Pretending to be Pregnant

Three

I opened my eyes, the next morning, only to be greeted by a dark room. For a moment, I was oblivious to my thoughts of yesterday. And then I remembered. With a jolt, I instantly sat up, pushing my messy bed hair out of my eyes. Yawning, I glanced at my clock. I was up early, extremely early, however I had no chance of falling into a dreamless sleep once more. Sighing, I climbed out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, turning on the shower and stripping.

The scalding hot water was soothing, as I stood there, taking deep breaths and combing through the tangles in my long locks of hair. I applied the glorious smelling shampoo before ensuring that it had been completely washed out. Then, I applied my conditioner and washed myself down with the expensive body wash which lay in the corner of the large shower. As I washed myself, I reviewed my stomach. It was slim, very slim and in order to make sure that my lie was effective I would have to buy one of those pretend bump things. Hopefully, I would be able to actually get pregnant before I resorted to that though.

What if you don't get pregnant?

The question surrounded me, choking me and starving me of air. Cautiously, I sat down, my bare back against the shower glass. I couldn't let that happen. After sitting there for a while, the water a constant stream above me, I stood up and turned the water off. My hair was wet and formed light curls which hung down my back gracefully. Today, I decided I would leave it like that. The curls, after all, were really quite attractive. Maybe they'd make Ryan want me more and I wouldn't have to go through with the lie.

I wandered through my bedroom and approached the massive dressing room. I was wrapped in a deep purple towel. Today, I decided on a simple, pale blue, floaty dress that hung along my body perfectly. The dress reached just below my knee. Of course it did. My mother always tutted at those girls who wore their dresses just below their bums and I had a similar opinion. I believed that the less flesh on show, the more people wondered what was underneath and therefore the more attractive you were.

Over my dress I pulled a deep red cardigan and on my feet I wore autumn wedge shoes. I made my way downstairs.

"Hi love. Oh, you look nice." My mum greeted me.

"Thank you." I said sitting at the table, where there was a plate piled with savory pancakes. "This looks good." I told my mum, arranging my dress across my knees. My mum sat down opposite me, her beautiful Mexican features arranged in an expression of worry.

"Esmeralda, are you okay?" She asked. Uh-oh, she'd used my full name, this was bad. I nodded, my mouth full of pancake. "It's just, well, you've seemed off recently. Like last night, you barely talked to your father and I. And then you went to bed really early." I looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes.

"Uh, I just, I had a bad day yesterday." I told her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked, furrowing her thick Mexican eyebrows. I shook my head hastily.

"I'm sure everything will be okay." She nodded.

"Well, if you ever need anything, I'm here." She told me smiling. I smiled back at her. "Oh, by the way, I've booked you in to have your eyebrows waxed." She told me. I nodded.

"Thanks." Being half Mexican meant that I had naturally thick, dark hair. My eyebrows were no exception. They grew at an incredible rate.

My mum was born and raised in Mexico. Her family had always been poor and she had grown up with five other brothers and sisters; the majority who still lived in Mexico. My father had always come from a rich, well off, background. He was English and had travelled to America to expand his world famous business. They had both met out of chance. My mother a beautiful Mexican with straight, thick, dark, hair. My father, with blond curly hair and caramel tanned skin from the American skin. After meeting, they soon married and my father quickly earned millions. They never left America. Only once have I ever been to Mexico and can speak fluent Spanish. Many times I have visited England. And now I live in America, but my accent is still strangely distorted.

"Are you driving or walking to school today?" My mother asked as I sipped my coffee. I thought about this for a moment. If I walked, it would give me a good excuse for Ryan to give me a lift home. Then again, he might have football practise and considering my plans, I hardly needed the exercise.

"I think I'll walk." I said quickly making up my mind. After all, it was a chilly, but beautiful, autumn morning and soon I wouldn't be able to walk to school because of the weather. My mum nodded and took away the empty plate that was on the table in front of me.

"Better get going then!" She told me, glancing briefly at the clock. I grabbed my jacket; still the summer jacket, and rushed out of the door after giving my mother a quick hug and kiss goodbye.

As I walked along the pavements, clutching my jacket around me, I noticed a familiar car drive by.

"Es!" A voice shouted after winding down the window. I knew who it was before I looked. Nobody else called me 'Es'.

"Ryan." I greeted him, plastering a smile hastily across my face.

"Can I give you a lift?" He asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside mine. I shrugged. "Please, I need to talk to you." After that sentence, I had to stop myself from bursting into spontaneous tears.

"Okay." I whispered, my voice almost inaudible. I climbed into the car, making sure that my dress flowed gracefully across my knees. Once I had fastened my seat belt, Ryan drove off. "So erm, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked Ryan, fiddling with the hem of my dress.

"Well, I don't really know how to put this Es. I mean, we've been together for over two years now. How do I say this." I hastily wiped a tear from my cheek, hoping that he hadn't seen. I couldn't take it. I knew, that, if he broke up with me, I would just break apart. That's when, I uttered those formidable words from my lips.

"Ryan. I'm pregnant."

Ryan instantly braked. Shocking the few drivers behind him. For a moment, we sat there in silence and I wondered if he was still going to leave me.