Confessions of a Teenage Caffeine Addict

6 // Just Another Screw Up

We're not perfect. Any of us.

We screw up. We make mistakes.

But then we forgive. And move forward.

—Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

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JAKE

DECEMBER // WEEK 2

"Julianne Vanderbilt," a petite brunette nurse called from behind wall that was plastered with planned parenthood posters. I stood up with Jules and felt her clammy hand slip into mine as we followed the nurse down the never-ending hallway. The nurse took Jules's blood pressure, body temperature, height, weight... everything. "Alright, just have a seat here and the doctor will be with you soon," the nurse said pointed to a chair that was supposed to make someone forget their worries... or the fact that they were pregnant. Jules got up from her stool and sat on the very edge of the chair. I leaned slightly forward in my chair, closer to the nurse. Her name was Lynn. I mumbled some kind of thanks to her. If my dad was here, he would smack the back of my head, reprimanding me for poor manners. I chuckled quietly to myself, because out of all the things I could be thinking about while I was here at some clinic, I was thinking about my dad.

As soon as Lynn left our standard, crème colored, germ-proof doctor's room, Jules spoke for the first time all morning. "Everyone is judging me. Everywhere I go people are staring at me," she told me quietly, then looked down at the ground. This wasn't surprising, seeing as Jules was one of the prettiest girls I knew. People always stared at her. Girls usually gave her the death glare for stealing what little spotlight they had, or they were awestruck, wishing they could be her. Boys, on the other hand, stared for a totally different reason "I feel like everyone knows." Her last sentence came out barely louder than a 2am kiss.

"We're in a clinic, made for girls like you, who just happen to get pregnant. This place will help us," I answered her.It has to, I almost added. I got out of my chair and walked across the room to sit next to her so the whole waiting room wouldn't hear our conversation. I felt somewhat annoyed because this wasn't even the worst of it. Sure, people were staring at us. Julianne Vanderbilt's reputation was squeaky clean: Head of prom committee, field hockey captain, high honor roll... the list went on. No one would ever even consider talking about all the parties she went to, or the fact that she could be a raging bitch to her boyfriend and anyone that crossed her. Then there was me: the hockey star and Julianne Vanderbilt's prized possession of a boyfriend. Therefore, I was clean by association and put up on a shiny pedestal right next to Jules. I breathed out a sigh. "No one knows that you're pregnant. I mean, you haven't told anyone, right?" I gave her my full attention, dreading that she'd already told the entire school about her non-existent time of the month. I ran my fingers through my very messed up hair in relief when she finally shook her head no.

"I haven't even told Haley," Jules replied. Her voice cracked slightly. "I've actually been avoiding for the last two days. She thinks I'm mad at her." Jules blinked and her blue eyes looked sadder and lonelier than I'd ever seen them before.. "I need to tell her, Jake. I need to. She'll know what to do about this whole mess. She was always the calmer one out of the two of us. You know that." Jules looked up to Haley, her best friend in the whole entire world. They were attached at the hip. If Haley was failing pre-calculus, then so was Jules. Haley and me were some of the few people that saw the unrated version of Jules and knew her story... her WHOLE story.

"You can tell her," I nodded my head, knowing that it was her choice who she told. I wasn't going to stop her from that. I was determined not to be one of those crazy, psycho boyfriends. I leaned my head against hers. I only wanted to keep Jules safe, away from the glass stares and murmurs of failure she would soon be receiving once everyone found out she was pregnant. Jules huffed, crossing her arms like a five year old about to throw a tantrum. I would bet my favorite hockey stick that if Jules was standing up, she would have stomped her foot.