CHAPTER TWENTY!
THE COLD EXITMUSIC
NAUSEA TORE THROUGH my dreams. Before I could even fully awake, I was darting to the bathroom, only just making it before vomit exploded from my mouth and into the toilet.
After letting most of it out, I slumped to the floor, weakened by the sickness. Wonderful, I thought. Just before the first week of school, I have to go and catch a virus. Groaning, I folded my arms over the toilet seat, not caring how unsanitary it was, and rested my head in my arms. Already I was trembling all over.
Minutes later, Luke pushed his way into the bathroom, confusion written on his face. Only three days had passed since he had successfully proposed to Elizabeth, but the joy had yet to release him; his face was always bright, eyes always wide and smiling. Now that light dulled when he spotted me on the floor.
"Are you okay?"
I opened one eye. "Just threw my guts up, but I've been worse."
"I'll go get you some medicine," he said. Luke started to walk out of the bathroom, and then froze. "Does this mean you're not going to church?"
"I want to," I sighed, "but I'd rather not, just for today."
"Okay." Luke flashed a small, apologetic sort of smile. "Be right back—and I hope you feel better."
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LUKE'S wishes did not cause any real change; the vomiting was short-lived, but the nausea was ever-present. It had taken only a moment of sitting in front of the toilet after my family had gone for church before I came to a huge realization.
Now, it was merely a waiting game. I sat on the edge of my bed, knees folded against my chest, heart hammering a tattoo of anxiety. Of pure suspense. Fear. A minute had passed, according to the clock, but it felt like an hour. Another minute, and another. Enough time had passed, but I waited another three, just in case. And then another five, for lack of will.
Eventually, I unclenched my fists, stretched out my stiff fingers, and forced myself to step to the ground. The carpeted floor felt like jagged rock beneath my feet—not literally, of course, but as a result of sheer opposition. To go back into the bathroom, and look.
Hours seemed to pass—hours that were actually seconds—before I reached the bathroom. Before my fingers curled around the cool doorknob, twisted—
I caught my breath. Could not move another inch. The white stick rested still atop the sink's counter, bearing news, one way or the other. I had rummaged around and found it beneath the main bathroom's sink, where my mother must have stored them. There were several, and two extras remained in unopened boxes.
These things weren't completely accurate. This particular thought sparked a tiny flame of hope, one that pushed me forward. Still, my fists were clenched and pressed against my stomach. I'd changed into one of Benny's oversized T-shirts before going to bed, and the loose fabric brushed softly against my thighs, bringing a slight sense of comfort.
Once I was close enough to catch a glimpse, I stopped dead in my tracks. Even from here, the two blue lines were livid, practically glowing. I remembered seeing Mom's pregnancy tests from when she'd been pregnant with Tessa, and only one had lines this dark.
After a few moments, I was able to catch my breath, but only after bracing myself against the edge of the counter. Okay, I thought. Still not 100% accurate. Let's try another one.
Peeing again required downing a whole bottle of water and waiting. It still took a short but agonizing amount of time for the urge to hit. Another test. Another wait.
To my horror, the pregnancy test showed up positive once again. So did the third. In each, the lines were dark and unmistakeable. There was a horrible tugging sensation in the deepest pit of my stomach. Faintly I wondered if I would vomit again, but eventually, I just slid to the floor, back against the sink, and cried and cried and cried, because I was so terrified and so young and so clueless.
Crying only brought on more exhaustion, and before I knew it, I'd cried myself to sleep on the floor.
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LUKE, again, was the one to find me, this time splayed across the fluffy rug, curled into a fetal position. He instantly dropped to his knees, stricken with a flash of panic, and reached to haul me up, waking me rather violently.
"Kayla?" Luke's voice was edged with the same panic. "Kayla—"
"I'm awake," I rasped, throwing an arm over my eyes. There was still a vile emptiness in my stomach, but for a moment, I was blessed with ignorance. Forgetfulness. And then I recalled, and I could no longer breathe.
"What are you doing on the floor?" Luke breathed. "Are you still sick?"
"No."
Luke paused, sighed, and slid his hands beneath my arms. "Come on," he said, voice soft, "up you go."
Without any effort or struggle, Luke helped me to my feet—mostly with his own strength, for I was too weak.
"I see the medicine didn't work," Luke murmured, leading me out of the bathroom. The further we traveled, the more concerned he grew, sensing fragility. "You must be much sicker than I thought. You might need to go to the ER."
Luke's voice was blurry, wavering. Despite the "rest" I had managed to catch on the floor, there was a certain darkness around my vision, threatening to close in at any moment. There was no diverting my thoughts, which only made matters worse—no blinking and seeing any other image, nothing other than the three positive pregnancy tests.
How was it possible? Benny and I were as careful as we could be. The only time we had ever not used protection was the first time—when it had been completely unexpected. But, now that I allowed myself to consider such possibilities...I realized that I hadn't had my period since June. Sometimes my schedule was not flawless, but this...this was much too long a wait.
Luke helped me to the bed, easing me onto it as gently as possible, like I was made of fragile crystal. I didn't know about the crystal part, but now I did feel as though the softest of blows would shatter me. As though my body would fall to ash, and everything inside of me, blood and black tangible helplessness, would spill across the floor.
Helpless and lost—those terms could not even add up to how I felt. More accurately, I could almost believe that the ground had opened up at my feet and I was falling, falling to the earth's core and burning up and covered in ice. Falling below the world itself, floating into space, terrified, and being sucked toward a black hole. It was all a bit dramatic, but in my terror, I could not care.
There would be consequences. Sixteen and pregnant may have been popular on television, but I would have to deal with the truth. Would have to face my parents' disappointment and who knows what else. Would have to grow and face one of my deepest fears: Giving birth. Not only that, but I would have to struggle afterward, always worrying if I was doing the right right, always terrified of something bad happening.
And what about Benny? He was sixteen too, had a major goal ahead of him— Would he leave, afraid of the responsibility? Surely not, but at this point, when he was still finding himself, I wondered...
But it couldn't be the end of the world. Even as Luke disappeared downstairs to fetch more medicine, leaving me alone to my dark thoughts, I knew that this could not be all bad. Maybe Mom would be willing to help me, so that I could still make something of myself; maybe Dad would, after some time, be softened to the idea of being a grandfather. There was no doubt that Kenny and Bertram, Leah and Ivy would support me, would love my child—
My child. The words, even as thoughts, sent a shock through me, stiffened my limbs. My eyes flew open. My child. As if I hadn't been nonstop thinking about the matter ever since I found out, the words were a blow, because up until now I hadn't truly thought of it that way. That this living thing inside of me was ultimately mine.
And despite the pain, despite the fear of having a ruined future, I was overcome with a rushing wave of love and affection.
In the time that Luke had disappeared, I had managed to pull myself together, enough, at least, to go back into the bathroom. To retrieve the pregnancy tests from the trash can, where I had shoved them in a fit of panic, as if it could erase the facts. Each stick read pregnant—two deep blue lines, prominent and menacing.
When Luke returned, holding a bottle of pills and a glass of water, he stopped a couple of feet away from the bed. He found me standing the same distance on the other end, back facing the bathroom. I could feel the downturn of my features, probably a mixture of terrible sadness and fear, but crossed my arms in as confident a gesture as I could manage.
Luke frowned, cocking his head slightly. "You're starting to freak me out. One minute you're catatonic, and the next—"
He caught the flicker of my eyes, as I had halfway intended (and halfway feared). Luke's voice bit off, and he glanced down at my bed—and went completely rigid. There, atop the blue covers, lay three positive pregnancy tests. For a few tense moments, Luke was absolutely silent. Then:
"That's a joke, right?"
Rather than giving a real response, I tightened my fingers around my arms and dropped my gaze to the floor.
"'Cause it's not a funny one," Luke grumbled. "Here—take this medicine."
He moved around the bed, carefully keeping his eyes away from the tests, to approach me with the glass and the pill bottle. Once he had reached the foot of the bed, however, I flashed him my palm: Stop. Luke did stop, surprisingly—and the set of his jaw was growing tighter by the minute. What he had deemed a joke clearly bothered him, even if he thought it untrue.
"It's not a joke," I said—or tried to say, but I only produced a murmur, too low for even myself to hear.
Luke took a step closer. "What?"
Closing my eyes, I inhaled, deeply, and let it out too sharply. Eyes flying open and blazing, I repeated, in a much stronger voice, I said, "It isn't a joke. The tests..."
The boy looked uncomfortable, but not as if he believed me. Not really. "Okay, Kayla," he said, in a tone that suggested he did not believe me but did not want to argue. "Now take these—"
"Luke—" My voice was extremely sharp, but I wasn't angry. A bit frustrated, and definitely broken down, but not quite angry...yet. Before I spoke, I softened myself as much as possible. "Luke, I'm pregnant."
"What, are you supposed to be the next Virgin Mary?"
Now that I was spilling this to Luke, it could not really hurt to tell the truth; the truth would need to be told to convince him I was pregnant. "I'm not a virgin anymore," I insisted, voice too light, but Luke seemed to hear me. "July eighth, when I left with Benny to go to the mountains...it was that night."
Luke's mouth tightened into a thin line. He stared at me but said nothing, clearly trying to contain himself.
"I'm not lying to you, Luke. I just need someone, and you're the only one I feel like I can tell this to right now." Now my tone was pleading—until the tears returned, choking me up on the next few words. "I need you."
Suddenly, Luke swept toward my bedside table; with shaking hands he set the trembling glass of water and the pill bottle down. Then he fell to sit on the bed, staring at the water, as if it had shattered and somehow pulled itself back together, all on its own.
"You're serious," he said, voice dead.
"I could take another test and show you."
He shook his head, and his brows pulled together. "I believe you, but...I don't know what to do."
What was meant to be an intake of breath turned into a sob. "Neither do I."
So Luke did what he was best at: He looked up, reached out and circled his hands around my elbows, and pulled me into him. Once again the realization seemed to hit, and when he wrapped me in his warm, familiar embrace, I burst into tears. And so did he.
The crying continued for an undefinable amount of time, but eventually Luke pushed me up, got a good look at my face, and said, "I'll be there with you, through it all. I'll take you to the doctor, and I'll keep it to myself for as long as possible. But after this...you have to become a nun."
Despite myself, my situation, I laughed. But something else was bugging me. I slid off of Luke's lap, to sit beside him instead. Instinct pushed me to lean against his shoulder, and twine both of my arms around one of his. He still smelled like cologne and sweet summer air and Luke—but something was different now. Or maybe it was just me who was different.
"I don't think I can tell Benny," I whispered.
"What?" Luke twisted to look down at the top of my head. "Why not? I think he has as much of a right to know as you do."
"It's just that...I'm afraid it'll scare him off," I breathed, almost feeling it in my heart, the truth to the fear. "We're sixteen. Usually, teenage couples with a baby don't stay together—I'm pretty sure, at least. And he's got his whole life ahead of him."
Luke raised a hand to brush through my hair. "So do you. And it doesn't matter. Doing this...this...it's doable. And it will be done, from both sides. I truly don't think he would leave you for it, but if he does, I'll beat his ass, over and over again. And so will Liz."
This time, I couldn't laugh, not even if I tried. Not even if I wanted to.
"I can't face him," I whispered, so low I hardly heard myself. "I can't be around him and act normal, knowing what I know. What do I do, Luke?"
Luke shrugged, lightly. "Take that weight off your shoulders. You can't avoid him, so you might as well tell him. Get it over with. He'll know sooner or later."
A shudder ran through my bones. Several possible scenarios ran through my mind in an instant, and most were not pleasant. Hardly any of my thoughts were any different. But it couldn't be all bad; I knew that. Knew that, even if I did not yet realize it, I would someday get through this and never regret it.
"Just not now—"
As if on cue or some strike of irony, a knock sounded at the door. Benny's voice, so soft and familiar, called, "Kayla?"
"Go," Luke whispered, pushing me, but he wasn't pushing me toward the door. He was urging me toward the bathroom, after picking up the tests—and seeming to think better of it—and dropping them into my hands. "I'll take care of it."
Only a few steps were needed to enter the bathroom, but my heart was pounding as if I had participated in a race. I closed the door as gently as possible, so that there was no click, and rushed to turn on the shower. I didn't want to hide from Benny, but it had been Luke's fault, so at least now I would have an actual excuse as to why I couldn't go to him now.
I'd already begun stripping when I heard Luke's voice: "She's really sick. She's cleaning up right now, but you should probably let her be for a little while."
"What? That doesn't even make any sense," Benny said, a slight and almost undetectable edge of anger in his voice. "I always take care of her when she's sick."
"Not this time, all right?"
Even behind the closed door, I could almost see Benny's eyes, staring at the bathroom door. I hoped he couldn't see me through it, like I felt that I could with him.
The boys' voices lowered and faded. I released a sigh of utter defeat and guilt, and pulled off the rest of my clothes. Before getting into the shower, I hid the tests in a nearly empty tissue box.
The burning water raced down the skin of my face, substituting for the tears I no longer had the strength to produce.
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OKAY! CRUSH TIME!
so i had/have a crush, who is my cousin's best friend. i was in love (strong infatuation) with him, ugh, but then my cousin found out and started teasing me ab it, so i pushed away my feelings. i don't feel as strongly for him now, but it's still there, every time i see him.
so i just took my ACTs on tuesday, and my sorta-crush (i'll call him blondie) got put in the same testing room as me. i don't know how, but i swear, EVERY TIME we have a class together, we are always near each other. every single time. so, needless to say, blondie ended up sitting directly behind me.
i was talking to my friend after the tests were over, and basically i was talking ab how i thought i'd done on the tests, and i could tell when her focus starting wavering. her eyes kept flickering behind me, and when i finished, she covered her mouth to tell me that blondie kept constantly looking up from his phone to stare at me when i was talking. and that's not even the first time a friend has noticed and told me that he was staring at me, LOL. hoe needs to make a move. i'm not as mean as i look.
okay, that was unnecessarily long - i could have just said that my friend told me my crush was staring at me. it's the writer in me, ya know?
oh, and...this chapter...is kinda wild.
stay gold
x kayla
03.22.18