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The Mercy Academy Box Set: A Complete High School Bully Romance Series

Page 35

by Lane Hart


  I love her.

  Holy shit, I do. I love her. I’m not sure why it took me so long to admit that to myself when I’ve been in love with Caroline for years. I guess it just finally hit me that after all that time I was invisible to her, just her brother’s best friend, right now, tonight, she must care about me too if she went to all this trouble.

  “Do you know how long it took me to get ready?” she asks, gesturing to herself with both hands as if I couldn’t see her. She’s all I see even when I close my eyes. “Three hours! So you better go put your tux on!” she exclaims while pointing up the stairs.

  “Wow, Caroline,” I finally am able to say as my eyes continue to devour her. “You look…gorgeous.” And you smell good enough to eat. Literally.

  “Thank you,” she says with a small smile. “Now, go change. Everyone’s waiting.”

  “Why did you change your mind?” I ask her, praying that she’ll say it’s because she loves me too.

  Instead, she responds with, “Does it really matter?”

  “No, I guess not,” I mutter because I don’t want to do anything that will fuck this up. So what if she’s here out of pity or whatever. She’s here, and I will never turn down a chance to spend more time with her.

  Chapter 35

  Caroline

  It feels like someone is slamming an ice pick into my brain, and the music and lights in the ballroom aren’t exactly helping. But Blake is here, looking happy and hot in his black tux as he enjoys an irreplaceable memory with his friends, so I suck it up and slap on a smile.

  We haven’t been here long. When we came in, everyone decided to sit down and take it all in before dancing.

  Maddie pulled my brother onto the dance floor within five minutes when a Bruno Mars’ song came on. Then, Sophie dragged a reluctant Royal behind them a few minutes later, leaving me and Blake alone.

  Leaning toward my ear, he asks, “So, how have you been feeling?”

  “Fine,” I tell him, which is close to the truth. Other than my blood pressure being a little high at my last check-up and not being able to sleep for more than two hours without having to go to the bathroom, everything is good except for being so sad and depressed I never want to get out of bed.

  After the lights go dark and a slow song comes on, Lewis Capaldi’s “Someone You Loved,” the pain in my head eases up slightly, which is why I stand up and offer Blake my palm. “Let’s dance,” I tell him.

  “Are you sure?” he asks when he takes my hand, giving it a squeeze as he gets to his feet. It’s the first time we’ve touched in weeks. I’ve never noticed that sort of thing before, time between when someone’s skin makes contact with my own, but it’s impossible not to know when it feels so damn good, reminding me what I gave up.

  “What?” I ask, as I push aside those crazy thoughts and his question finally catches up with me. “Am I sure? Are you too embarrassed to be seen dancing with a big, fat, pregnant girl?”

  “You’re not big or fat, and I would never be embarrassed to be seen with you,” he says, pulling me onto the dance floor. Turning to face each other, I place my hands on Blake’s shoulders as Blake molds his to my hips. Together, we sway back and forth to what I now realize is one of the saddest songs ever written about loneliness. It’s like a soundtrack to my life since Blake’s father told me to stay away from him.

  Gradually, I relax and loosen up and feel Blake’s shoulders do the same under my hands. When our cheeks brush, I feel his breath rush out like he had been holding it.

  “I’ve missed you,” he says quietly and then pulls me closer until my rotund stomach is flush against his body as close as I can get now, making us both laugh. “Guess the baby’s grown a lot over the last few weeks.”

  “Yeah, it has,” I agree just as a faster song comes on. The lights begin to swirl again, sending more stabbing pains through my temple that are so strong I wince and absently grab at it.

  “Are you okay?” Blake asks.

  “Of course. It’s just a headache I can’t shake,” I explain.

  “Have you taken any pain medicine for it?”

  “No, there’s not much I can have. I don’t want to take anything that could hurt the baby,” I tell him.

  “But you’re hurting.”

  “It’s just a headache.”

  “We should go,” Blake says with a sigh.

  “What? No! We just got here,” I point out.

  “The noise and lights can’t be helping if you have a migraine,” Blake argues. “Come on. You can rest and see if it gets any better.”

  I don’t have a chance to protest before he’s pulling me along behind him toward the ballroom doors and over to the lobby of the hotel. At the counter, Blake pulls out his wallet and a credit card from it, without letting my hand go. “We would like a room, whatever you have,” he tells the woman behind the desk.

  “That’s really not necessary,” I say, causing her to look between the two of us in concern.

  “Yes, it is. She has a headache,” Blake replies. “Do you have any rooms?”

  “Ah, let me see,” the clerk says as she types on the keyboard in front of her.

  “I’m fine. Let’s just go back to the ballroom,” I say, trying to pull Blake back that way by his hand. Of course he doesn’t move an inch even though soon I’ll probably outweigh him.

  “We can drive half an hour home, or we can see if the headache lessens in a dark, quiet room here. Your choice.”

  “We’re not going home. We just got here!” I reiterate.

  “Then room it is,” he says.

  “I have a queen room with a city view,” the clerk informs us.

  “Great. Book it so that my pregnant friend here can go lay down,” Blake instructs her.

  “I’m fine!”

  “You’re not fine,” he challenges. “You’re stubborn and incredibly sweet for getting ready and coming tonight for me, but you’re obviously in pain.”

  I sigh but don’t respond since the clerk is already handing him a keycard.

  A few moments later, we’re on the elevator heading up to the fourth floor and into a dark room where neither of us turn on any lights. And I have to admit that it feels nice to sit down on the soft bed in the silence.

  “Ten minutes, and then we’re going back down,” I tell Blake as he hovers beside the bed.

  “We’ll see,” is his response as he lifts both of my legs and swivels them around to stretch them out on the mattress. Next, he starts to take off my sandals, and then his fingers are feeling around my feet and up to my ankles and legs. “Caroline, I think your feet are like…really swollen.”

  “Ugh, I know,” I mutter as I lay my head back on the fluffy pillows. “They do that if I stand up for like more than five minutes.”

  Blake goes over and turns on one of the small bedside lamps and then comes back for a closer look.

  “Don’t,” I say, trying to cover my feet up with my dress. “It’s gross.”

  “Caroline, this looks really bad. Maybe we should take you to the hospital.”

  “No!” I exclaim as I sit up and toss one of the extra bed pillows over my feet. “Tonight’s your prom. I’ll lie here for, like, ten minutes, and then we’re going back downstairs to dance!”

  Blake doesn’t say a word as he takes the pillow and props each of my feet on top of it. My shoes come off next with loud thumps when they hit the floor.

  “Do you want something to drink or eat?” he asks as he stands at the foot of the bed.

  “No, I’m fine. Really.”

  “Okay then,” he says with a heavy exhale before he turns the light off again. In the darkness, the mattress shifts as he sinks down on it.

  I tell myself that I’m just going to close my eyes for a few moments and give my aching head and feet a rest before we get back to the party. But closing my eyes relieves a little more of the piercing pain. The doctor told me lying on my left side is best for the baby, so that’s the side I roll to. As soon as I’m still, I fee
l the usual fluttering of the baby shifting around. It’s an amazing sensation, one that I already know I’ll miss once he or she is born and no longer with me. It’s a constant reminder of the tiny person growing inside of me, a part of me and Blake, something we unknowingly created from one amazing night.

  When the kid starts kicking or hitting my belly repeatedly like it’s a punching bag, I can’t help but laugh.

  “What?” Blake asks from behind me.

  “The baby’s kicking the shit out of me.”

  “Can I feel?” he asks.

  “Yeah, sure,” I tell him. When his palm strokes along my hip through my velvet dress, I grab it and place it over the right side of my bump where the most movement is going on.

  “I-I don’t feel anything,” he says.

  “He stopped,” I explain, and his hand suddenly pulls back to my hip where it stays.

  Once we stop talking, the kicking begins again. “And he’s back,” I say, pulling Blake’s hand around to the spot. “I usually refer to it as him for some reason, not that I know for sure...”

  There’s another beat of silence and then Blake asks, “So you think it’s a boy?”

  “Yeah, I do,” I admit.

  “He is moving now? Because I still don’t feel anything.”

  “Just wait. You will,” I assure him.

  Blake

  The fact that Caroline doesn’t wake up after hours in the hotel room is concerning. Not because we’re missing the prom. I don’t give a fuck about that. What I am worried about is how swollen her feet and ankles were. She fell asleep while I was waiting to feel the baby, her hand still on mine, which is warm and if I’m not mistaken is swollen too. I pull my hand out from underneath hers for a better angle and quickly notice that her normally slender fingers are the size of sausages.

  Fuck.

  I don’t know if I should wake her up or just pick her up and carry her to the hospital.

  Maybe this is normal in pregnancy, like her belly isn’t the only thing to get bigger. Who the fuck knows?

  I wish I could ask someone who has been through a pregnancy to find out. Trying to diagnose Caroline online on my phone would probably make me worry even more.

  Letting go of her hand, I quietly slip out of bed and tiptoe into the bathroom where I shut the door and turn on the light. After I pull my phone out of my pocket, I stare down at the screen, trying to figure out who to call.

  It’s a little after three a.m., so Aric and Royal are probably sound asleep, and it’s not like either of them know any medical shit.

  My dad is a dickhead and a lawyer, so he sure as hell can’t help me. And while Caroline’s dad is a doctor, he’s an oncologist, so I seriously doubt if he studied pregnancies unless it was related to cancer.

  I end up calling the last person I want to speak to and even consider hanging up when she answers.

  “Hello? Blake? Are you okay?” my mother’s voice asks groggily since I obviously woke her up.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, but Caroline’s not I don’t think,” I say in a rush.

  “Caroline?” she repeats. “Caroline…Prince?”

  “Yes, she’s about seven months pregnant, and her feet and hands are swollen,” I explain.

  “Caroline’s pregnant?” she gasps. “Is it…Blake, is it yours?”

  “Yes, it’s mine.”

  “Oh…I-I didn’t…I had no idea,” she stammers. “My baby’s having a baby?”

  “Maybe if you hadn’t completely disappeared or stopped calling you would’ve known!” I exclaim into the phone. “Look, forget it. I thought you could help, which was stupid…”

  I start to end the call when she yells, “Wait! Has her blood pressure been high?”

  Sighing, I say, “I have no idea. I haven’t been to any doctor appointments with her in months.”

  “Oh. Well, um, has she had any headaches recently?” my mother asks.

  “Yeah, she has, tonight. Why? We were at prom, and the music and lights were making it worse.”

  “Blake, you need to take her to the emergency room. She could have preeclampsia, and untreated, it could be very dangerous for her.”

  “What do I…what do I do?” I ask as I brace a palm on the bathroom counter as a cold sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. “Should I call an ambulance?”

  “If she can walk, then just get her in a car and drive her to the closest hospital,” my mom says calmly. “Tell me which one, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Ah, from here, I guess Wake Forest is the closest if I take the highway,” I answer.

  “Okay, good. Drive safe and slowly. This may be scary, but it’s not urgent, okay? Getting in a wreck won’t help her or the baby.”

  “Okay,” I agree. “I’ll go wake Caroline up and get her downstairs to the car.”

  “I’ll see you in a few,” my mom tells me before I end the call, slipping my phone back into my pocket.

  I leave the light on in the bathroom with the door cracked so I can find my way around to Caroline’s side of the bed. She looks so peaceful that I hate to wake her. “Caroline,” I say with a gentle shake to her shoulder. “Sorry, babe, but you need to wake up.”

  Her eyes blink open, looking up at me after a few seconds, and then she turns her head to look at the alarm clock. “Wow, is it really after three?”

  “Yeah,” I answer.

  “Crap. Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she says while swiping her hands over her face and freezing as she holds them up in front of her eyes. “Wow. Now my hands are enormous too?”

  “I’m taking you to the hospital,” I tell her, a statement not a request. “I called my mom, and she said with the swelling and headache it could be preclampsia or something.”

  “Preeclampsia,” Caroline corrects me. “My blood pressure was a little high at my last appointment.”

  “It was? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because it wasn’t a big deal. The doctor said she wanted to keep an eye on it with weekly appointments. I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’ll see the doctor again on Monday.”

  “I’m taking you to the hospital,” I reiterate. “Right now just to let them check you out.”

  “Ugh, fine,” she huffs before she sits up and immediately grabs the front of her head with a hiss.

  “Headache back?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Come on,” I say as I help her to her feet. “Are you okay to walk? I can carry you if I need to.”

  “I can walk,” she argues. “But, um, I don’t know if my shoes will go back on.”

  “Here,” I say when I sit down on the foot of the bed to remove my black dress socks, then hand them to Caroline. “Put these on so the pavement won’t hurt as much.”

  “Thanks, I guess,” she mutters while holding up the pair in front of her face. “No guy has ever given me his socks before.”

  “If you think my shoes will fit, you’re welcome to them too,” I tell her.

  “Ah, no. The socks are fine,” she says as she lowers herself down on the mattress to pull them on. “At least they match my dress.”

  While she puts them on, I slip my bare feet back into my shoes I took off before lying down; then find her shoes to carry them with us. “You ready?” I ask when she stands up again.

  “I’m sorry I ruined your prom.”

  “You didn’t ruin my prom,” I assure her. “If not for you, I wouldn’t have even showed up here tonight. At least I can say I came.”

  “I didn’t mean for you to leave after one dance,” Caroline responds.

  “And I didn’t mean for you to get pregnant and have to carry my kid around for nine months. But you are, and that’s more important than anything else.”

  “I know,” she says on a sigh while clutching her stomach. “I guess I should call my mom and tell her to meet us?”

  “Yeah,” I agree. “My mom is on the way there too.”

  “She is? Seriously?” Caroline asks, her eyes widening in surp
rise.

  “I had to ask someone about what’s going on with you, and I didn’t have your mom’s number.”

  “It’s good that you’re talking to Collette again,” she responds. “After all, she’s still your mother.”

  Fifteen minutes later and we’re checking Caroline in at the emergency room.

  When a stern nurse with short, spiky, black hair calls her back and then swipes her badge to take Caroline through the locked doors, I start to follow until the nurse holds up her palm to stop me.

  “Not so fast, mister.”

  “What? I’m going with her. I’m the baby’s father, and, ah, I’m her…friend,” I tell her, wincing as I say friend because it sounds so insignificant.

  “First, I need to ask Miss Prince a few questions, privately. As soon as she’s registered and settled in a room, I’ll come back to get you if she so directs me to bring you back.”

  “He can come back with me now,” Caroline assures the nurse, clutching the clipboard they gave her to fill out against her chest.

  “No. He can’t. It’s hospital policy. But I will come back for him in just a few minutes,” she replies as she walks through the threshold.

  The nurse has to swipe her card again when Caroline doesn’t follow her through.

  “Go ahead so they can get you checked out,” I assure her.

  “Okay. I’ll see you in a few,” she replies with a small smile before she shuffles her socked feet down the hallway and the doors shut behind her.

  I’m about to find a seat in one of the waiting room chairs when Caroline’s mom and mine nearly collide into each other when they both come rushing through the sliding glass doors.

  “You! What are you doing here?” Mrs. Prince exclaims while glaring daggers at my mom.

 

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