Deadbeat

by Amy Sparling

  "The Rolling Stones? Good choice," says an unfamiliar voice next to me. I nod. "Thanks."

  "I wouldn't have pegged you for a classic rock fan."

  Turning to face her, I smile. "I'm not," I say. "I just like The Rolling Stones."

  She pushes a flat-ironed strand of blond hair behind her ear and asks, "Can I buy you a drink?"

  My brain gets foggy, struggling to find an answer to a question I'm not entirely sure I heard right. "Girls don't buy guys drinks," I say. She shoves a quarter into the jukebox and chooses a song from the Hits list. Lady Gaga.

  "Well you don't look old enough to buy me a drink." Her eyes survey me, down to my shoes, then back up to my eyes. "You could still pay for it though," she says, holding out her hand to me. She's wearing smoky eye makeup just like that chick Austin was chatting up, but this girl's hotter so I go with it. Reaching into my back pocket, I hand her some cash – thankful that I actually have some since I hadn't worked much lately.

  "Thanks," she coos into my ear before disappearing into the crowd. Is she going to take my money and run? This is weird, maybe kind of wrong? But just in case she is trustworthy, I stay where I am so she can find me.

  She does return. She hands me a beer and I drink it like I know what I'm doing. This shit is gross and burns my throat but – oh well.

  "So what's your name, kid?" She takes a sip from her beer and her eyes don't leave mine. It's hot.

  "Jeremy."

  "I'm Sarah," she says and I nod because shaking hands in a pool hall is not cool.

  "So are you a senior?"

  "Yep, and you?"

  "I'm twenty-one."

  "So, are you in college or something?"

  "Hell no, I just float."

  "Float?"

  She nods. "Yeah. You gonna float me over to meet your friends?" I follow her gaze and see Austin and the guys starting a game of pool at a table across the room. She must have been staring at me a while if she knew who I was here with. My ego inflates as I walk her over to our table.

  "There he is," Austin says when he sees me. We fist-bump and I introduce him to Sarah.

  My friends stare at me like I'm some kind of cougar sex god. She offers to buy everyone alcohol and they fork over cash like it's going toward their last meal. When she goes to the bar, everyone congratulates me.

  "Damn, she's hot," Austin says. "How'd you get her attention?"

  "She came up to me." I tell him how she approached me at the jukebox and bought me a beer.

  Chris shoves into our conversation, holding out his phone. "Jeremy, there's a problem."

  "What is it?" I ask, assuming he has some kind of personal problem and wonder why he's telling me first. I hardly know the guy, except for the fact that he's dating Claire.

  "I told Claire we were hanging out up here tonight, and well – she told Elisa."

  I don't get it at first. "So?"

  "So, they are on their way up here." He watches my blank expression, then adds, "Like – now."

  Sarah walks up holding a pitcher of beer and a handful of Styrofoam cups and then it hits me. "Oh shit!" I scramble to find a place to throw away my beer. Wish I had gum to mask the alcohol on my breath. Elisa will kill me if she knows I'm drinking.

  She'll kill me if she sees Sarah here.

  "I have to go," I say, trying to mask my horror.

  "Aww, why?" Sarah asks, grabbing my belt when I try to turn away.

  "I'm sorry, it's an emergency."

  She slides a pink-jeweled Iphone out of her back pocket. "Give me your number."

  I recite my number quickly, not caring if she doesn't press the right buttons. Then I wave bye to the guys, who need no explanation, and bolt.

  It's too late. Claire's car is parked next to mine. Fuck. My. Life.

  Looking at the ground, I walk casually, hands in my pockets – as if I hadn't seen her car. I have nothing to hide, right? So why do I feel like I'm hiding something? Both doors open on Claire's Honda, and my girlfriend calls my name. I look up and around, faking like I have no idea where the voice came from.

  "Jeremy," she says again, running up to me. She's smiling, so I guess we aren't fighting anymore.

  "Hey!" I say, lighting up as if I've just ran into an old friend who I haven't seen in years. Claire and I say hello to each other and then Elisa is at my side, throwing her arms around me. I hug her back with one arm.

  "So what are you girls up to? I was just headed home," I say, lying through my teeth.

  "Home?" Elisa asks, looking to Claire and then back at me, and my boy genetics make me wonder if they have just shared some kind of secret message that only they can decipher. "Why?" she asks, frowning as if her entire night is now ruined.

  "This place is just so boring." I shrug. "Austin forced me to go tonight, but this really isn't my scene."

  Elisa seems to buy my excuse, which is awesome because I'd like to avoid a verbal lashing until we're alone. Some drunken guys stumble through the parking lot and whistle at Claire. She tells them to fuck off.

  "I want to go see Chris," Claire says. "Elisa, are you still hanging with me tonight, or…?"

  Elisa grabs the pocket on my jeans and sways back and forth gently. "I don't know, I'd rather hang out with Jeremy if he wants to." Her eyes look up at mine, anxious for my approval.

  If her pregnant belly wasn't reminding me of our current situation, I might smile – pull her toward me and kiss her passionately. But as things are now, I'm leery to take her with me. What if she's just putting up a nice front but plans on lashing into me for being out with the guys instead of with her? Why haven't we spoken in almost two weeks?

  I could suggest that we all go back inside and play pool, but then Sarah would be there and it'd be awkward. I decide to act nice and play whatever game Elisa is playing. "Of course you can go with me, duh." I kiss her forehead and it smells sweet.

  We say goodbye to Claire and then I open the passenger door for Elisa. The second I climb inside and shut my door, her mood changes. She doesn't say anything at first, but I can feel the air change from thin, regular, breathable air to thick and suffocating. I put the truck in drive and start to pull out of the parking lot, not knowing where I'm supposed to drive.

  "So, the pool hall? Is this what you're doing now that you've cut me out of your life?"

  Shadows from streetlights and buildings dance across her face. I laugh, shaking my head. "You're not cut out of my life."

  "Clearly, I am."

  "I texted you last, and you never wrote back." I turn on the air conditioning because I know she hates it. "So it looks like you're the one doing the life-cutting."

  She crosses her arms. "The pool hall?"

  "You were there too. What's that about?"

  "I only went because Claire found out that you were there. And I wanted to see for myself if you were really out partying while I was stuck at home being fat and pregnant."

  "About that- baby you aren't fat. I'm so sorry I said that."

  She ignores me. "The fucking pool hall. Why were you there?"

  I shrug, lips tight. "Why would you care?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because the father of my child is out in a trashy place like that instead of working to take care of his kid."

  A shudder runs through me. She knows I haven't been working?

  "I'm going to start work soon, so chill."

  Her purse falls to the floorboard. "What? You haven't started work yet?"

  I shake my head and stare at the road. "Dammit, Jeremy. This baby is due in twelve weeks. How are we going to get enough money by then?"

  "Three months, wow." It doesn't seem like it's been that long. My stomach begins to burn with worry. In three months, I'll be a dad. There will be a tiny, little baby we have to take care of, and Elisa and I still can't get along. I don't think I want this baby, but there's nothing to do about it now.

  Her hand reaches over and lands on my leg. She leans her head on my shoulder and I fight back the whiplash her mood sw
ings are giving me. Is she pissed or is she being nice?

  "Where am I going?"

  "I don't know. Wherever you want."

  "I don't want to go anywhere."

  "Then take me home," she says, staring out the window.

  "Why are you being so weird?"

  "I have something to show you. But, now that you're going out and being wild, I don't know if I want to show it to you." She picks up her purse and sets it neatly in her lap. A block away from her house, I think about driving around some more but her bitchy attitude isn't convincing me to spend any more time with her than necessary.

  "I'm just going to take you home, okay?"

  She nods. "Yeah, sure. I guess that's fine since you hate being around me."

  "I don't hate being around you! I don't know what I feel around you anymore. All we do is fight, and you aren't helping that at all."

  "You aren't helping it either."

  I raise my arms and slam them onto the steering wheel. This ridiculous argument isn't getting us anywhere. We sit in silence and a moment later, I park in her driveway, instinctively cutting the engine.

  "Don't you want to know what I have to show you?" she asks.

  "Sure," I answer, half-heartedly. She digs around her purse and pulls out an envelope. From it, she takes black and white photos. Ultrasounds.

  "I have some photos of the baby, you can see the head and everything." She holds one out to me. I turn on the cargo light to see, but don't take it from her. I don't really want to hold it. If I hold it, then that makes it more real. She points to a round blur. "That's the head." She tucks the photo behind the stack and shows me the next one. "And that's the foot and the toes."

  "Wow, toes? Already?"

  She laughs. "Jeremy, babies are born premature at six months and they survive. So yeah, there are toes already."

  I look at the photo, see the grainy little toes. Elisa holds the photos like they are the actual baby itself. But it just looks like black and white paper to me. I feel nothing.

  And it bothers me that I feel nothing.

  "That's…cool," I say.

  She swoops them to her chest, holding them dear to her like a special secret. "Do you want to know the gender?"

  "No way. I thought we were keeping that secret?"

  "Well I got tired of waiting, and I'm really bored without you coming over anymore, so I just couldn't keep it a secret any longer. I had to know."

  I think for a moment. Do I really care if it's a boy or a girl? Whatever gender it is, my life is ruined regardless. I hardly see why it matters.

  "Well? Do you want to know? Or do you want to guess first?" She's smiling bigger than I've seen in weeks. And I feel really bad for how I'm about to let her down.

  "I don't want to know."

  "Why?"

  "I just don't really care either way."

  "What?" Her voice breaks. And mine kind of breaks too. "I'm sorry."

  She puts the photos back into their envelope in her purse.

  "Do you care about us anymore, Jeremy?"

  "Of course," I say. Quickly. Too quickly to mean anything.

  She takes a deep breath, leans over to kiss me on the cheek. And then my phone vibrates from the center console. When it gets a text message, it lights up and shows the message for a few seconds before going dark again. That's what it does now, right under Elisa's nose. And we both see it when it flashes.

  Hey sexy! Why'd you leave the party so soon? Xoxo- Sarah

  Chapter 15

  I stay true to the promise Elisa forced me to make, and I don't talk to Sarah for the next few weeks. Elisa doesn't talk to me much either, but I think we're still together. It's not like we have any other choice.

  I pull up to her house after basketball practice. The only time she had talked to me today was when she made a thirty-second call asking me to bring her Cheetos and a peach tea. Her stomach is bigger, but still not anywhere close to Austin's mom's. I ask her if she thinks everything is normal in that department.

  "What department? You mean in my womb?" She pats her belly and then pulls open the bag of Cheetos.

  "The whole baby growing and developing department. Austin's mom is six months along too, and she's really big." I reach over her and grab a Cheeto from the bag. She swats my hand away.

  "Mine. I'm eating for two."

  "I bought them."

  "Oh, excuse me for asking you to get me food."

  "This doesn't need to become a fight." All we fucking do is fight. I haven't been coming over to her house after school because of it. Elisa and her mom think it's because I'm working.

  I only work on the weekends but they don't need to know that.

  Mrs. Hardy emerges, holding a pamphlet for Alcoholics Anonymous. She sees me staring at it and shoves it into her pocket. "Hi there, Jeremy. It's been a while since you've been over."

  "Yes it has, ma'am. I was just bringing Elisa some junk food."

  "What have I told you about eating healthy?" Mrs. Hardy scolds Elisa, who then turns to me and gives me an evil glare.

  "That's why I had to go behind your back, Mom."

  Mrs. Hardy puts an arm around our shoulders and squeezes, bringing the three of us uncomfortably close together. "Are you staying for dinner?"

  "No, I can't stay long," I say.

  "That's right, you probably have to get back to work, huh?"

  "Yep," I lie.

  "Elisa and I were over by the shop yesterday and we were going to stop by and say hello but your truck wasn't there." They both look at me now, expecting some kind of explanation.

  "I was probably out running errands for them. I'm the new guy so that chore falls to me." It's a brilliant lie. And they buy it.

  Mr. Hardy yells something from inside the house and Mrs. Hardy runs off to tend to him, leaving us alone in the driveway. The silence is almost too awkward to bear. I wonder how it's possible that our first date went more smoothly and with less awkwardness than this conversation.

  "Your birthday is tomorrow," I say.

  "So it is." She's staring at the ground. Her hands are hidden in her hoody's front pocket.

  "Do you have any plans?"

  She shakes her head. "No one gives a shit about me."

  "I do. Dinner and a movie?"

  A smile starts at the corner of her mouth. I continue, "And perhaps a lottery ticket to celebrate the big one-eight."

  She throws her arms around me, burying her face into my chest. I breathe in deeply, taking in the scent of her perfume. Happy moments with Elisa feel a thousand times stronger than the bad moments.

  I pick her up around six the next day. She meets me at her door wearing jeans and her pink hoody. Her hair is brushed, but the rest of her looks like she's just woken up.

  "Did you forget we're going out tonight?"

  "No, of course I remember."

  "Are you wearing that?" I ask, not masking my shock. She looks at down at herself, stretches out her arms and shrugs. "What am I supposed to wear? Nothing fits."

  "That's fine," I say, taking her hand. "You just usually get all dressed up for things like this." It's a nice way of saying she looks like shit, and she knows it.

  "It's my birthday, and I'll look like a frumpy pregnant teen if I want."

  We walk to my truck – well I walk, she waddles. My first instinct is to point it out and make fun of her, but in the spirit of giving her a good birthday, I say, "Doesn't matter what you wear, you're always beautiful."

  She shakes her head, climbing into my truck when I hold open the door for her. "People at school call me fat behind my back. I've heard them." She hangs her head and pouts and it's adorable – fat cheeks and all. "Stop smiling!" she sneers.

  "Sorry." As we drive out of her neighborhood, things are pleasant for about thirty seconds until she snaps at me.

  "Put on your seatbelt."

  In the least threatening way possible, I say, "Do you have to bark orders at me all the time?"

  She crosses her arms, a sta
nce she's grown fond of lately. "I'm just looking out for your safety since you refuse to do it."

  A million rude comebacks find themselves on the tip of my tongue but instead of unleashing them, I bite down, tell myself to chill and try to have a good night.

  The restaurant is nice, but our waitress is an overweight, haggard bitch who can't stop staring at my girlfriend's stomach. Elisa doesn't seem to notice but I sure as fuck do. Her disapproving looks are really pissing me off. She brings our drinks to the table and takes another sidelong, disgusted glance at Elisa and I lose it.

  "Yes, she is pregnant. Thank you for staring so much," I spit out with venom. Elisa gasps. The waitress stutters some sort of apology and hurries off to hide in the kitchen. Elisa leans forward, her hands flat on the table. "I can't believe you just said that. It was rude."

  "What's rude is how that bitch kept staring at you and making these looks like you were total trash."

  "I am trash, Jeremy. I'm a pregnant teenager, have you forgotten?" She raises her menu so that I can only see her eyes. And they are hurt.

  "That's not trash. There are tons of teen moms every year. And she's like forty years old and still a waitress, so she has no room to judge you."

  "My mom was a waitress a couple years ago. Do you want to talk shit about her too?"

  "God, Elisa…" I grab my hair with both hands, pulling it back hard so that it hurts. The pain is somehow relieving. Why does she insist on turning everything around on me? "I insulted the waitress because she insulted you. You don't have to bring your mom into this."

  Lowering her menu, she looks at me for a moment. Her eyes shift from my left eye to my right one, and back again. "I'm going to throw up."

  "Don't be dramatic," I groan.

  "No – seriously." She pushes herself out of the booth and darts to the bathroom. I stare at the door marked Senoritas, wishing I could be in there with her.

  Dinner would be a waste because Elisa no longer wants to eat after having puked up her guts a few minutes ago. So we leave after appetizers.

  "Are you sure you're feeling well enough to see a movie?"