Skinny • Book 1 In The Reality Series

Calum

The small crowded waiting room smelled strongly of disinfectant and the candy apple room spray the bored looking woman sat behind the front desk repeatedly kept spraying. Apart from a baby crying the room was quiet, no one spoke, everyone was too busy listening to the crusaders delivering God's word in the form of graphic pictures and shouted insults outside.

Bethany had been called a slut on the way in, a whore, a selfish bitch and according to a stout woman with a picture of a dead baby on her t-shirt, would "burn in hell for eternity for her unthinkable sin."

Sniffing every so often and repeatedly rubbing her eyes with her fists, she sat hunched over filling out the clipboard resting on her lap.

Chewing my lower lip I let my eyes wander around the room, taking in the three teen couples, one lone teenage girl, the woman with bruised and needle scarred arms sleeping in the corner, and the middle aged couple who were crying quietly on Bethany's other side.

My attention only returned to Bethany when she let out a small smile and rising to her feet returned the clipboard to the front desk then sat back down beside me.

"Do you think I'm making a mistake?" she whispered.

Glancing down at her I shrugged.

My entire life I'd been raised to believe that if I had sex and got someone pregnant my consequence was to deal with it like a man and raise the baby. But I also got it. I got that the people sat around me were smart enough to realize that they were not ready or able to be parents.

I'd wondered at first why Bethany wouldn't just give the thing up for adoption, but after sitting in the waiting room for an hour and a half, looking an inspirational abortion posters that the fear of having the child and wanting it was a real one so nipping it in the bud before any attachment could blossom seemed to be a popular positive.

It wasn't out of malice that these girls and women were removing what, if left, could have been the next Einstein, it was out of the simple human characteristic, self-preservation.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" Bethany asked quietly.

"I don't know." I admitted, "You're a brat, but no, I don't think you're going to be dammed hell if that's what you're wondering."

Closing her eyes, Bethany rested her head on the wall behind her.

"Am I making a mistake?" she mumbled.

Again I shrugged, "I don't know."

"What would you do?" she pressed, "If you were in my position."

"Call TLC and make bank on my documentary, .The Pregnant Man'."

"No, if you were a girl. Would you do it?"

"Get rid of it?"

She nodded.

Looking down at my hands which were folded in my lap I imagined my stomach, extended, covered in stretch marks, fat. I thought about making it that far only to have the baby die because I was a fuck up and couldn't eat enough. I thought about dropping out of school to raise a kid, without money, without a place to live, without a partner to help me through it.

"I don't know." I muttered.

Sighing she sat forward, burying her head in her hands.

"Do you want to do it?" I questioned.

"No I don't want to do it!" She snapped, "I'd love to have my own tiny person who would need me and love me and I would love them but I can't."

Not sure what to say I nodded.

"Do you think it hurts?" She demanded.

"I'm sure they drug you." I offered.

"I'm sure I'll still feel it." She mumbled almost to herself, "Do you think it'll hurt?"

"Like a bitch." A girl on my other side muttered.

Looking like she was going to be sick Bethany looked down.

"It'll be okay." I offered lamely.

"Bethany?"

Startled, the two of us looked up to find a rather rotund woman wearing Tweety bird scrubs.

"Bethany?" She repeated when she didn't answer.

Locking eyes with her I nodded in Bethany's direction.

"We're ready for you." The woman said kindly, "Are you ready?"

Slowly, Bethany rose to her feet. Her forehead beaded with sweat she ran her trembling fingertips through her hand nervously.

"I'll be right here." I said gently, taking pity on her, "The whole time."

Looking to be on the verge of passing out she took a small hesitant step forward.

"Honey I don't have all day I have a lot of other people scheduled," the woman said, checking her watch, "Let's just get it over with yeah?"

"Go ahead." I coaxed.

"I can't." She whispered, turning to face me, her face as white the North Face jacket she wore, "I can't do it. I changed my mind. Let's just go... Please. Calum I need to go."

My heart twisting as she broke down in hysterics I kept to my feet and wrapping an arm around her waste began steering her towards the door.

"We can't get you in again today." The woman behind the desk warned, "This was our only opening."

"I don't care!" Bethany sobbed, "I want to go!"

Shooting the woman an apologetic smile, I led Bethany through the doors of the clinic.

"Murderer!" Someone screamed as soon as we made it out onto the front steps.

"Slut!"

"Hell bound bitch!"

Placing my hands on my ears, worried about the terrifying gasps leaving her throat I steered her through the hoard of protesters to my car.
Opening the passenger side door I helped her in closing the door behind her before jogging in and getting in myself.

Wordlessly I turned the car on and cranked up the radio, blocking them out.

"I'm sorry Calum." She choked out, "I'm so sorry I'm an idiot I wasted your time! You must hate me even more the..."

"It's okay." I interrupted, "you're okay, we're okay, it's okay."

Putting the car in reverse I pulled out of the parking lot and started towards my house, a squeak of confusion leaving Bethany's mouth as we passed the school.

"Where are you taking me?" She sniffed, rubbing her eyes.

"My house." I answered, pulling into my neighborhood.

"Why?" She demanded.

"You're staying there." I replied pulling into the driveway.

Stunned, she watched as I stopped the car and opened her door for her.

"Come on." I muttered.

"Calum I can't stay here." She said slowly.

"Why?" I signed, leaning on the door.

"You hate me!" She cried, "and rightfully so I've treated you like shit! You should be happy I'm miserable."

"Bethany just get out." I replied.

Slowly, she unbuckled her seatbelt, "You're a better person then me."

"You're a good person." I muttered, helping her out of the car, "I just don't think you want anyone to know it."