My breathing is heavy. So is his. Our bodies close, feeling every inch of each other. All I can think about is how good it feels, and how much I love him. After we finish, he rolls off of me, and pulls me into his arms. I look into his face to see he is smiling. Our eyes meet for a moment and he tells me he loves me. I believe him, because I know he does. I nuzzle my face into the space between his neck and his shoulder.

After our breathing is back to normal, and our hearts have slowed, I look at him again. His face has changed and I don’t know what to make of it. His eyes have become bloodshot, something that happens when he worries. His face is flushed, but not the same way it was a moment ago. Like he’s trying to hold back tears. He is staring at the ceiling. I look at him and ask what’s wrong.
“Just thinking…” he says quietly.
“About what?” I whisper. The way he is acting is really starting to bother me.
“I….I’m sorry Erika…I….I don’t know if I pulled out in time….I don’t know how to ask this…so I’m going to just say it….could you go clean yourself out….?” I kiss him, tell him not to worry, and go do as he asks. I return to find him in exactly the same position, staring at the ceiling. I crawl back into bed, and his arms, but he doesn’t look at me. He looks worried. I kiss him gentaly.
“I’m so sorry Erika….” he says this like every word is burning his throat. I am confused. Granted, we didn’t use a condom, but I’m on the pill. Then again….it was only my first pack, and only the last day of the hormonal pills. I snuggle into his neck, and whisper to him that it’s okay. That we’ll be fine, even though a small spark of worry has been ignited at the back of my mind.
“No, Erika…You don’t get it….I just put your whole future at stake….Your whole life….” he says, his voice quivering slightly. I grab his hand and squeeze.
“No, Caleb..” he begins to protest, but I hold a finger to his lips and squeeze again, “You didn’t put my whole future at stake, we did. That wasn’t just you. And it isn’t like we were totally unprotected…” I let the sentence fall, because I really don’t know what else to say. I can see him breaking down behind his eyes, but I don’t know what to say… We continue talking, quietly, but in the back of my mind, I’m worrying.

Not about becoming pregnant. That can be fixed. While I am unsure I would be able to go through an abortion, I’m sure I could give the baby up, if I was even pregnant. I may be in debt for a while because of the medical bills, but my life wouldn’t be over.

No, I’m not worried about having a baby. I worried about loosing my life. Not through child birth, or something similar. I’m worried about loosing the one thing that gives my life real meaning. The one thing that keeps me going, even when things get really, really hard. The first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing I think about before I drift off. The only person in the world that can make me smile while I’m crying. Caleb…. He is my life….my world…my everything….

You probably think that I’m worried about loosing him because he won’t stick around if I have a baby. I wish that’s what I’m worried about. I know for a fact, that he would stay, no matter how unhappy he would be. I know that. But I really don’t believe I’ll become pregnant. We were fairly safe, not to mention the fact that I’m not even ovulating right now. No, this worry is far more complex.

I’m worried because I see the look on his face. He keeps apologizing, and I can see the look on his face. He looks the same as he accidentally dropped the magnet on my nose. It really hurt, and he knew it. It upset him so much that he hurt me…He has the same look on his face now. Why does this bother me, you may ask. Because I can see him leaving me…for my own sake. I would hate it, and I would fight it tooth and nail, but I can honestly say that I can see it as something he would do… Leave me because he thinks I’m better off without him.
“Are….are we going to change..?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
“I don’t think so..” he says. It’s the most sure he has sounded since this conversation started, but the choice of words doesn’t quell my worries.

I wonder if he’s thinking about it in the back of his mind. I wonder if his mind is racing because he thinks I’ll break it off for my own good. I back off him just a little bit and burry my face in the pillow. I feel his head snap in my direction when he notices I’m shaking. I tell the tears not to come, but as always, they ignore me. I tell my body not to shake with terrified sobs, but of course, it defies me as well.

He says something to try to make me feel better. I can’t blame him, I’d say anything to make him feel better, if I only knew what to say. But he’s trying to comfort me because he thinks I’m scared I might be pregnant. The turn my face so he can hear me.
“…I’m…not…worried…about….that…”I say, trying to control the sobs so that I may speak. He squeezes my hand tightly.
“You should be…” he says, which of course doesn’t comfort me at all.
“I’m worried about us..” I say quietly, all in one breath. He looks confused…almost angry at these words. Then he looks even more afraid then he did before.
“What….are you worried I won’t love you anymore…?” he whispers after a few seconds. Hearing the words stabs a knife through my heart. In the very deep recesses of my mind I know that I’m being irrational, but that doesn’t stop the flood of tears coming from my eyes. I don’t know how to tell him that that isn’t quite it, so I keep quiet. When I don’t answer, he pulls me to him a little roughly and hugs me tight. We’re quiet for little while. When I’ve settled down enough to look at him, I see the look in his eyes.
“We’re going to change.” I say, as I’m sobbing. My voice shakes and cracks horribly, because I’m letting myself believe this is true.
“You need to be worried about yourself, Erika,” he says, stronger then his voice has been. “We’ll be okay. As a couple, we will be fine. I will always love you. You need to worry about you.” I shake harder, though I don’t entirely understand why. I sob, and he squeezes me. He tells me it’s okay and everything we be alright, but he doesn’t sound quite sure of him self. He lets go of me so he can look me in the eyes, but I burry my face in the pillow.
“Look at me…” he commands, not harshly, but not gently either. I keep my face in the pillow, because I’m really loosing control now. He asks me to look at him a few more times, but I can’t do it. He puts a hand on the back of my neck, and gently pulls my face to him.
“Look at me….” he whispers, pleading now, “Erika…please….look at me…” I open my eyes and look into his. In a matter of seconds my mind assaults my heart with dozens of happy memories I’ve shared with this set of eyes. It terrorizes me with ideas of what it will be like when these eyes are no longer part of my life. He cups my face in both hands, and pulls it close to his. Our noses are almost touching, and he speaks softly.
“Erika…Look at me…My feelings for you will stay the same,” I start to look down because I can’t let myself believe him because it means I could get hurt. “Look at me….” he says again, “Erika, my love for you will not change…it’s not what you should be worried about…” I start to protest, but he quiets me, “I will always love you, Erika. Your entire future is at stake here. Don’t be worried about us. We’ll be fine….Okay?” My sobs subside just slightly. It helped, but my mind still murders my heart with thoughts of having to live without him. He lets go of my face and I sit up, pulling my knees to my chest.
“You need to put yourself first.” This time, I do interrupt him, because he just doesn’t understand.
“It’s not that easy. I don’t know how to worry about this, I know how to worry about us..” This isn’t exactly what I want to say, but it’s the closest thing I can manage.
“Erika, from now until we know we have nothing to worry about, us comes in second. You worry about yourself first-” I interrupt him again.
“Do you have any idea how hard that is?-” He interrupts me with a yes, but I know he doesn’t. He doesn’t because I haven’t…can’t…explain it correctly. He tells me it okay, and when he asks if I understand, I make sure to put emphasis on the fact that understand, not that it’s something I can do. I can’t stop crying, though I do settle some.

Before I believe I can manage to, it’s time to take him home. I stand up shakily. He asks if I’m composed enough to go out there, I ask rhetorically if I have any choice. I walk through the living room quickly, so no one will notice my blood shot eyes, flushed face, or tear streaked cheeks. Of course my brother follows, because god knows I can’t drive Caleb home without a chaperone.

Normally this would only bother me slightly, but as there is so much I need to say before the night is over, and so little I can say in front of my brother, this only worsens my mood. Brother dearest rides in the back seat, while I drive and Caleb rides passenger. He grabs my hand after I start the car. As he starts to let go, I grab his and refuse to drop it. I play the radio kind of loud, to keep brother for trying to make conversation. I bop around the channels, looking for a song that will let me say part of what I want to say, without tipping the twerp off. Of course, the night I need it, absolutely nothing is on the radio.

I do catch a couple of songs I actually know, and though they don’t have the meaning I’m looking for, I sing anyway. Or at least I try. My voice shakes, luckily backseat driver is oblivious to the emotions of others and pays no attention. Unluckily, the body I’m attached to by hand does. He squeezes hard because it’s all he can do right now.

Way before I am ready to be separated from him, my car delivers us to his house. I walk him up to the door. I put arms around him, but the arms that circle me don’t feel the same. I knew it….we’ve changed already….

The car ride back seems to take much longer then the ride there. I turn the music up louder, because I’m barley hanging on as it is. I think the whole ride home, not even thinking about the direction the car is headed.

Once home, I get out of the car and rush into the house. I go to tell mother goodnight, and of course she notices. She asks if something is wrong, but I tell her I’m just tired. I strip off my clothes, and put on one of his shirts. I crawl into bed, shivering of something entirely different then the December chill.

I think it will take me hours of crying to fall asleep, but when I wake up I realize I passed out before any thinking can get done. I am awake early for a Sunday morning. I just lay in bed and think for a long time. I pick up my lap top and search emergency contraceptives. Damn. Age restraint. I can’t tell my mom what happened last night. Someday, yes, but not now. Not when she’s worried about a son going over seas, and a son in jail. I’m supposed to be the good one, not the one who has sex.

I spend the whole day thinking about the previous night. Well that, and waiting for him to get online. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to act. I am totally, completely, and utterly lost.

He gets online, but not with much time to talk. We chat, but of course it eventually comes to last night. He’s scared. I’m scared. But not for the same reasons. I tell him about plan b, and as I’m telling him that I won’t be able to get it, I realize there is a way.

Shell. Shell is probably one of my best friends in the whole world. She is my best friends mom, and knows more about my sex life then my mother, and my best friend for that matter. Shell is my other mother, my big sister, and my best friend all wrapped into one.

She is my mother because I trust her with my secrets, my feelings, and my life. She is my big sister because I can tell her things you can’t tell a mother for fear of hurting them. She is my best friend because I don’t have to live with her, therefore I don’t have the odd urge to kill her that you get with mothers and sisters.

I don’t mention this to Caleb. I am not completely sure Mom (what I call Shell) will get plan b for me. I know she’d do anything if she thought it was best for me…but will she think this is best? Or will she think it’s best that I talk to my own mother about it. I don’t tell Caleb because I don’t want to get his hopes up. Eventually, he signs out to go to bed. I call Mom.

It’s nearly 10, and she doesn’t answer. I didn’t really think this would happen, but I leave a message anyway, because this is really important. Almost as soon as I hang up, my phone is buzzing with her calling me back. I tell her what happened. She tells me my only option is to talk to my mother. Though I don’t ask her if she will get it for me, I think that this is her way of telling me she won’t. We get to the end of our conversation, and she asks if I need a parent to get it. I tell her no, and as she replies relief washes over me. She suggests she get it for me.
“Actually….That’s kind of why I called….I was just afraid to ask….” I say timidly.
“Shit, sweetie. Why didn’t you say that earlier. I’ll get it for you honey,” she says reassuringly. We make plans for me to drive out there the next day. I take a deep breath and start to believe that maybe everything will be okay.

I walk into school, and find Caleb. He looks miserable, but only I notice because of the book he’s got his nose in. I pull him up off the bench. He looks up at me, partly ashamed, partly confused.
“Would you mind if we went to the library this morning? I have something I want to talk to you about, but I don’t want to be interrupted, or overheard by the morning group.” He just nods. We stop by my locker, then head to the library.

I take his hand and walk him all the way to the back shelves, the reference section. He half smiles and pulls a book off the shelf.
“You want to talk to me about the Berlin Wall?” he asks, holding up a reference book on the Cold War. He is trying to get me to smile, and it works, because it always does. I pull him to the ground.
“No, I just don’t want to interrupted.” He puts his arm around me and I tell him all about plan b, how it works, and how I’m getting it. He asks a lot of questions, but seems better by the end of morning time.

Just before the bell rings to head to first period, I move in front of him. I tell him to look at me. He does. I cup my hands around his face and move our faces together, the way we were two nights ago. I look into his eyes and summon every ounce of emotional strength I have.
“Caleb…We will be okay. As in both of us, together, and separately. We made a mistake, but it isn’t like this is a mistake no one else has ever made. We don’t even know if we have anything to be worried about. After today, there won’t be anything at all. You can let go now. You can stop worrying. I’m going to be fine, and so is my future.” I kiss him softly, and at long last, it really feels like we will be okay.