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My Life Is What I Like To Call Unpredictable (Chapter Three)
I walked out to the car, stiffly, barely aware of my surroundings. My phone rang when I sat in the car, and I picked it up, “hello?” I asked.
“Hey, it’s Joel. Why did you ask me that?”
“How the hell did you get my number?”
“Don’t worry about that, just tell me why you asked. And sorry, but Melanie was over.”
I laughed bitterly, “I figured that, but don‘t even begin to act like you‘re sorry.”
He was quiet, “and I asked that wonderful question because guess what? You planted an egg, pal. Congratulations, you’re a papi.”
More silence. And then something dropping in the background, “you’ve got to be screwing me, right now.”
“We already did, I wouldn’t put myself through that misery again.”
“I won’t claim it, I won’t say it’s mine. And I won’t let you do a paternity test, either.”
I was shocked into silence then, he continued, “I don’t care what you say to anyone, I’ll make sure no one believes you. They’ll all just call you a slut.”
I took two deep breaths, “I wasn’t planning on telling anyone, I said I wouldn’t and I meant it. But you’re telling me you don’t want to have anything to do with your own child?”
“No. I have a life ahead of me.”
“What about mine, Joel? You did this to me!” I screamed.
“I don’t care. No one else will believe it, so neither will I.”
“Karma’s a B, Joel, I just hope you know that,” I whispered and then hung up.
I drove home, collapsed on the bed, and folded my hands over my stomach, cradling the life inside me. “I’ll keep you safe, love, I promise,” I whispered.
“Knock, knock,” my mom said from the door.
I quickly dropped my hands, “yeah?”
“I--I’m not hungry, I’ll fix myself a sandwich later.”
She put her hand to my forehead, “you’re not sick, are you?”
“No, just tired.”
“Okay, well, call me if you need anything.”
I nodded, “alright, Mom.”
I sat on my bed for hours, thinking about what I was going to do, but not quite knowing what to do. And then one of the obvious hit me, I could call Lillian! She’d help me figure out what I was going through!
I dialed her number quickly, and as soon as she answered I began to sob, “Serenity, what’s wrong?”
“I--I’m pregnant, Lillian!” I said, trying to be quiet, when I wanted to scream.
“Oh. My. Goodness. How? Who? When? Why?” she was throwing questions at me like a grenade launcher.
I sighed, and began to tell her about the night of Chelsea’s party, what Joel had said to me then and now, and then I just sat quietly as she took it all in.
“So you’re pregnant by Joel Jenkins, our high school quarterback? The hottest guy in school, the one every girl wants but can’t have because he’s been in the longest relationship with Melanie Cartwright, and you SLEPT with him?”
I sighed, “yeah, Lillian.”
“Wow, I shouldn’t have moved.”
I laughed, she could always cheer me up, “what am I going to do, Lillian?”
She thought for a moment, “I’ll come down as soon as I can, okay? And you need to tell your mom… soon. But maybe you should wait until I’m there. Do you know anything about pregnancy? Like when you’ll be getting big, the morning sickness, etcetera?”
“No, Lillian! I’m only in the freakin’ ninth grade and up until nearly three weeks ago I’d never thought about having sex!”
She sighed for a moment, “I’ll look up all I can and send you as much information in e-mail as possible, okay? I don’t want you to do anymore than you have to, now. But I have to go, alright?”
I took a deep breath, “okay, and thanks for everything.”
She laughed, “you’re my best friend, of course I’d do anything for you.”
I smiled and hung up, praying that she’d find everything out that she could. I was just so young, but it’s not like I could give the baby up, that would be… murder, right? And… oh, I don’t know.
I walked out of my room to get some food, fixing myself a bologna sandwich. “Feeling better, sweetie?” Dad asked as he walked into the kitchen.
I avoided his gaze, “yeah, thanks for asking.”
He smiled and left the room, I grabbed a can of Pringles, and made my way back to my room. I sat down on the bed, and quietly ate. I went over to my computer to check my e-mail, I had a new one from Lillian, wow. She works fast.
It had all these different articles about morning sickness and what the normal schedule was for pregnant people, but they said that everyone was different. Morning sickness typically started around the first month after you’d had sex, so I figured I had less than a week before I had to start hiding that too.
At the end of the e-mail, Lillian had wrote, “I’m coming down in two weeks, keep it quiet until then. I’ll be here. But right now, you need to go to a doctor, but you can‘t without a parent… okay, wait until I come down. Alright?”
I wrote back a quick thank you and signed off. I crawled into my bed then, and closed my eyes, then drifted off to sleep. I woke up at ten, saw a note from my parents saying they had went out for groceries.
I sighed, and watched t.v. for a while, wondering what I should do. I ended up not doing anything, and when my parents hadn’t come back by one, I started to get worried. I called her quickly, “hey, where are you?”
She laughed, “sorry, we’re taking a while. We’re not sure what to eat tonight, we’re thinking about going out. Where would you like to go?”
It takes that long to figure out what we’re eating tonight? “Um, I don’t care.”
“Oh, let’s go to one of the fancy restaurants! Won’t that be fun?”
I shrugged to myself, “sure, lots.”
She laughed, “well, find a dress to wear, okay? We’ll be back very soon.”
I hung up and went to my closet, when I saw the dress, the one that I had worn the night everything had gotten messed up, I screamed in frustration and balled it up and threw it at my floor.
I picked up a white and blue dress, with halter top straps, and laid it on the bed, grabbed a pair of blue sandals, and sat down on my bed for a moment. “I’ll take a nap, then I’ll feel better.” I said to myself.
I slept for a few hours, and I woke up when Mom yelled, “time to get up, honey!”
I yawned and staggered to the living room, eyeing them slowly, “what do you want?”
“We’re going out, remember? Go take a shower, and get ready, okay?”
I nodded, “alright.”
I walked to the bathroom, gathered a pink towel and washcloth, went to my room to get my dress and hung it up, turned the curling iron on, and then took a quick shower.
I got out, dried off, slipped my dress on, and dried my hair, then I curled it, thinking back to a few weeks before when I had done this, nothing good had come of it. I applied some eyeliner, eye shadow, and mascara. I walked to my room, slipped my shoes on, and went out into the living room.
“Oh, you look beautiful, Serenity!” Mom exclaimed.
I laughed, “thanks, you do too.” She was wearing a pale green dress that stopped halfway down her calves and green flats.
Dad walked out of the bedroom in a light blue polo shirt and tan khakis, “oh, you look gorgeous, love,” Mom said to him.
He smiled, “you look beautiful, as you have everyday since I met you.”
“Is this going to be like a date for you two? Because I don’t have to go.”
“No, no! We want you to go, sweetie,” Mom said, with a suspicious gleam in her blue eyes. Uh-oh, what was I getting into? “Honey,” she said after a moment, “you look stressed, are you doing okay in school?”
I nodded, “of course, I wouldn’t want to let you down,” and I didn’t. I just wish I could tell her how badly I had let her down.
She smiled, “oh, sweetheart, you could never let us down.” If she only knew.
We got into the car and drove to one of the local restaurants, and sat down at a table. A boy approached the table, and after a moment, I recognized him. He was the bartender from the night at Chelsea’s. What have I gotten myself into now?