by Lane Hart
“Hey, you okay?” Blake asks when he opens the passenger door for me. “Your face went from happy to see me to annoyed and then to sad in, like, ten seconds flat.”
“I’m fine,” I tell him as I duck into the seat, hating that he can read my face that well. “I was just annoyed and sad thinking about how much I miss my car.”
“I told you that I could get a ride with Sophie or Aric if you want to borrow my car during the day,” he says while I buckle my seatbelt.
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Okay,” he mutters in a tone that says he knows I’m not before he shuts the door and walk around to the driver side.
Blake
I don’t know if it’s the hormones or what, but Caroline seems to be having even more mood swings than normal today. But of course, she won’t tell me what’s really going on, which is so fucking frustrating.
Like when we got to the doctor’s office, checked in and the nurse called her back. I had stood up to go with her, but Caroline turned to me and said, “You can just wait here.”
“I didn’t drive you here just to wait in the lobby,” I had told her simply. “Can’t I at least go back for the ultrasound?”
“Fine,” she had grumbled like I’m a huge pain in her ass.
She didn’t say another word to me after the nurse left us alone in the exam room with an enormous flat screen mounted on one of the walls. And while I’m tempted to ask her what’s going on, I bite my tongue and keep my mouth shut because I’m afraid she’ll throw me out before I get to see my kid.
The knock on the door half an hour or so later is very, very welcome. “Hi, I’m Kristen and I’ll be doing your ultrasound today. Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“That’s okay. We don’t have anywhere else to be,” Caroline says sweetly to the stranger. Or maybe she’s being sarcastic. It’s seriously hard to tell with her.
“So, are you ready to get started?” the ultrasound tech asks when she flips off the overhead lights on the wall, turning the room dark except for the glow from the computer screen next to the exam table where she takes a seat.
“Yeah, let’s get this over with,” Caroline replies, lifting her shirt over her bump that’s now almost the size of a bowling ball. And like usual, when she shows any bit of skin, my palms itch wanting to touch her, especially her belly that is usually off limits when we’re fooling around in bed.
The tech squeezes some jelly-looking stuff on the center of the bump and then places a plastic wand thingy on Caroline’s belly. Immediately, a black and white image appears on the flat screen in front of us. Oh! So that’s not just a random television.
“Wow. That’s the baby?” I ask, able to even make out the curve of its forehead and even the tiny button nose.
“That’s the baby,” Kristen responds with a smile. “I’ll just need to take a few measurements first, and then I should be able to tell you the gender.”
“No!” Caroline says with a shake of her head. She leans her head back on the exam table and stares at the ceiling rather than the baby who is actually moving around on the screen this very second, trying to jam its tiny fist into its mouth, which is fucking adorable even if it’s a hazy, black shadow. “We don’t want to know the sex.”
“We don’t?” I say in surprise, because I do want to know if it’s a girl or boy.
“No,” she repeats while the tech looks between us a few times before her eyes go back to the image on her computer screen.
“Why not?” I ask.
“Because it doesn’t matter,” Caroline says simply. “It’s not our baby.”
The tech looks up at me again hearing that. “It is our baby, but we’re putting it up for adoption,” I explain to her. “And the adoptive parents we pick may want to know if it’s a boy or girl,” I point out to Caroline.
“Too bad because I don’t want to know,” she says stubbornly with her jaw clenched tight.
Now her prickly mood this afternoon is starting to make sense. I don’t have to be psychic to realize exactly what she’s doing by avoiding looking at our kid and finding out the gender. The less she knows about the baby, the harder it will be for her to get attached to it and then give it up.
And I get it.
I don’t want to give it up either, but Caroline’s right, the baby deserves better than the life we can give it. Some days she barely tolerates me, and the days that she doesn’t hate me it’s when I give her multiple orgasms. The only thing Caroline likes about me is the sex because her hormones are surging or whatever and I have an available dick, fingers or tongue, depending on her mood.
“Would you like a photo to take home?” the tech asks, and Caroline shakes her head again, and even in the darkness I catch a glimmer in her eyes.
“I would like one,” I speak up and say.
“Blake!” Caroline huffs.
“This is our son or daughter, and it may be the only picture I ever have of them,” I explain as the tech hands me a printout and then starts wiping up the goop from Caroline’s stomach with a paper towel.
“The doctor will be in to see you shortly,” Kristen says before she leaves the room.
“Are you still sure about this?” I ask Caroline once we’re alone.
“About what?” she asks when she lowers her shirt.
“About the adoption. It seems like you’re trying hard to avoid knowing anything about the kid.”
“And it seems like you’re getting too involved,” she retorts. “We’re making the right decision.”
“I know,” I agree. “I was just checking. Promise me that you’ll tell me if you change your mind, okay?”
“Okay,” she agrees with a nod. “You can go wait in the lobby now. I don’t want you in here when my feet are in stirrups.”
“Yeah, all right,” I mutter when I get up and walk out of the exam room.
Chapter 28
Blake
March
“Wow, you’ve been home every day this week,” I say to my father when he comes in the garage door with a stack of envelopes in his hand.
“Apparently my son needs someone around to make sure he doesn’t knock up any other girls,” he mutters. “Why are you still getting letters from colleges?”
“Because I haven’t made a decision about what I’m doing in the fall yet,” I respond, annoyed that he disappears for months and then has the audacity to suddenly come back and start acting like a dad again.
“What did you just say?” he asks. “You’re going to Duke in the fall. They even want you to play football for them, right?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I just found out that I got into Hawthorne too.” Sure, I could go to Duke and ride the bench all four years. It’s not a scholarship, but it’s something, I guess. Football has always been the most important thing in the world to me. But now? I think I would rather be with Caroline.
“Hawthorne?” my father exclaims. “Why the hell would you want to go there? They don’t even have a football team and you’re a legacy at Duke. It’s where I went and your grandfather.”
“Have you ever considered the fact that I may not want to be an attorney either?” I ask him.
“You’re going to Duke,” he grits out. “End of discussion.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s my decision, so there doesn’t even have to be a discussion with my absentee father.”
“Oh yeah? And who the hell do you think is going to pay your tuition? It sure as shit won’t be your worthless mother.”
“Have you talked to mom lately?” I ask him.
“No. Last I heard from some of the women in the office, she’s living in an apartment with two other divorcees, trying to decide which man they’re going to marry and screw over next. Oh, and your buddy’s family is trying to get her convicted of a long list of shit in criminal court. I hope they win and she gets thrown in jail.”
“What?” I ask in confusion.
“The Princes found an attorney who convinced the DA to charge her wi
th having sex with a minor who was in her custody. It probably won’t stick, but it is fun knowing it’ll make her squirm. Another bonus is that it’s all public record, so everyone will know she cheated on me with a kid.”
A quick search on my phone of the North Carolina court system and her name pulls up the charges that are pending. There are so many that I have to keep scrolling. “Jesus,” I mutter as I put my phone away and head out the door without another word to my father, going straight over to the Princes.
“What’s up?” Aric asks when he answers his front door.
I shove my palms against his chest, pushing him back a few feet. “Why didn’t you tell me you were trying to get my mom locked up?”
“Huh?” he asks.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and show him the screen. “Unless she fucked someone else, I’m guessing you’re the minor in all of these charges. What she did was wrong, I know that. But she’s not a fucking criminal!”
“What charges?” Aric asks when he takes the phone from my hand and scrolls through them.
“What’s going on?” Caroline asks when she comes down the stairs in black leggings and a sweatshirt that was once baggy but is now hugging her very big baby bump. Her chocolate brown waves are in a messy bun, and her eyes blink at us like she just woke up from a nap.
“Your family is trying to send my mom to prison!” I tell her. “Did you know about this?”
“No, of course not. You know I would’ve told you!” she replies.
“Told him?” Aric repeats. “What? Are you two besties or something now that you made a kid together?”
Crap.
Caroline and I both thought it was best if no one knew we were screwing around, especially Aric, and my big ass mouth just outed us.
“Blake has been going with me to doctor and adoption agency appointments,” Caroline quickly interjects, which is of course true, just not the whole truth about how often we see each other.
“You have?” Aric asks. “Why didn’t you tell me about the appointments? I would’ve gone with you.”
“I didn’t want you to miss school,” she says.
Turning to me, he says, “You’ve missed school to go with her?”
“Yeah. Least I can do, right?”
“Yeah it is,” he agrees. “That’s…decent of you.”
“Thanks,” I reply. “So, um, honestly, neither of you know anything about my mom’s charges?”
“No,” they both answer at the same time.
“I was sixteen when it all started, which is the age of consent in the state,” Aric explains. “I didn’t think it was illegal.”
“Apparently your parents do. They had her charged with screwing a minor who was in her custody, meaning every time you came over to my house, she was supposed to be like a parental figure and not a porn star.”
“Oh,” Aric mutters. “I’ll, ah, talk to my parents and try to convince them to drop the charges.”
“Good. Thanks. My dad said it’s a longshot that she’ll get convicted anyway, but still...”
“Your dad’s home this early?” Caroline asks.
“Yep. Almost every day this week. It’s a record,” I respond. “All he does is bitch, though, like about how I haven’t decided on a school yet.”
“You haven’t?” Aric asks. “I thought you were going to play football at Duke.”
“That’s what my dad wants,” I say while stealing a quick glance at Caroline. “And it used to be what I wanted, but now I’m not so sure.”
“So where are you going?” Aric asks.
“No clue yet, but hopefully I’ll figure it out soon,” I tell him. “Anyway, I better get going. Just, talk to your folks, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Aric agrees. “See ya.”
“See ya,” I say to him and Caroline before I slip out their front door.
Chapter 29
Caroline
“You really didn’t know about the charges?” I ask my brother after Blake leaves.
“I really didn’t. Mom and Dad haven’t told me a damn thing about them,” Aric replies. “If they had, I would’ve tried to talk them out of it and at least warned Blake. If he pulled it up on his phone, that means anyone can see it, right?”
“Uh-huh,” I agree. “Everyone is going to know she cheated on his dad.”
“That really sucks. I kept my mouth shut, and only Maddie, Royal and Hannah knew about it at school.”
“Looks like everyone is about to find out,” I tell him.
I really want to talk to Blake alone, to make sure he’s okay with all of this. I just don’t want my brother to know what I’m up to, though.
“I think I’m gonna go put my shoes on and go for a walk,” I say.
“Really? Isn’t it supposed to rain soon?”
“Oh, I’ll be fast,” I say as I jog up the stairs. Finding my phone, I send Blake a text message that I’m coming over and his response is instantaneous, telling me not to.
Me: Why not?
Blake: My dad’s still in the living room and he’s in a mood.
Most nights Blake texts me to come over around ten or eleven, once his dad is in bed asleep, which is when I sneak out of the house. Since I’m invisible to my parents, they haven’t noticed. Or if they have, they haven’t said anything about it to me.
Me: Oh, well, are you okay?
Blake: I’m fine.
Of course he’s not fine. How could he be after just finding out that his mother’s secret is out and she’s facing criminal charges. Even if he hasn’t talked to her in months, she’s still his mother.
Is he telling me the truth, that he doesn’t want me to come over because his dad is there, or is he pissed off at my family and just doesn’t want to see me?
Good thing I have a key, so he can’t really stop me from coming over.
With my phone and keys in hand, I sneak over to the Sullivans’ yard and let myself in through the side entrance. The house is dark and quiet as I make my way through it and up the steps. Blake’s bedroom door is open with just a lamp and the light from the television glowing from inside. He’s lying on his back, tossing a football in the air and catching it.
“Hey,” I say softly to announce my presence.
Blake sits up and looks over at the door, causing the ball to come back down on the side of his face. “Shit! Hey,” he replies. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I was quiet, and I didn’t run into your dad,” I tell him while shutting and locking his bedroom door before I go take a seat on the bed beside him.
“Aric didn’t know about the charges, and I really do think he’ll try to talk my parents into dropping them,” I say.
“Yeah, I hope so,” he agrees. “I’ve got enough shit to worry about without her.”
“Like college?” I’ve been so focused on the pregnancy and adoption that I hadn’t even thought about how this time of year is when seniors start making college plans.
“How did you like Hawthorne?” Blake asks while still twirling the football.
“Hawthorne? It was harder than I expected,” I admit. “I think I was probably in the wrong major. Pre-med was more of a fantasy than a reality.”
“But you’re going back in the fall?”
“Hopefully,” I respond, even though right now August feels like a lifetime away. “If I can figure out what I want to study.” Stealing the football he’s fidgeting with because I need to do something with my hands, I tell him, “There’s no football team at Hawthorne, though, which sucks. I missed cheering, but it’s not the same when you do it inside for basketball.”
“And their basketball team is complete crap,” Blake adds with a grin.
“That is also true.”
“Why did you decide to go to Hawthorne instead of some other college where you could keep cheering?”
“I don’t know,” I reply with a shrug. “It sort of felt like it was time to grow up and put the pompoms away.”
“Yeah, I guess I feel th
e same way about football,” Blake agrees. “What’s the point of being on a team if I don’t get to play?”
“You got offered a spot on a team?”
“Uh-huh,” he mutters. “At Duke.”
“Football at Duke? Wow, that’s huge, Blake!” I tell him.
“It’s a great school and a great offer that I didn’t get from anyone else,” he explains. “It’s where my dad has always wanted me to go, to follow in his footsteps and my grandfather’s and go to law school. I thought it was what I wanted too…”
“So then, what’s the problem?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he says. “Guess I was just having second thoughts.”
“Why second thoughts?”
Rolling his blue eyes, he says, “Why do you think?”
“Because of the baby?” I ask, resting my palm on my bump.
“Football seems like a ridiculous idea with everything that’s going on with the baby.”
“But by August the baby will be someone else’s responsibility,” I tell him. “You shouldn’t let that hold you back from doing what you want to do in the fall.”
“So you think I should accept at Duke?” he asks, brushing his black hair back from his forehead.
“Yeah, I think you should if that’s where you want to go.”
I never meant to burden Blake with the pregnancy and adoption. Sometimes I forget that he’s still in high school and wasn’t ready to handle all of this. Which is why, I’ll try to give him some space so that he won’t have to think about it.
“I, ah, I guess I better head home,” I say as I get to my feet.