slowly, you start to realize that she doesn't seem indignant, but flustered? Her cheeks are blooming red, and you can see her chest rise and fall more heavily.

Interrupting your thoughts, Miranda finally speaks up. "Fine." She turns and returns to the drivers seat, calling out behind her. "Get in."