by Lane Hart
“Huh?” I ask.
“My brother and sister,” she explains. “I never meant for your parents to foster them, but it was the only choice since I’m still in school. Once I graduate, though, I’ll get a job, hopefully earning enough for the state to let them come live with me, on my own.”
“What about your parents?” I ask her.
“Deadbeats who aren’t ever around.”
“So how long were you taking care of them on your own before they came to live here?”
“About three years.”
“You went to school and raised them alone for three years?” I repeat in disbelief.
“Yep. It wasn’t easy, but I just couldn’t let the state take them. So, I worked my ass off to make sure we had food and a place to live.”
“You didn’t think they would’ve been better off with another family?” I ask.
“I knew they would’ve been better off with pretty much any other family,” she responds. “But I couldn’t risk not being with Matt and Mandy or the two of them getting separated. Mandy would’ve cried herself to sleep every night. Matt too. Who am I kidding? I probably wouldn’t have slept a wink worrying about where they were and if someone was hurting them…”
“Hurting them?” I say in confusion.
“Yeah, you know beating them or-or sexually assaulting them. There are a lot of horrible people in the world.”
“Right,” I agree, even though I had never really thought much about all of that. You don’t hear about physical or sexual abuse in my social circle.
“Make sure you get a thorough nationwide criminal record done for the adoptive parents you pick,” Maddie tells me.
“Do you think I’m making a mistake?” I ask her.
“You mean your decision to put the baby up for adoption?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t say,” she says with a shrug. “Only you know what the right decision is in your situation. It would be hard for me to judge unless I were in your shoes.”
“So, say my brother knocked you up, but he was just a one-night stand. What would you do?”
“I’m not sure. Seriously, I have no idea what I would do,” Maddie responds. “And if you’re asking me about this, then are you sure that you’re making the right decision?” she asks.
“I’m about eighty percent sure that I am…” I remark.
“Well, you probably need to be about ninety-nine-point-nine percent sure before the baby is born,” she tells me. “The house may be full now, but there will be plenty of room in a few months…”
“It’s not just a crowded house. I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a mother, you know?”
“Believe me, I know from experience that not every woman is cut out to be a mother. You would think my mom would’ve been more careful after getting knocked up with me, but she didn’t or couldn’t learn from her mistakes.”
“I never want this baby to think for even a second that they were a mistake, even if they were for me and Blake,” I explain.
“Well, good luck,” Maddie says. “Trust your gut, and everything will work out.”
“Right,” I agree despite my doubts about that.
Blake
I park my car on the curb just because I’m usually running late for school in the mornings and it’s quicker than getting it out of the garage. Also, my dad hates when I don’t shelter my Porsche, so that’s another reason why I leave it out.
On the way into the house, I stop and grab the mail from the mailbox, shuffling through the envelopes as I walk up the sidewalk until I get to a big, flat white one with a return address from Duke.
“Holy shit,” I mutter aloud as I rip into it and pull out the congratulatory letter and booklet. Not only did I get in, which wasn’t really a question since I’m a legacy and I have a 4.0 GPA, the letter says they’re also willing to offer me a spot on the football team.
This is the news I’ve been waiting months to get, and now, for some reason, I don’t even feel like celebrating.
That probably has to do with the fact that I just spent the afternoon talking about giving up my kid to strangers, which is significantly more important than a sport.
Still, I need to tell someone my good news. Instead of going into my house, I hoof it on foot two blocks over to Royal’s.
The houses get bigger as I go until I’m standing in front of Royal’s three-story mammoth brick home.
“Hey, man. What’s up?” Royal asks when he answers the door.
“I got into Duke,” I tell him.
“Nice! I bet your old man is proud,” he says with only a hint of jealousy.
Fuck. While I was buried underneath my own pile of shit, I forgot all about the fact that Royal’s only option for the future is the local community college since he doesn’t have any SAT scores, a requirement for pretty much every university.
“Sorry,” I tell him as I take a step back toward the front steps with my hands clenching the mail in my hands. “You probably don’t want to hear about this.”
“Get your ass in here,” he huffs, holding open the door wider.
“Are you sure?”
“Just because I fucked up my future doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for my best friend,” he replies, sounding genuine, so I slip past him and into the pristine house that looks more like a designer staged set than a home. “So, is Duke it? Are you going to accept?” Royal asks, distracting me from the museum of excessive wealth. No wonder we don’t spend more time hanging out here. I wouldn’t want to mar the perfection with a fingerprint.
“I’m not sure yet,” I start to say, just as Mrs. Fitzpatrick sweeps into the room wearing a white dress, her brown hair twisted up at the back of her head in some sort of do that doesn’t look like it would move an inch in a hurricane.
“Blake! How are you? It’s been too long,” she says with a bright white smile.
“Hi, Mrs. Fitzpatrick,” I reply.
“Would you boys like some hot chocolate or maybe some apple cider? I could make you some fresh cinnamon bread.”
“No, thanks. I’m fine,” I assure her.
“Chill, Mom,” Royal mutters with a shake of his head. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I follow him up one of the two staircases to the second floor and into his bedroom that doesn’t look like it belongs in the immaculate home. A layer of clothes litters the floor so you can’t even see the hardwood floors. His bed is unmade with sheets hanging half off one side. Books are stacked up around the bookcase rather than in it.
“How do you keep your mom from overhauling your room?” I ask him.
“I’ve got a padlock for my door.”
“No shit?” I say with a puff of laughter because I honestly don’t know if he’s serious or joking.
“So, Duke?” he says, sinking down into the computer chair in front of a desk filled with papers and various electronic devices – a laptop, his cell phone, a Nintendo Switch handheld console and a few PlayStation controllers.
“Maybe,” I say when I take a seat on the bench at the foot of his bed and toss my stack of mail down beside me.
“Maybe?” he repeats.
“They offered me a spot on the football team, but you and I both know what that means. I’ll be riding the bench all four years. May as well be the water boy.”
“Riding the bench at Duke is better than nothing, right? At least you’ll still get to go to all the games. The jersey alone will get you all the pussy you could ever want.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “But, um, I was thinking about applying to Hawthorne.”
“Hawthorne?” Royal says with his nose wrinkled. “Why would you want to go to that snooze fest? They don’t even have a football team!”
“I don’t know. It’s just a thought.”
“A ridiculous thought that has to do with a former friend’s knocked up sister?” he asks. “You don’t really think you have a chance with Caroline, do you? I mean, I’m no expert in women, but I’m pretty sure that makin
g her go through an unwanted pregnancy doesn’t exactly spark any romantic feelings. She’s never gonna let you touch her again, bro.”
“I’ve touched her every day for the past week,” I blurt out without thinking.
“What?” Royal snaps, his jaw gaping. “Are you fucking with me?”
“No. But you can’t tell anyone, especially not Aric.”
“Wow,” he mutters while shaking his head. “How the hell did you pull that off?”
“It was her idea, actually,” I admit. “We’ve been fooling around since the day I found out.”
“So you’re fucking her?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you actually think that’s reason enough to throw your dreams away to follow her to Hawthorne in the fall?” he asks.
“Duke wasn’t my dream. It’s my dad’s,” I remind him.
“What about playing football? In the summer you said all you wanted was to go to a college where you could keep playing.”
“I know,” I reply. “But maybe it’s time for me to accept the fact that football is just a sport and now it’s over for me.”
“Oh my god,” he groans as he tips his head back and runs his fingers through his auburn hair. “You think you’re in love with her, you stupid, stupid fool.”
“I didn’t say that!” I shout at him.
“You may as well have!” Royal huffs when he looks at me again. “You were just supposed to fuck her the night of your birthday, not get her pregnant and think she’s your soulmate or some shit. All I was trying to do was fix the mess between you and Aric and help you finally get rid of your virginity!”
“What are you saying?” I ask in confusion.
“I invited Caroline to your party, convinced her to wear her cheerleading uniform that I knew you loved, and then I told her to go up to your room!”
“You-you set us up?” I say in disbelief. “Did you text Aric to come over too?” I ask because I know I didn’t. I couldn’t ever find any texts I sent to him when I finally did find my phone downstairs that night.
“Yeah, I did, then I deleted the message on your phone,” Royal admits. “Eye for an eye or whatever. It was supposed to help you and Aric make amends! I didn’t know you and Caroline would get high together and fuck up your entire future!”
“Royal, is everything okay in there?” his mom calls through the door.
“Fuck off, Mom!” he yells back like the asshole he is.
This whole time I thought Caroline actually wanted me. That she came up to my room, to my party, to see me because she wanted to, when all along Royal gave her a push. No, he basically gave her a shove in the hopes she would sleep with me.
“I didn’t ask you to do any of that shit!” I tell Royal when I get to my feet and scoop up my mail. “Now it’s your fault I fucked her, and it’s your fault Caroline got pregnant.”
“Don’t you dare try to put that shit on me! Even virgins are supposed to know they have to wrap it up!” he counters.
“Fuck you,” I tell him because it’s his fault I wasn’t prepared. I didn’t have any condoms in my room that night, and I had no clue I would end up losing my virginity after the foul ass mood I had been in. Now I realize that Royal fucked Caroline and me both that night.
Chapter 24
Blake
I haven’t spoken to Royal or Caroline in days. I’m too pissed at him and at myself for stupidly thinking that Caroline and I were brought together by fate or whatever.
No wonder she’s so set on adoption. She probably didn’t even want to sleep with me that night, and it only happened because of Royal’s meddling.
I feel like such an idiot for thinking there was something between us when there clearly wasn’t. Caroline is only sleeping with me lately because of the limitations of her circumstances and the pregnancy hormones. Not that I’ve got naked with her in the past week, and she sure as hell hasn’t called or texted asking if she can come over.
I’m so lost in my head, that I don’t even notice my dad is home until I start to walk through the living room on the way to the stairs. He’s stretched out on the sofa in a wrinkled suit, dress shoes off and a business magazine open and draped over his face.
“What are you doing home?” I ask him.
“Trying to sleep,” he mumbles. If I had to guess, he was planning to head upstairs to sleep but couldn’t manage to drag his drunk ass up the steps.
“Well, since you’re home, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“What?” he asks.
“First off, where have you been staying?” I question him.
“Here and there,” he mutters.
“Here and there where?”
“Wherever I happen to be when I fall asleep.”
“You mean in whoever’s bed you happen to pass out in?” I ask.
“Maybe.”
“Does it make you feel any better about mom cheating on you?”
He’s silent for several long seconds before he says, “Sometimes.”
“Well, congrats, Romeo.”
“What did you want to tell me?” he asks with a huff.
“I got into Duke,” I say because deep down there’s some part of me that’s still the little boy who wants his daddy’s approval. Which is stupid as fuck and why I add, “Oh, and guess what? You’re going to be a grandfather.”
That has him finally sitting up on the sofa, causing the magazine to slide down his chest and land on the floor. “What the hell?” he asks. For the first time, I can actually see his face. His eyes that are the same blue as mine are red and swollen, his face is unshaven, like a full-on black beard as if he hasn’t shaved in weeks. I’ve never seen him with even a shadow of facial hair before. If not for the wrinkled dress shirt, silk tie and thousand-dollar suit, he would look like a homeless bum.
“I knocked up Caroline Prince,” I finally tell him.
“Are you fucking with me?” he asks through narrowed eyes.
“No. But, ah, she’s not keeping it…” I tack on.
“No? Is she getting an abortion?”
“No. She’s having the baby and putting it up for adoption,” I explain. “Her parents are pretty upset at her and especially at me.”
He snorts and says, “Screw the Princes. They should’ve known what that heathen of theirs was capable of. I guess the daughter’s a slut too, just like her brother.”
“Caroline’s not a slut!” I tell him, wanting to knock him out for saying such a thing.
“She your first?” he asks, and I don’t answer. “Trust me, son, you weren’t her first. Girls like her are in a whole other league than us when it comes to sex, spreading their legs for anyone and everyone.”
“What are you talking about? You don’t even know Caroline!”
“I know girls like her.”
“Oh yeah? Who?” I ask.
“Doesn’t matter. My point is, don’t fall for their hot bodies and big, brown eyes. Every time they spread their legs, it’s a trap. Just like the trap I fell into with your mother.”
“You referring to when you knocked up Mom while she was still in high school?” I grit out because Caroline doesn’t have brown eyes. Neither does my mother…
“Yeah. That.”
“So I was part of the trap?”
“I married her, didn’t I?” he asks. “You weren’t born a bastard. And I gave her everything she wanted. But just like in high school, she couldn’t keep her fucking legs closed!”
“Wow. Thanks a lot for that pep talk, Dad.”
When I start to walk away, too disgusted by him to say another word, he calls out, “Giving the kid up is the right decision! Don’t try and force what isn’t there just because you knocked her up. Sooner or later someone was going to. That’s what always happens to those types of girls. You were just the unlucky bastard this time, so don’t make the same mistake I did!”
Mistake meaning me. I was a mistake; one he wishes was never born or was given to someone else to raise so he wou
ldn’t have had to marry my mother. His words make me feel awful, like I’m responsible for what the two of them did. It wasn’t my fault he didn’t use a condom, or if he did, then it didn’t work, just like it’s not our baby’s fault that Caroline and I weren’t careful. I don’t know shit about being a father, but I’m certain Caroline is right about this. I never want him or her to think for even a second that they were a mistake or unwanted, when the truth is, that’s all they really are.
“Why don’t you go drown your sorrows in a bar or in some slut’s cunt?” I tell my dad. “You’re fucking pathetic! No wonder mom cheated on you!”
“Oh, screw you!” he says when he gets to his feet and then immediately falls back down.
Shaking my head at him, I go upstairs to my room and shut and lock the door. Then, I pull my phone out of my pocket and call Caroline for the first time in almost a week.
“Hello?” she answers.
“You were right.”
“About what?” she asks.
“The adoption. It’s the right thing to do. I wasn’t completely sure, but I’ve been thinking about that night. Then, my dad came home drunk off his ass, running his mouth, telling me how I was a mistake he regrets. I don’t want our kid to ever hear that shit.”
“Oh, Blake, I’m so sorry,” Caroline says. “I can’t believe he said that to you. Do you want me to come over?”
“Ah, yeah, actually. I mean, if you want to?” I tell her. “I can send you a message when he leaves. It’s not like he’ll stick around or anything. Today was the first time I’ve seen him in weeks.”
“Jeez,” she says. “Where has he been staying?”
“No clue. With a different woman every night? Who knows? I don’t even fucking care anymore.”
“Have you talked to your mom?”
“No. She called for a few weeks after everything happened, but I wouldn’t answer. Eventually she stopped calling. She just gave up. I wish they would’ve put me up for adoption,” I admit.
“I-I’m sure that’s not true,” Caroline says. “Things were good before the summer, right?”