"We should do this every night," Jack says. Before I can respond he begins kissing me again. The two of us are snuggling together on the couch in the living room, and since my mother isn't home, we decided to make out. Jack's kisses are aggressive, but at the same time are soft. I am snuggling so close to him that I am sitting in his lap, holding his face in my hands. After several minutes we break apart to catch our breath, and Jack places a hand lightly on my abdomen.
"I love you," he breathes. I laugh.
"You love me or the baby?" I ask.
"I love both of you," he replies.
"This conversation is so cheesy," I say. Jack throws his head back and laughs.
"But it's true!" he says. "And what kind of word is 'cheesy'? Only adults say that."
"I am an adult," I say, chuckling. "I'm eighteen."
Jack pulls me closer to him and rests his chin on my head.
"Why did you stand up for me?" I ask.
"Hm?" Jack replies.
"This morning, at school," I say, "Why did you stand up for me? You never would have done that in any other circumstances."
"These aren't any other circumstances," Jack says. "I promised I'd protect you, that I'd help you hide this. I wasn't about to let Roger break that promise."
I move away from him and look into his eyes. I love his eyes. A light-blue color, they always seem to shine, whether in the light or the dark. I've always found them beautiful, and sometimes I'd catch myself staring into them while looking at his face. I reach up and touch his cheek, then pull his face closer to mine and kiss him again.
At the sound of the front door opening we both freeze, pulling away.
"My mum," I mutter. I scramble away from Jack to the other end of the couch and grab a throw pillow off the floor. I huddle in the corner of the couch, holding the throw pillow tight against my body. Jack turns on the television, then sits down on the opposite end of the couch just as my mother walks into the living room.
"Hey, Mum," I say casually, giving a small wave. My mother smiles and asks me how school was.
"It was fine," I answer, looking back at the television, which is playing a cooking show.
"Hello Jack!" my mother calls.
"Hey!" Jack calls back, looking over his shoulder and waving.
"Don't you both have schoolwork to do?" my mother asks. Jack makes a "pfft" sound, then says,
"I rarely do homework. They don't check it anyway so what's the point?"
"You're not making yourself sound very responsible," I say. Jack laughs, and when my mother goes upstairs, he turns to me and says,
"If she thinks that's not responsible, she's going to get a huge slap in the face when she finds out what happened."
"Yeah," I say nervously, looking away.
"Come on," Jack says, "I was just trying to make a joke."
"Ha ha ha," I say. The tone in my voice causes the two of us to start laughing, and we're still laughing when my mother walks into the living room.
"What's so funny?" she asks. Jack's and my laughter fades, and I answer my mother with a simple "Nothing."
"What do you want for dinner?" my mother asks. I shrug.
"I don't know," I say.
"I was thinking about going out to eat," my mother says. I'm not really in the mood, but I agree anyway.
"Would you like to join us, Jack?" my mother asks.
"I don't know," he replies. "I mean I'd love to, but I don't know what my mother will think."
"Don't worry about your mother, dear," my mother says. "I can always convince her to let you come with us."
"Thank you," Jack says. "I really would love to join you for dinner. I'm sure Ralph would love for me to join as well."
I throw the pillow at him and he catches it and throws it back.
"Let me just get ready and we can go, okay?" my mother says. Jack and I agree, and when my mother leaves again Jack moves closer to me.
"When are you going to tell her?" he whispers.
"I don't know," I reply. "I don't really want to. I don't know how she'll respond. She might not let you see me again."
"Don't worry about that," Jack says. "I'll still find a way."
"I know you will," I say. "You'll always find a way. That's your specialty."
"And that's why you love me," Jack says, kissing me lightly before getting off the couch and walking away. I sigh and push myself up, then begin making my way upstairs. I go to my room and search my closet for better clothes. I want to avoid wearing Jack's sweatshirt if we are going out, but as my search gets deeper, I realize that I might have to. I don't have any clothes that are loose enough to conceal the now obvious pregnancy. I look down at myself, decide that Jack's sweatshirt would be good enough, then close the closet door. I stand in front of the mirror and turn sideways, satisfied to find that nothing is visible.
"Almost ready?"
I jump at the sound of my mother's voice and turn to see her standing in the doorway. I tell her that I am ready, silently hoping she didn't see me inspecting myself in the mirror.
Jack and I sit in the backseat of the car on the way to dinner. I am sitting close to him and holding his hand, my other hand slipped into one of the sweatshirt pockets and stretching it away from my body. I squeeze Jack's hand and he looks at me.
"What if she finds out?" I whisper. Jack looks at my mother, then looks back at me.
"She won't," he whispers back. "If it was my mother on the other hand we might have a problem."
I try to hold back snickers as Jack looks away, smiling.
"Imagine what it would be like if it was you and not me," I whisper, sure to make my voice as quiet as I can while making sure he can still hear it.
"Believe me," Jack whispers, looking back at me, "If it was me my mother would have known long before this. She probably would have known before I did."
"Or your father would," I whisper. Jack chuckles softly.
"What are you boys whispering about?" my mother asks.
"Just talking about my parents," Jack says. "How my mother is extremely observant, and how she's always wanted me to be the most proper boy in the whole school."
"Is that what she was doing?" I ask, laughing. "I thought she was just a perfectionist."
"Oh, she is," Jack says, "Just with people, instead of objects."
My mother and I burst out laughing, and Jack just smirks. He always knows exactly what to say to avoid dangerous situations -- ones that would get him in trouble. Now he's using it to help me.
"Are we almost there?" Jack asks. "I'm starving."
"You're starving!" I say. "You wouldn't know 'starving' if it hit you in the face."
"Hungry?" Jack asks. On cue, my stomach growls an I begin craving crisps. Jack laughs.
"I'd call that a yes," he says.
"Well you should know better than anyone that I'd be starving by now," I say. Jack laughs again, but my mother doesn't.
"Is that a joke between you two that I don't understand?" she asks. My heart stops for a second and Jack flushes. Thankfully, he quickly forms a cover-up.
"He...wasn't hungry during lunch so he didn't eat anything," he lies. "It's pretty obvious that he'd be hungry now."
"Ah, I see," my mother says, nodding her head in understanding. "Well, make sure you eat some lunch from now on, okay?" I roll my eyes, chuckling.
"Mum, you don't have to keep worrying about me," I say. "I'll be fine."
"You know I can't help worrying about you," my mother says, smiling. "It's what I do best."
"Of course," I say.
I stop listening to the conversation after that, nodding every now and then but otherwise ignoring it. I get lost in my own head, thinking about how close I came to exposing myself. I thank God that Jack could come up with a lie as quickly as he did.
"We're here," I hear my mother say. I feel Jack undoing his seatbelt and do the same. Jack gets out of the car first and holds the door opened for me, helping me climb out of the car. When I'm out of the car, he kisses me, then closes the door, takes my hand, and laces his fingers between mine.
"You can sit next to me," he says as we start walking to the diner we had chosen to eat at. I nod, but say nothing. When we get inside, Jack immediately asks for a booth and, surprisingly, my mother doesn't object or question it. When we get to our seat Jack quickly sits down, pulling me into the seat with him, and my mother sits across from us. When the waiter leaves, she says,
"You seem really eager to sit next to him."
Jack and I chuckle, and Jack says,
"Well, you know. I can't keep him away from me."
"Shut up!" I say, pushing Jack lightly. He only laughs again, putting an arm around my shoulders.
"I don't think I've ever seen you two this close," my mother says.
There was never any need for us to be this close, I think, but I keep my mouth shut.
"How is school going, Jack?" my mother asks.
As they begin conversing, I let my mind wander. What will we do if the baby lives? What if I don't survive, but the baby does? What will Jack do?
"Ralph!"
My mother's voice pulls me out of my daydream and I look around shocked. When I see the waiter standing by our table I jump, then I remember where we are and apologize.
"What would you like to drink?" the waiter asks.
"Just water," I reply, looking down. The waiter asks Jack the same question and he gives the same answer. So does my mother. When the waiter leaves, Jack picks up a menu and starts rifling through it. I pick up a menu off the table and start looking through it as well.
The multitude of dishes on the menu makes my stomach growl again. I force myself to choose one item off the menu and order it when the waiter returns. I had been sure to choose a dish that wouldn't be too large, and I have to fight the urge to order something else. As the waiter walks away I take a sip of water.
"You seem to be feeling better now, Ralph," my mother says.
"Hm?" I say, confused for a second. Even before my mother asks again, though, the answer suddenly comes to me.
"Don't you remember, the...stomach thing you had?" my mother asks. "It seems to be better now, don't you think?"
"Oh, yeah," I say. "Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better. Must've just been a, uh, illness of some sort."
"Kind of an interesting illness, wouldn't you say?" my mother says.
"Yeah, well, there's a lot of weird stuff happening these days." I feel Jack kick me in the shin and hold back a yelp.
"Ah, yes," my mother says, folding her hands on the table and looking down at them. "I'm sure you've heard about the...the pregnancy thing...with the men."
"Yeah," I say, choosing my words carefully as I continue, "It's all over the news, how could I not."
"You boys better be careful," my mother says, looking back up at us, her hands fidgeting on the table. "Don't try anything...we'll say 'dangerous'...from now on. I would hate for one of you to go through something like that."
"Oh, don't worry," Jack says, as calm as ever, "We know the dangers and we're not about to test them."
"That's good," my mother says, a smile beginning to form. "It's good to know you boys are being responsible. It'd be a shame if one of you got pregnant. You have so much to live for."
Worry and guilt begin to take me over, and I can't stand to continue the conversation. I sigh.
"You know what?" I say, "I need to go to the toilet." I look at Jack and ask, "Do you have to go, too?"
"I guess I could go," Jack replies. The two of us get out of the booth and I say, "We won't be long," before we turn around and begin making our way to the restroom.
When we get into the restroom, I lean against the wall by the door and groan, putting my head in my hands, fighting the urge to weep. Jack sighs and leans against the wall next to me.
"I guess you're not going to tell her now, are you?" he asks. I sigh and raise my head, leaning it back until it touches the wall.
"Oh, God!" I groan. "Oh God oh God oh God!" I cover my face, then lower my head. I clench my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut, but tears still escape. I lift my head up and look at Jack.
"We made a huge mistake," I say, silent tears beginning to fall. "We can't get ourselves out of this one. If I tell my mum, she'd never forgive me. She'd never forgive you. First, my father died and now I'm going to die. The news would destroy her."
I look down, but Jack puts a hand on my cheek and turns my head to look at him. He wipes the tears off my cheeks with his thumbs as he says,
"Ralph, your father died four years ago. She has to be over it by now."
"She loved my father," I say, turning my head away from him. "She can't possibly be 'over it', no matter how many years it's been. And because I'm her only son, I'm practically all she has left. She can't afford to lose me too--"
"Hey," Jack says, once again turning my head back to him. "It's okay. It's going to be okay. Your mother has other friends, other people to help her, she'll be okay. You just need to worry about now."
"We won't be able to hide it for much longer, you know that," I say, my voice shaking and the tears becoming more continuous. "Not with school and our daily lives. Someone will find out eventually, and then what?"
Jack puts his hands on my shoulders and turns my entire body as I continue,
"What will we do when someone finds out? Huh? We won't always be able to hide it with clothes, it'll get too big, it'll be too obvious. Someone will find out eventually, and--"
Jack interrupts me with a single kiss on the lips, which lingers for a few seconds before he pulls away.
"I'm not about to break my promise," he says, his thumbs once again wiping away tears, "And yes, I still remember that promise. Just...stop worrying about it, okay? You need to take care of yourself now, and worrying doesn't do you any good. Okay?"
I nod slowly, and Jack pulls me closer to him. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his shoulder. He holds me until my tears have dried, and when I'm feeling better I push away from him and splash water on my face.
We leave the restroom hand in hand, and as we approach the table, Jack kisses me lightly on the cheek, unheeding the people around us.
We finish that dinner without further conversation, and my mother drops Jack off at his house before heading back home. I had walked with Jack to his front door, and before I left I had told him I was sorry for that morning. He had forgiven me, and as my mother and I drive home I know I'll never forget the last thing he had said to me:
"I will never have the slightest doubt that you love me. You'll always be mine, for as long as you live."
I can only hope that "as long as I live" is a long time