“And if I don’t abort?”
“Then you don’t come home, and I’ll make sure you never see Milo. You have until New Years. If I haven’t heard from you, I’ll tell Beth you checked yourself out and ran away. And so you don’t get any ideas, I’ll send you a sign to prove I can make your life and the lives of your friends miserable.”
My stomach twists.
He pulls up to the front door of a 24-hour McDonald’s. The business sign says the dining area is open from 5 a.m. to 10 p.m.
“I can’t go in for an hour,” I whisper, defeated. Frost coats the ground, and sitting on the sidewalk would chill me to my bones.
“I know a way we can pass the time.”
I gag and get out. Frostbite is better than letting him touch me.
“Suit yourself,” he says, unlocking the back doors.
I sigh, relieved he doesn’t force me.
As soon as my bags are by the entrance, he speeds away.
Chapter 13
With a minute to spare, I roll into the gym for practice on Monday morning.
Extending his fist, Theo says, “Glad you could make it. What happened to you yesterday? You didn’t answer any of my texts.”
I pound his fist. “Busted my phone, and my mom donated my old phone. Picking up a new one this afternoon.”
“How pissed was your dad Saturday night?”
“Let’s just say I’m in jail for the next month.”
“You have the worst luck.” Theo leans over and ties his shoes.
“Tell me about it.”
“You want to come over later to play Grand Theft Auto and study for the physics final?”
“Can’t. Jail.” I bend over and wrap my hands around my ankles. “I’m forbidden from doing anything but cleaning our attic, coming to school, and basketball. Oh, and I have to spend the rest of the week after school volunteering.”
“How are you going to study for finals?”
I shrug. Why didn’t I think of that? My dad is always hounding me about my B-average. I could’ve got out of volunteering this week if I had a brain that actually functioned on problem solving instead of focusing on the negative.
Coach blows his whistle to silence the chatter. “Suicides.” The whistle tweets again, but no one moves. He claps his hands and hollers, “Now!” The guys on the endline sprint to the foul-line and rush back.
“Abner, Johnson,” Coach says. “Where’s Rodgers?”
I glance around. How did I not notice my other best friend missing? The gym door opens, and Sebastian walks in at a leisurely pace with a scowl on his face.
“Double-time, Rodgers,” Coach yells.
Sebastian places his bag on the bleachers and strolls over to the last line, avoiding me. His tense shoulders are in stark contrast to his leisurely walk. What Farren said about the breakup must be true.
It’s my turn for suicides, so I forget about him and get my head in the game, letting what Coach said about colleges being interested light a fire in my pace. From now until the end of the season, there will be no holding back.
The last fifteen minutes of practice, we play a scrimmage, and Sebastian opts to be on the opposing team.
This is a first. It’s always the three of us together. It has been since our junior year when we all made varsity. Theo and I were the only sophomores the year prior. Sebastian almost quit that year, but I talked him into sticking with it.
I dribble the ball over the half-court line, and Sebastian charges me, knocking me down.
“Foul,” I call out.
He turns away and mumbles, “Pussy.”
Theo pulls me to my feet. I grab Sebastian by the shoulder. “What’s your fucking problem?”
He shrugs from my grip and walks to the sidelines for water.
The rest of practice continues with Sebastian trying to take me out. Now that I’m aware, I dance around his advances, taunting him, even dribbling the ball between his legs and passing it off to Theo for a dunk.
If he wants to play, I’ll play. I’m three inches taller and have far superior ball skills.
He leaves the gym immediately following the scrimmage, skipping out on stretches. By the time I hit the locker room to shower, he’s long gone. Bray is missing in homeroom, and neither of them show up for lunch.
Bray being absent doesn’t surprise me. It’s finals week, and the smart kids get to skip. And she’s one smart sugar cookie covered in delicious and colorful icing.
If I had a phone, I’d text Sebastian and ask him what his deal is. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. At times, as in most friendships, it’s been up and down, but this is different.
Something’s going on, and I’m not sure how this will play out. I’m not sure how I want this to play out. The selfish side of me wants to go after his girl. But am I willing to throw away all these years of friendship for a crush?
It feels like more than a crush with Bray, though. Doesn’t it?
Chapter 14
A burst of fresh air hits me when I enter the free healthcare clinic. I still have my basic insurance through the state, though I’m not sure how long it will last. I didn’t sign up for continued care or transitional housing since I thought I’d be staying with the Schneiders.
A woman with puppy scrubs smiles at me. “Fill these out, and we’ll be right with you.”
I take a seat next to a mother watching her toddler move wooden pieces up thin, twisted metal.
There are open seats further away, but I need the body warmth. The first flurries of snow stick to the glass door.
I have until New Years to get an abortion or find somewhere to live. That might work for an adult with a vehicle and job qualifications. Not so much for a pregnant teenager. Maybe Sebastian will take me back.
My head hits the wall. The bridge to Sebastian’s is gone. I can’t go back. Even if he did understand, I doubt he’d jump into fatherhood and let me live with him permanently.
The nurse calls the mom and boy.
And the thought of raising a baby... Early morning doctor visits with some runny-nosed kid?
I can sort of picture it. I have plenty of experience with Milo, but I never had to wake up in the middle of the night to feed him or change his diaper.
It’s my decision. As a woman, I have the right to choose. I shouldn’t let Percy’s threats sway me one way or the other. It’s my body, and I’m the one in control, even though he took what he shouldn’t have and put me in this position.
My hand covers my stomach. The last thing I want is a baby, but I don’t want to satisfy Percy by getting rid of evidence, even if it is only a ball of tissue right now.
I wish I could miscarry, then I wouldn’t have to wrestle with my decision, and everything could go back to normal. As messed up as my normal is.
“Brayleigh?”
A doctor in pink scrubs takes me into a dim room and hands me a paper robe.
“Do I need this for you to take my blood?”
She nods. “You already had a positive test and have pregnancy symptoms that suggest you’re at least six weeks. I’d like to give you a transvaginal ultrasound since they’re more accurate at this stage.”
She leaves, and I change into the paper gown with the opening at my front. It barely stays closed, though I wear a size medium. And the bottom ends midthigh. I climb onto the table and lie down.
A few uncomfortable minutes later, she shoves a tool up my vagina and tells me to relax. Sometimes I wish I had teeth down there to fight off invasions.
The screen shows a black hole and a weird layer that looks like a cave with a white mass inside.
She takes a few pictures. “Looks viable.”
I hear a printer, then she turns the screen to me and pushes a button.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“S
trong heartbeat,” she says. “You’ve got a healthy baby.”
My pulse increases. She hands me the printouts. I look closely, but it’s just a blob. “I don’t see it.”
She touches the screen. “You’ll be able to see more in a few weeks, but your baby is about half an inch and has little hands and feet and eyes.”
“What? It’s supposed to be like a fleshy tadpole.”
She removes the tool and cuts off the screen. “At five weeks, but I’d say you’re between ten to twelve weeks.”
Ten to twelve weeks? “I had a period in October. You have to be wrong.”
“It’s fairly common to have a final period after conceiving.”
I sit up, worried I’m too close to the second trimester, and the fear gives me my answer. I want this thing out of me. “Am I too far along to have an abortion?”
She shakes her head. “No, but you are too far for the pill. You’ll need to set up an appointment with a clinic in the city for an abortion and talk to a therapist eighteen hours prior to the procedure.”
She opens a drawer and hands me a folder of pamphlets. “I don’t usually discuss this, but I had an abortion at fifteen. Teen pregnancy was a scarlet letter back then, and there weren’t as many resources for young mothers as there are now. Life went on, but I wasn’t the same. Just read these and think long and hard about what you want to do.”
“I know what I need to do.” Get this intruder out of me.
Chapter 15
Sebastian’s 4Runner is missing from the parking lot when I walk to my Jeep Cherokee after school. Maybe he checked out before lunch and isn’t avoiding me. I’ll be happy when I pick up my new cell phone today so I can get to the bottom of his attitude.
Auburn locks catch my attention walking into the community center of my church directly across the street from Candy Cane Kids.
Is that Bray?
I want to pull in, but one glimpse of my dash clock tells me there is no time to investigate. My mom said I had to arrive no later than 4:30 p.m. to pick up my schedule then head to the cell phone store. I have to be home no later than five to begin my evening of attic punishment.
I only have ten minutes to pick up my schedule. I’m already in hot water. No reason to cause it to boil over, so I fight the urge to walk into the community center to see if it was Bray.
I’d really like to know if she’s okay after the breakup. Maybe I can squeeze out a minute to check on her if this schedule-picking-up goes quickly.
Walking into the offices, I’m presented with a lady in a Christmas sweater so ugly, she’d be able to win every ugly sweater competition across the land. She’s on the phone and holds up her index finger then motions toward the wooden chairs next to the entrance.
I sit, trying to hold in my impatience. The office walls are painted in red and white stripes, and a Christmas tree covered in candy canes is framed by a single window. The smell of peppermint fills the air.
And I sit.
And I wait.
The lady keeps talking and talking.
Worst part? It sounds like a personal call.
Finally, she’s off, and I tell her the reason I’m there. She pulls a schedule with my name on it from the file organizer sitting on her desk.
“This week, we have you working every night at the homeless shelter across the street,” she says.
“My church is across the street,” I say. “It’s not a homeless shelter.”
“Reverend Hulbert sets up the community center, offices, and classrooms as a homeless shelter during the winter months.”
I’ve been going to this church my entire life. How did I not know that?
“And next week, you can either choose to stay there or work at the hospital.”
“I’ll go with the homeless shelter.” It’s easy and convenient. I don’t want to be around a bunch of sick people and catch whatever they have, causing me to miss the tournament.
“Great. I’ll mark you down for that. Stop by after Christmas, and I’ll let you know what’s available for the new year.”
I glance at my watch as I exit the office. 4:45 p.m. So much for stopping by the community center, or homeless shelter, to look for Bray.
Chapter 16
For some stupid reason I can’t get the intruder’s heartbeat out of my head, so now I’m checking into a church homeless shelter with a slew of pamphlets and a bag of prenatal pills like I haven’t made a decision.
A man with salt and pepper hair that contrasts his youthful warm brown skin hands me a bag and adjusts his wire-rimmed glasses. “Check-in is every night by eight. Here’s a bag of toiletries, a lock for your locker, and a notepad and pen. We have computers and people on standby to help you with job applications.
“Every morning, there is service before breakfast that you are required to attend and AA, NA, and other group sessions you can go to throughout the day. Our goal is to provide you shelter and the tools necessary to get you on your feet. If you have school or a job, you’ll need to notify one of the drivers. They’ll identify themselves at supper. Any questions?”
“Nope.”
He stands. “Okay. Let’s get you settled so you can wash up before dinner. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”
He notices me struggle with my bags and takes one from my bad arm.
“Thank you.”
He shows me to my room, and I stuff my things in the standup locker. This is a far better setup than I imagined despite mandatory church every morning. And unlike the city shelter, I get a private room with one roommate, Jillion. Plus, there isn’t the typical maximum three- to five-day stay regulation that I saw on all the other shelter sites.
“Hi,” I say.
“I’ll leave you girls to it,” Reverend Hulbert says, closing the door behind him.
“You look too privileged to be homeless, coming in here with all that stuff and not smelling like death.”
Jillion has her legs crossed, sitting on her bed with a teen magazine opened to an article about the latest selfie trend. Her lips and tongue are blood red from the cherry blow pop she has in her mouth. The color looks brilliant against her deep brown skin. A gold necklace with her name on it covers her neck, and her nails are painted fresh with a sparkling ruby red color.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.”
She tilts her head to the side. “What’cha in for?”
“Kicked out.”
Jillion cackles. “Little miss white girl, I bet you ain’t done nothing in your life.”
Strangely, I think my secret might impress her.
“I got pregnant.”
“Well, shit. I’ll tell you what.” She slides off the bed and throws her arm around my shoulder, taking the sucker out of her mouth with a pop. She’s tiny, barely reaching my shoulders and probably weighs under a hundred pounds. I’d think she’s twelve if she didn’t have boobs and her hair and makeup done up like Rihanna. “You come with me tomorrow. I got you.”
“I need to start looking for a job tomorrow.”
“That’s exactly what I have in mind. You eighteen?”
“And a day older.”
“You funny. I can work with that.”
Chapter 17
I get home late, thanks to the Candy Cane Kids lady and a massive line at the cell phone store. It seems everyone busted their phone over the weekend and needed a replacement. Luckily, my dad was making a run to the liquor store, allowing me to sneak in with my mom being the only person to notice.
With my new phone in hand, I climb the stairs to the attic with a beanie covering my ears, a scarf wrapped around my neck, and gloves enveloping my fingers. Mom still hasn’t replaced the heater, and the temperature has dropped significantly. The weatherman claims the ground will be covered in snow in a matter of days. Flurries have already started.
Before tackling the tower of boxes marked miscellaneous with a purple marker, I scroll through my mountain of text messages, deleting the ones from Farren and quickly reading Theo’s to make sure there isn’t anything we didn’t talk about today.
I send him a quick message letting him know I have a phone once again then begin reading the long thread from Sebastian that began yesterday morning.
TO
8:03 a.m. Lucky ass getting to skip early morning practice. Where were you?
10:16 a.m. Dude, what’s up???
10:32 a.m. WTF? I really need to talk to you.
11:04 a.m. Like seriously, I need you to talk me down.
11:55 a.m. I’m glad I have a friend available when I need one.
12:15 p.m. I broke up with Brayleigh.
12:45 p.m. I figured that would get a response. How wrong can I be? I guess she did run off to find you after I kicked her out and has already turned you against me.
1:30 p.m. Thanks for choosing a hoe over thirteen years of friendship.
2:56 p.m. You’re a selfish bastard. See if I ever help you out with anything ever again.
3:47 p.m. I knew there was something going on between the two of you. You take anything of mine that you want. Always have. How am I just now seeing this one-sided friendship?
6:19 p.m. You can have the fickle whore. I’m sure you’ll give her what she wants without hesitation. You probably already have.
The last message is a meme of a celebrity with three middle fingers up that says read between the lines. It was sent immediately after practice this morning.
Scrolling through his social media feed is worse than reading the gossip column of the school newspaper. All the crudeness is targeted toward Bray. She doesn’t have a cell phone to defend herself.
I send him a message:
TO
Chill out dude. I busted my phone Sunday morning. I’m under house arrest for the next month thanks to Farren. Meet me early tomorrow morning before practice to discuss this like adults. And by the way, there is nothing going on between me and Bray. I haven’t seen her since Saturday when you left to drop her off. So, you need to think twice about what you’re accusing me of.
Unwrap My Heart Page 6