I know not a lot of you want this, but I need something to distract me right now and I just finished my other book. So read it if you want.
They are both 17 in high school.
And don't worry I don't like writing with kids in it so the kid won't come till the very very end.
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Billie blew out an anxious breath, pacing back and forth across her room's floor, trying to quiet her frantic heartbeat. She plowed through pile after pile of disregarded clothing-clean or dirty, she couldn't make the distinction anymore-scraps of old and new song lyrics, and of course, textbooks she'd never bothered to open since the first day of classes quite a while back.
In her lack of attention, she stepped right onto an open tube of paint from when she had attempted, and failed to paint for her art class-she loved drawing, hated painting-. Alarmed at the wetness sliding beneath her shoe, she snapped out of her worried trance and stared down at her feet. The blue paint had seeped out and stained her carpet.
"Shit..."
She snatched up an old t-shirt and stooped, absentmindedly rubbing at the stain. But even doing so, she could not keep any kind of focus whatsoever. Her thoughts were only on the device sitting innocuously on her desk. Billie stared at the silver clock.
Three minutes to go...
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"Did you eat something bad, Billie?" Drew ran her hands up and down Billie's back, holding her hair back as her friend upchucked everything she had eaten that morning.
Billie wiped her mouth and panted heavily, trying to regain her breath, "Not that I know of...I feel like shit." She groaned and pressed her cheek against the cool porcelain of the toilet.
"I know that you're kind of out of it, but this bathroom has got to be full of nasty germs and you're kinda putting your face all over them and that's pretty gross." Drew shuddered in disgust at the thought of some dried, crusty shit touching her friends face. Especially in this dank bathroom with floors sticky with unidentified excrement. Drew tried to ignore how being on said floor made her skin feel like it was crawling.
"Shut up Drew" Billie groaned.
She rubbed Billie's back, "Aw Billie...If it wasn't bad food, then what could it be?"
"I don't know..."
"Maybe it's some sort of PMS? Don't you throw up when your cramps get bad?"
"No...Besides, I'd have to have my period for me to have PMS and..."
Billie tapered off in shock. A single image flashed through her mind. A provocative image. Male hands gripping her thighs hard enough to bruise. Her nails raking down his back. Tangled sheets and intertwined limbs.
"Shit..." she breathed out, her voice haggard and strangled.
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There was no way to save the carpet. Her haphazard rubbing had caused the paint to further cling to the fibers of the carpet. If she wanted to get the stain out, she'd have to do a thorough clean up. She tossed the raggedy shirt aside and stood up, sighing heavily.
Cleaning was the last thing on her mind right now.
She started pacing once again, chewing on her thumbnail anxiously, hoping that maybe this one time, her intuition would be incredibly wrong and that she'd be able to go to school with a clear head and heart.
Billie adamantly refused to look at the box sitting innocently on her desk, mocking her in its own way. An elated grown woman holding an ecstatic baby, overjoyed. And here Billie was, seventeen, and about to find out just how fucked up her life was about to become.
Nerves riding her hand, she spun around and checked the clock once again.
The clock hand had only moved one pathetic minute.
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Drew blinked in confusion, "What? What's wrong?"
Billie sat up slowly, a high pitched ringing starting to climb slowly into her ears, "When was I supposed to get my period?"
Drew scoffed, "Why are you asking me that? As if I'd know when you're supposed to --"
Billie gave her an expectant look with a single raised eyebrow.
"...the seventh."
"And today's date is?"
"It's the thirteenth."
Billie licked her lips slowly, her mouth having gone dry in a matter of seconds. Her pulse was skyrocketing. This couldn't be happening, right? She was just a little bit late, wasn't she? There was no way what she thought was going on was going on. No way in hell. But even so, six days late was was pretty huge. And if she really calculated from that night and now...only one conclusion made sense.
"...hey...Billie. Earth to Billie!" Drew shook her shoulders, "Are you feeling even sicker? You're going pale. Maybe we should call off brunch and go back home."
"...Drew... I think I'm pregnant." Billie whispered in shock.
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Billie rolled her eyes in annoyance. Why the hell did time have to move so slowly whenever you needed it to go much faster?!
She knew doing something else would probably make the tie move faster, but in situations such as this, she would usually play her ukulele and sing. However, the therapeutic capabilities of her singing had failed her that morning when she woke up and her voice was gone. And she probably couldn't write either because her mind was all over the place.
Billie entertained the idea of calling Drew, but knowing her chipper best friend, she'd unintentionally make her nerves increase tenfold. She flopped backwards on her bed with a groan, trying to pretend like she wasn't about to have a nervous breakdown. She blew out another breath, watching as a stray lock of wild hair flew up and landed in the middle of her face.
She rolled her head around lazily and glanced at the clock.
One minute to go...
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Drew started laughing, "Don't be melodramatic. A late period doesn't necessarily mean you're pregnant. Besides, you always use protection.
Billie stayed quiet, averting her gaze from Drew's amused glance. When Drew realized Billie wasn't agreeing or responding at all, the smile slowly fell from Drew's face.
"You did use protection, right?" Drew said slowly, taking Billie's face gently in her hands to bring her eyes back to hers, "Billie. You made sure you were safe, right?"
"I...think so" She said, frowning to try to remember, "Or at least, I thought we were covered. I can't really remember. I was kind of tipsy."
"Billie!"
"I know, I know. We probably shouldn't have hooked up half tipsy."
"This is serious! What if you really are pregnant?" Drew screeched, her eyes starting to look crazed. "Why didn't you guys use protection? The number one rule when you sleep with anyone is to use protection!"
"I thought we did." Billie said, the sick feeling in her stomach starting to grow once again.
"How could you be so careless?!"
"I don't know! It's not like I planned it! It just sort of happened!"
"This is SexEd 101 Billie!"
"I know Drew! You think I would want to purposely get pregnant?!"
"Stop shouting!'
"You stop shouting!"
"Well I'm sorry! This is freaking me out!"
"I'm the one who's about to have a damn baby! Why the hell are you freaking out?!"
Drew took a deep breath and closed her eyes, opening them after she had calmed down a bit, "You know what? There is no point in getting worked up over all of this... Let's just go to the drug store, buy a test and then...and then it'll be clear, right?"
"And if I'm pregnant?"
"We'll cross that bridge if we get there."
"You mean when." Billie corrected sourly, already knowing what she was going to find after taking that test.
"I mean if. Don't stress yourself over this right now. Let's take it one step at a time." Drew said, standing up in a flourish of lanky limbs, "For now, let's get you cleaned up. And then we can go buy that test."
Billie nodded, taking Drew's hand to get help standing up. But she already felt that foreboding, sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She just knew. She had a feeling the results would be positive. Positive in that she was pregnant...
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It was time.
Swallowing thickly, Billie rose from her bed and crept towards her desk, scared as hell of what she would see.
"Now or never Billie..." she muttered under her breath, picking up the test on her desk with one hand while covering her eyes with the other. "Be brave."
And then she uncovered her eyes and stared at the mini screen.
Two vertical pink lines.
Two vertical pink lines that, according to the box, meant that she was pregnant.
It was official.
She, Billie O'Connell, was pregnant.
"Fuck..." Billie breathed out, her voice was so strangled and breathing so shallow that the sound almost didn't leave her mouth. Every part of her body felt heavy and her hands had gone cold and clammy. She could hear her heartbeat pounding a mile a minute in her ears. Blue eyes wide, she slumped to the ground, still staring at the offending test.
She could vaguely hear her mother telling her to start heading to Drew's to get her before they headed to school or they would both be late to school, but she was only focused on the two pink lines that signified the end of her high school career, the end of her hopes and dreams for the future, and the end of her life as she knew it.
But what if it's a mistake? What if the test is wrong? The optimistic voice in Billie's head chirped up.
Billie looked up at the box. 99% accuracy! It boasted. It only served to give the despair creeping up on her more fuel.
"I'm fucking pregnant..." she said, her voice wavering in disbelief. It was all so surreal and unbelievable. Part of her didn't even think this was really happening.
She'd seen plenty of movies and TV shows in which the girl got pregnant in high school and had to deal with the consequences of the pregnancy, but she never in a million years thought it would happen to her. All those years, mocking the girls who would end up accidentally pregnant on the shows, and now... she was one of them.
"Billie!" her mother shouted from down the hall, "What is taking you so long? Get going to school!"
"Be out soon!" she shouted back, mustering up enough strength in her voice to respond.
Two things had to happen. One, she needed to discuss this with Drew, pronto. Her mind was far too scrambled and racing to try to figure anything out on her own. She was spiraling, she could feel it. And she most definitely needed Drew right now.
And two: She needed to make sure her mother never found this test. Ever.
So Billie ripped the box up into indecipherable miniscule squares and stuffed it at the very bottom of her trash can. She pulled up the trash bag, deciding to get rid of it now, rather than later. Then, gathering up her bag and her notebooks, she wrapped the test into some tissue and stuffed it in her pencil pouch. She slung her bag over her shoulder, picked up the garbage bag and rushed down the hall to head out of their house.
Play it cool Billie. If Mom doesn't see you're a mess, she won't ask questions.
Thankfully, Maggie was facing the sink when Billie walked out into the living room, and she quickly rushed past her to head out the door. And her dad had already gone to work.
"No breakfast, Billie?" Maggie asked, still facing the sink, "This is one of my few days off where I can make you something."
"I'm, uh...I'm good Mom." Billie lied quickly, "They're doing that senior brunch thing at school, remember? I'll eat there."
"Okay" Billie said, "Hurry on up to school then."
Releasing a mental sigh of relief, Billie raced out the door and tossed the bag immediately in the outdoor trash.
She walked to her car that was parked on the side of the road, her mind, body, and soul weighed down by the single tiny test wedged in her backpack. She felt like the results of the test were branded on her forehead as she walked down the sidewalk. As ridiculous as it seemed, she could have sworn people that were walking down the street were smirking and sneering at her, as if they knew what was currently growing in her womb.
As Billie arrived at her car she caught a whiff of the strong scent of bacon from the neighbours house. Almost immediately, as if punishing her, her stomach lurched violently. Gagging loudly, Billie gripped her stomach and rushed over to the grass, dry heaving for a good minute or so. Her stomach was completely empty, yet it continued to fight her and attempt to upchuck even the air out of her stomach. She felt unbelievably sick.
Shaking, and eyes red and watering, she straightened up, wiping her mouth of the saliva and trying to catch her breath. She slid into her car and started it up, driving off to Drew's house so they could be on their way to school.
Fuck... I really am going to be a mother...