by A. R. Breck
I look around, see my mom half asleep on the couch and their bedroom door shut with my dad behind it. Glancing at the time again, I see the bus should be here—or already left—so I forget my backpack, forget my sweatshirt, forget everything that I need and hurry to the front door, grab my shoes in my hands and run in my socks out the door and to my bus.
I sprint, feeling winded already from the altercation with my dad, but I can hear the loud grumbling of the bus around the corner and I can’t miss it.
I fucking can’t.
Turning the corner, I see the bus and raise my hands up and wave them around wildly. I watch as Easton and Logan turn and look out the window. Logan stands up and shouts something to the bus driver. I keep running, almost there. When I get close enough to where I can slow down, I notice Cara standing there at the door with a curious look on her face.
It only makes me angry, watching people question my life without know what the fuck happens behind those doors. If anyone knew…
If anyone knew, they’d go running the other day.
“Why aren’t you wearing any shoes?” She asks in her stupid girly voice.
I lower my eyebrows and give her a look of pure hatred.
I don’t say a word, because I don’t speak to anyone. Instead, I move past her and walk to the seat in the back of the bus next to my friends.
“Asshole.” I hear her mumble under her breath.
Bitch.
“Yo, dude. You good?” Easton asks from behind me, startling me.
I’m standing in the lunch line with my hot lunch, waiting to get up to the front to punch my pin in. Completely zoning out, I’m thinking about this morning and how much hate I have for my dad. He throws me off, makes me fumble through my days and second guess everything I do.
I fucking hate him.
I nod my head. Coming up next to the check out, I turn around and wait in line.
When it gets to be my turn, I punch in my code. The red light blinks back at me, and I frown, confused. But I shouldn’t be, because I rarely have money on the account. It just sucks, because I didn’t eat breakfast and didn’t have time to grab any cash for lunch.
I type in my code one more time, and when it blinks red again, I slam my tray down and walk away, going back to our usual table, sitting down and laying my head in my hands. I’ll just take a fucking nap. My stomach hurts from being so hungry, but whatever.
When I feel a tap on my shoulder, I ignore it. But when I feel another poke, I shoot up and flare my nostrils at the accuser.
There stands Easton, two trays in hand.
I deflate. Giving him a look of gratitude, I take the tray from his hands and dig in.
I might have shitty parents. A shitty family. But family isn’t always blood.
Easton, Logan, these are my real family.
Till death
5
Cara
Now
When I get home, I grab my phone and dial Rose. I knew the conversation with my mom wasn’t going to be great, but I honestly wasn’t expecting it to go to such epically bad proportions. Why am I even surprised? My mom has never cared about me, and carrying her grandchild isn’t going to change that. I’m never going to have that relationship with her that I’ve always wanted.
I’m done. I’m just so fucking done. I’m not talking to her again. Not ever.
“Hey, girl. What’s up?” Rose asks in her melodic voice.
“Where are you?” I sniffle.
“I’m at Easton’s. Need me to come over?” Her tone is more serious, and then some muffling in the background. It sounds like she’s walking around the room.
I love how she knows just from the tone of my voice how bad things are. That’s how we are and how we’ve always been. We know when one another is in trouble. We drop whatever we’re doing, and we’re there. Always.
“Please?” My chin wobbles. I needed some guidance and had nowhere to go. My mom completely let me down today, and now more than ever I’ve realized what I need to do. I don’t need Rose to change my mind, because she’s not going to. I just need her. I need to hug someone because my heart is actively breaking. It’s tearing in two and I didn’t realize this child has already sunk its tiny nails into my heart.
“I’ll be right over.” She hangs up.
I clutch my phone in my hand in the tightest grip and sink to the floor. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I gnaw on my lip until I taste the metallic taste of blood. I want to cry, but I’m so damn dried up of all emotions, I end up just staring at my front door and waiting for Rose. Numb.
I wish I could call Jackson. I want his strong presence to lean on when I feel so small, so insignificant I feel lost in the dust.
One gust of wind and I’d be forgotten forever.
Jackson did leave me. Even knowing he’s having a child, he walked away and hasn’t looked back. Fuck him. He doesn’t deserve to be a part of this.
Fuck him.
The door opens, and in comes Rose with shorts and Easton’s oversized sweatshirt that falls to her knees. Even just having woke up and looking like she does, she looks like a barbie that’s just been taken out of the box.
“What’s wrong?” She walks over to me, falling to her knees and wrapping her arms around me.
I shake my head, and she gives me a squeeze and murmurs, “Come on. Get up.” She helps me stand and we sit down on the couch behind us. “What happened? You haven’t been answering the door lately. I haven’t seen you since… you know.” Since I told Jackson about the baby. “Now I come see you and you’re breaking down. What’s going on?”
“I saw my mom.” I whisper.
She rears back and looks at me with wide eyes. “Why the fuck would you do that?”
I shrug. “I wanted to tell her.”
She scrunches up her nose. “Mmm. And? What happened?”
“Exactly what you’re thinking happened. She said I’m worthless. Just like every other girl in The Grove. A whore.” I pick at the skin around my nails. It’s giving me something to do, because right now, more than anything, I just want to take a few shots of rum to numb away this damn pain.
“She’s stupid. Seriously… your mom has no right to say anything after the way she’s treated you. A waste of a human. Why are you letting her words get to you?”
“Because I—because I needed my mom! I needed to see what she would say. What she thought I should do in this situation.”
“What are you going to do?” She brushes the hair out of my face as she gives me a frown.
“I can’t keep it.” I look down at my thumb and watch as a dollop of blood appears. I’m picking too hard.
“Does that mean you’re…” I can see in her eyes what she’s thinking. She thinks I’m going to have an abortion.
“No. No, I can’t. Not that.”
I watch as Rose deflates. “So, adoption?”
I nod my head. “Will you help me? I can’t do it alone.” My bottom lip trembles and I bite down to stop the shake. Why the hell did I get myself into this situation?
“Of course, I’ll help you, Cara. What do you need me to do?”
I look up at her. “I don’t know. Can you help me find a place, set up an appointment or something? I just… it’s just too hard.” I tear finally escapes, and I wipe it away before it reaches my cheek.
She runs her hand down my arm to my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Of course.” She leans over to pull her phone out of her pocket. Unlocking it, she types something in and then squints at her screen. “Okay, here. Pine Family and Adoption Services. They’re open. Want me to call?”
I nod my head and take a deep breath. My heart races to the point I feel out of breath. I don’t want to think about how this is making me feel. How sad I feel for the loss that I never even had. A part of me doesn’t even feel pregnant. If it wasn’t for the constant nausea I’m battling, I probably wouldn’t even know.
I half listen to Rose as she sits on the phone with the adoption services place. She
goes through the prompts, and each question she answers makes the heavy dread weigh down my stomach more and more. I feel seconds away from gagging when she hangs up the phone.
“There. They’re going to send you some paperwork to fill out and once that’s done, they’ll send you some information with potential parents. Have you set up a doctor appointment? That’s definitely something that needs to be done…” She trails off when she sees how pale my face gets. “Are you okay? You don’t look so—” She doesn’t have time to finish because I bolt off the couch and across the room to the bathroom. Slamming the door shut, I drop to my knees in front of the toilet and expel any and everything that’s left in my stomach.
When I’m finished, I rest my forehead against the toilet seat as tears trail down my face. I so badly wish that I could keep this child and be a great mom. Then give a big fuck you to my mom to show her I could do it.
But even the small possibility that I end up like my mom. Maybe my brain is just in some way wired the same as hers. This baby will pop out of me and I’ll end up being a fucking drunk and get some deadbeat boyfriend. My child will grow up not knowing love.
No.
There’s no fucking way I’ll ever allow my kid to be subjected to that kind of life. Even if it literally kills me to give it up, I know it’ll be for the best.
“Cara?” Knock, knock. “I want to come in, but I really don’t like the smell of vomit. Are you okay?”
I shake my head against the seat. Fucking Rose.
“I’ll be right out.” I mumble.
When my rolling stomach settles, I stand up and go to the sink. Filling my mouth with tap water, I swish it around and spit it in the sink. Looking into the mirror, I notice the huge bags underneath my eyes and the permanent frown line creased between my eyebrows. Underneath my sadness and bad mood, there’s some new glow to my cheeks I’ve never had before.
Is this that… that pregnancy glow everyone talks about?
Fucking hell.
I shake my head and leave the bathroom, walking back to the couch and a worried looking Rose.
“What happened?” She scooches over and makes room for me to sit.
“I haven’t been feeling good.” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Morning sickness sucks.”
She nods.
“So, I guess I need to make a doctor appointment. I never even thought of that.”
Rose unlocks her phone and leans over so I can see her screen. “This doctor office is close by and they look really good. Might be worth giving them a call.”
I pull the phone out of her hands and take a look. Scrolling through, I see a few women family doctors that look promising. Feeling like this is a good pick, I take a deep breath and hit the call button.
“You’re calling them?” Rose mouths to me.
I nod and avert my eyes. I’m nervous as hell. I’m not even on any health insurance. What am I going to do about that? I can’t afford all these appointments out of pocket. I don’t even have a job…
The doctor office receptionist picks up, and I explain to the woman that I need to make a pregnancy appointment.
The woman huffs out a laugh. “A prenatal appointment?”
“Yes.” I ground out between my teeth. Fucking bitch.
We make an appointment, and although it isn’t for a few weeks yet, she gave me instructions to fill out the paperwork (yay, more paperwork) she’s mailing me and to go purchase some prenatal vitamins. She also told me I need to call and get on medical assistance.
Another damn thing I have to do.
“So? Appointment made?” Rose has a subtle excitement growing in her eyes.
“Rose… please stop. Don’t get excited. You know I’m not going to keep this baby. I’m giving it up for adoption.” We stare at each other as our eyes start to water.
When my front door slams open, both of us jump about a foot in the air as Jackson stands there with a murderous look on his face.
“Now was is this about you giving my fucking baby up for adoption?”
6
Jackson
One hour ago
I lick the paper and fold it over, smoothing it and smiling at my creation. I’ve always been the best joint roller around. It’s fucking perfect.
Lighting it up, I frown when I hear my front door open.
“Hello?” I hear a familiar voice.
Coughing, I let out a, “Yeah,” and watch as Easton walks into my room with his eyebrows lifted.
“What’s going on, bro? Haven’t seen you in a minute.” He slaps my hand and I pass him the joint. “Where you been?”
I shrug. “Not shit. Just here. You know.”
Easton cocks his head to the side. “What the fuck you mean you’ve been here. You hate here.”
I scowl at him, choosing not to answer. He’s right. I fucking hate it here. Here is where my dad treats me like shit, and I have to watch my mother wither away. But I can’t very well tell him that I’ve been stuck here because I feel like too much of a bastard to go anywhere.
I knocked someone up. But not just someone. I knocked Cara up. She’s carrying my baby.
I’m going to be a parent and I don’t have the first clue on what that actually means.
Did she do this shit on purpose?
Is the kid even mine?
Easton sits down on the floor next to the bed, and together we silently smoke this joint, passing it between one another. I think about the last time I saw Cara before she told me she was pregnant. It was the day she told Easton and Rose we slept together. I made the mistake of sleeping with her a couple times, and none of them ended well. Sleeping with her that morning was the very end. The straw that broke the fucking camel’s back.
I’m sleeping in my bed when I wake up to a tap on my window. I instantly get on guard. No one ever taps on my window, and it makes it even more sketchy that it’s in this neighborhood. Could easily be some homeless guy looking to see if the place is vacant before he loots it.
I get up and creep over to my window. Peeking out, I see Cara looking up at me with her big eyes and a hopeful look on her place. We’ve been playing this damn game where we seek each other out for some mind-blowing sex, only to end up hating and talking shit to each other afterwards. It’s pointless. I really need to break this shit off. I’m sleeping with my best friend’s girlfriend. I’ll never forgive myself for this shit because at the end of the day it’s just so wrong.
But then Cara walks into my line of sight and I forget every word I’ve been telling myself.
Her voice is seductive, with her silky-smooth tone running over me like a milky tune.
Her looks are alluring. I’ve kept the blinds shut over my eyes throughout the years. I’ve honestly never even really looked at Cara before. Not until that first night. It’s like she pulled the string, up the blinds went, and there she was. Standing there and staring at me with intoxication filling up her eyes and her body was like a five-foot bomb, exploding right in front of my eyes. Kaboom, there’s no going back. I see what pulled Logan in, because I’m pulled in by that same damn string.
Her touch… her touch does something to me. The first night we fucked she touched the scars on my back like they were her scars. Like she was there in that room with me when the pain was inflicted. It made me want to crumble into a pile of rubble at her feet. Let her pick up the pieces and glue me back together. I would have welcomed it, but the reality is that I’m nothing but poison and allowing someone like Cara to see the filth that I am is unacceptable.
“Hello? Are you going to come open the door or just stand there like a fuck head?” Cara barks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Oh yeah, and her attitude? Makes me want to slap her ass and stitch her mouth up. She’s a fucking spitfire and she’s lucky that she makes it out of my house alive somedays.
I nod at her and duck away from my window, walking towards the front door.
I glance at the couch and see my mom slumped over on the side of th
e couch with a crack pipe in her hands. Her mouth hangs open with drool trailing out the side of her mouth. I’d be worried about her not breathing except the small twitch every few seconds gives away to her life. And her high.
I sigh, disgusted, and go to unlock the front door. There stands Cara, standing in the dark with a smile on her face. The light in her eyes sparks back every so often, and I feel guilty that it brings me pleasure I might be the cause of that light. The death that lingers in her gaze because of Logan makes him never too far from my thoughts.
Will the death always be there?
Will I always be second place to my best friend?
I shake my head and nod at her to follow me into my room. She immediately glances at the couch, and frowns when she sees the drugs laid out in front of my mom. She never speaks of what she sees, always keeps her mouth shut. But the questions blare from her like a horn. So many questions.
She never speaks about it though. Quiet as a mouse.
Once we get to my room, I shut the door behind Cara and walk to my bed, falling back on it and tucking my hands behind my head. I don’t say much to Cara, and I think she’s finally growing used to it. She does most of the talking. Not surprising with her loud ass.
I stare at her with my eyes hooded. I haven’t seen her in a few days.
“What’s up with you?” Cara walks up to the edge of the bed and presses her knee into it, smiling down at me.
I shrug, giving her a small smirk. Since Logan died, I’ve spiraled into a darkness that I haven’t been in since my sister died. I didn’t think I’d ever get out alive this time. But ever so slowly, limb by limb, Cara has been dragging me out a little at a time.