A Gorgeous Villain

by Saffron A Kent

  I thought they would judge me when I told them. I thought they’d call me an idiot. If not that, then at least a cliché. A high school, small town statistic.

  Because I’ve called myself that. A million times since I found out last Thursday in the woods.

  I’ve called myself names.

  I’ve called myself a stupid, idiot slut who couldn’t keep her legs closed for her almost ex-boyfriend. A stupid, idiot slut who didn’t think about condoms.

  Who couldn’t move on and now her life is ruined.

  In my most emotional and irrational moments — which have been a lot in the past week — I’ve cursed at him. I’ve hated him for ever coming into my life, for making me fall in love with him, for being so difficult to forget, so difficult to hate and so easy to love.

  I’ve thought about not telling him too.

  I’ve thought about keeping it a secret.

  Just to spite him. Just to make him suffer. Just because he hurt me two years ago and just because I don’t want anything to do with him.

  I don’t know. I’m irrational.

  And pregnant.

  I am pregnant.

  Pregnant, pregnant, pregnant.

  At eighteen.

  I’m freaking pregnant.

  It’s a word that never ever gets out of my head now. I keep saying it to myself and I keep touching my belly.

  I keep thinking about what I’ll do.

  How can I ever turn this around? What good can ever come out of this?

  I’m ruined, aren’t I?

  My life is ruined.

  But then two days ago I woke up and my mind was clear.

  It was so clear that I decided something.

  I decided that I could call myself names and cry about what happened. I could call it a mistake and curse at the fates. I could punish myself like I’ve always done. Or I could wipe my tears and take charge.

  I could make a plan. I could be strong like my mom was and do what needs to be done.

  Besides, punishing myself in the past has never worked, has it?

  Something that he taught me himself.

  So I’m not going to do it again, and this time I have someone else to think about other than myself.

  So I’ve been reading up at the library.

  Apparently, they have pregnancy books. Like actual pregnancy books, not biology stuff. I wonder who thought to add those to the catalog, at a girl’s reform school no less.

  But anyway, I’ve been reading and I’ve been making lists.

  Because I read somewhere that you should make a list when you’re anxious. And I’m anxious. Books say that anxiety is a common symptom of being pregnant.

  So I can’t eat meat. I’m throwing up day and night. I’m anxious and emotional. And I cry a lot too.

  But it’s okay.

  It’s fine.

  I’ve got a plan.

  It’s not a perfect plan, but this is all I have.

  My girls seem to like the plan, but they hate parts of it.

  “I really think you should reconsider,” says Wyn in a hushed voice because we’re at the library. “I really think there has to be another way.”

  “It’s fine,” I tell her, trying to calm her down. “It’s going to be okay.”

  Wyn doesn’t listen. “Remember what Salem was saying the other day? She could talk to Principal Carlisle for you. I bet if Salem talked to her, we could find a way. I mean, I don’t think Salem’s her favorite person right now but still.”

  Wyn’s talking on Salem’s behalf because Salem’s not here right now.

  She’s taking a few days off.

  Because remember the problems that she had? Or rather the problem: Arrow Carlisle.

  Yeah, that problem blew up last weekend and resulted in what I think — and both Poe and Wyn agree — has to be the biggest ever scandal at St. Mary’s School for Troubled Teenagers.

  Well, until they all find out about me.

  That I’m pregnant.

  But anyway, that’s the bad news, the scandal. The good news is that I think — and again both Poe and Wyn agree — that the soccer god, Arrow, might be crushing on her as well.

  I mean, we’re not sure because he hasn’t said anything — because he’s a guy and he’s stupid — but I’m really crossing my fingers that he soon will.

  “Okay, fuck talking to people,” says Poe loudly before she remembers where we are. Then with a lower voice, “We could try to keep it a secret for a while. I mean, you’re not gonna start showing until your seventh month or something anyway. By then it will be too late.”

  I can’t believe she said that.

  Especially when we have all these pregnancy books open at the table in front of us.

  I look around to make sure no one is listening in before telling my dear friend, “It’s the fifth month. You start showing in your fifth.” I point to the book. “It says so right here: ‘you’re glowing and you’re showing.’ Which if my math is right is going to come around in March.”

  Then before they can all start arguing again, I shut it down. I tell them that this is the only way.

  But I have to do the hardest thing first.

  I have to tell my brothers. Tomorrow when I go visit them.

  That I’m pregnant with the baby of the guy they all hate.

  Because I only have one week before I have to tell him, and this time I’m not going to run.

  I’m going to face it all head-on.

  ***

  I think I’m going to throw up.

  In the middle of the dining table. At our house.

  Because my brother Conrad has ordered all my favorite things. From my favorite restaurant no less.

  Bacon and chicken. And mac and cheese.

  There’s so much mac and cheese, and until I found it on the table, I didn’t know that it was one of my triggers. And now I’m going to ruin it all, all the effort he’s put in for me.

  But it’s more than that.

  It’s more than food.

  It’s the fact that my other brother is here. The one I had no idea was going to be home this weekend and the one I’m dreading telling this piece of information that I have the most.

  Ledger.

  In fact he was the one who came to pick me up at school, completely shocking me. And then he whipped out a large pink box from Buttery Blossoms with enough cupcakes for my friends and I threw my arms around him and started sobbing, shocking him in return.

  But anyway, here we are now, sitting at the table, eating dinner.

  Well, they’re eating dinner and I’m just staring at it or at the soft blue wall that has all our photos, from childhood to high school.

  Actually, now that I notice, the baby photos are only mine.

  Me in a tiny tutu and ribbons; me with my mom at the park; me eating cupcakes with a six-year-old Ledger; me smiling toothily at the camera while sitting on a teenage Con’s shoulders; me smiling toothily at the camera again while teenage Shepard and Stellan kiss my fat baby cheeks.

  And then there are pictures of me through the years, all grown up, and I realize that this is my life. In pictures.

  This wall contains my entire life as I’ve known it.

  With my brothers.

  I’m the centerpiece and I never noticed this before.

  I never noticed how cherished I am.

  I mean, I have, but this is something else.

  This is tangible proof and tears well up in my eyes and I’m about to burst out crying but I’m stopped by Con’s statement.

  “You’re not eating.”

  He’s looking at my plate with a frown and I blurt out, “I’m eating.”

  He looks up at my false answer. “Is there something wrong?”

  Yes.

  “No. Of course not.”

  “I ordered your favorites.”

  “I know,” I tell him, nodding as I fist my hands in my lap. “And they
are. They’ve always been. As you know. So thank you.”

  “So what’s the problem?” he asks and my heart starts to beat faster.

  My stomach churns and I feel the bile rising up my throat.

  This isn’t the first time Con has ordered me my favorite foods when I’ve come for a visit. He might be angry at me for the things I’ve done in the past, but he’s also my brother. My biggest protector. The only father figure I’ve ever known, and he takes care of me despite everything.

  It always makes me feel guilty that despite making his life harder, he still looks out for me.

  And my guilt is even stronger tonight. My dread too.

  Because I have to tell him.

  I know it’s going to piss him off. It’s going to make him angrier at me than he already is. Maybe he’ll think I’m stupid like I was two years ago.

  But I can’t not tell him.

  Last time, I kept everything a secret, making it feel like even more of a betrayal. All the lies that I’d told. All the sneaking around that I’d done.

  Even though they’ve all forgiven me — except Conrad — even Ledger, for falling in love with the very guy they’d told me not to, I know that this time it might be much harder.

  This time they might not forgive me at all.

  But still, I have to tell them, and maybe I should just get this over with. “Uh, it’s —”

  “Wait,” Ledger says from the other side of me. “Are you on your weird diet again?”

  “What?”

  Ledger sits back then, shaking his head. “Holy shit, you’re on your weird diet again.”

  “Are you?” Con asks me.

  My heart jumps at his question as I swivel my gaze toward him. “Am I what?”

  Pregnant.

  “On one of your crazy diets,” he asks.

  Oh. Right.

  I swallow thickly. “No, I don’t do that anymore.” Con looks like he doesn’t believe me and so I insist, “I promise. I don’t.” Then, I turn to Ledger. “I don’t, I swear.”

  Ledger stares at me for a beat before his lips twitch and a chuckle breaks out of him.

  I eye him suspiciously. “Are you thinking about… that?”

  That chuckle becomes a laugh and he has to put down his fork because suddenly, he’s doubling over with it.

  I stab my fork at him. “It’s not funny, Ledge.”

  He only laughs harder. “Oh fucking Christ…”

  “Stop it!”

  He doesn’t. “I can’t get his face out of my head.” He snorts. “He fucking pissed his pants.”

  I press my lips together to stop myself from laughing even though I know I shouldn’t.

  I shouldn’t laugh at him or his face as Ledger said.

  Him being my other goofy brother, Shepard.

  But it is funny.

  So fine, there was this one time when I was on a juice fast and I baked cookies for Shep and Stellan because they were visiting for the weekend. I wanted to do something nice for them, but now I know that I never should’ve done that because I was on a diet and was cranky.

  And the aroma of them. The taste of chewy cookies and melted chocolate, gah.

  I resisted all evening.

  I resisted when Ledger told me that I should at least have one. When he waved it under my nose, jerk, to get me to break. I resisted when Shep made all those moaning noises and Stellan told me sternly to just eat the fucking cookie instead of going through with the crazy diet.

  But the good, determined girl that I am, I resisted.

  Until everyone went to sleep.

  I crept down to the kitchen because it was getting harder and harder to fall asleep and I had ballet class in the morning. I thought that one cookie wouldn’t hurt.

  But it turned out someone was already there and as soon as I saw a silhouette, without really thinking about it, I picked up the first thing I saw, a kitchen cleaner, and started screaming and spraying.

  Freaking the bejesus out of who I thought was an intruder.

  It was only Shep though.

  And I’d somehow sprayed him in the eyes and also on the cookie that was half hanging from his mouth. That he had to spit out because he was screaming too. And with all the screaming and shouting, the rest of them woke up and ugh.

  It was a whole chaotic thing.

  “I think you should call him and apologize again,” Ledger says, laughing. “He’s never going to live that down. He’s been tainted for life. Because his sister tried to kill him for eating cookies.”

  And then I can’t stop my own laughter because it was funny, and I guess Ledger is right.

  I have scarred Shepard for life.

  Now every time he comes around and I make him cookies, they all call him the Cookie Monster.

  But my laughter is short-lived because amidst all the snorting and snickering, I hear another deep chuckle.

  It’s Con’s.

  And I completely freeze.

  It’s been so long since I’ve heard it and it fills me with such great joy that I really don’t know what to do. Ledger doesn’t have this problem though because he keeps laughing and sputtering, “Remember what he said, ‘If this gets out, I’ll murder all four of you in your fucking sleep.’”

  Con chuckles again. “Yeah. I’d like to see him try.”

  Ledger stabs a finger at him. “Hey, I could take you. Come on.” He raises his arms and flexes his biceps then. “Look at these babies, huh.”

  Con gives him a bored look. “I could snap you like a twig.”

  “Ha! You wish, big bro.”

  “Just eat your dinner.”

  “You wanna meet me outside?” Ledger challenges. “Come on, let’s go. Let’s end this here and now and see who’s the strongest.” He waves at me then. “Come on, Calls, you can be our witness as I wipe the floor with our big brother and begin my supremacy.”

  I burst out crying then.

  I know it’s a crazy reaction to my brothers bantering with each other but I can’t help myself. Usually my brothers goof around, especially Shep and Ledger, but it’s been years since I saw Conrad joining them.

  And I know it’s because of me.

  Because of what I did and how I disappointed my oldest brother.

  Maybe I don’t have to tell him, I think wildly.

  Maybe Poe was right. Maybe I don’t have to tell anyone anything, not until it’s too late.

  “Callie, what’s wrong?” Conrad asks, sitting up in his chair, a thick frown between his brows.

  Ledger goes alert too. “Hey, Calls, what’s up? What —”

  Sniffling, I wipe off my tears. “N-nothing. I just… I just miss you guys so much. And I don’t get to see you a lot so… yeah, I’m just being silly.”

  Ledger relaxes. “Oh well, Con’s got some big news on that very front.”

  I sniffle again. “What?”

  Ledger gestures at Con and I look at him. Con puts down his fork and straightens up. “They offered me a job. At St. Mary’s.”

  “What?”

  “As their new soccer coach.”

  “Soccer coach?”

  Con nods. “I know they have a temporary coach now, Arrow Carlisle. But they want someone permanent because he’s leaving to play for his team and they approached me.”

  I know he’s leaving.

  It was part of that big scandal with Salem but I… They approached my brother?

  “I said yes,” he continues. “I thought it was…” He looks slightly uncomfortable right now. “The past two years haven’t been great and I thought it would be a good move for the future. Me being there. We could see each other. More. Before you go to college next year.”

  He said yes.

  My brother said yes. Because of me. Because he thought it would be good for us after the awful, awkward two years that we’ve had.

  I don’t know what’s worse.

  The fact that he’s ready to end the
awkwardness and look to the future or the fact that he’s going to take a job at the school that’s going to expel me the second I reveal my secret to them. The school where my secret will spread like wildfire. Where they’ll call me names. Where they’ll gossip about me, tell each other stories about how much of a slut I am.

  How stupid I am for getting pregnant in high school.

  And my brother is going to be there.

  In the midst of it all.

  He’ll have to face humiliation on a daily basis.

  Because of me.

  I can’t let him.

  I can’t.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  It comes out garbled.

  Even I don’t understand it. But I know they did. I know that because everything just… stops.

  Everything suspends and freezes.

  The clinking of silverware and the dishes. The rustle of feet on the floor. The shifting of their bodies in the chairs.

  Their breaths.

  My own breath.

  “Who?”

  That growl belongs to Ledger and I wince.

  Even though he hasn’t raised his voice. It’s the tone. It’s the knowledge in that tone.

  He already knows who.

  I press my hand on my stomach. “I —”

  “Is it him? Is it that motherfucker?” he asks again in a low voice, and again I flinch.

  I half expect Conrad to growl ‘calm down’ at Ledger but he doesn’t. He’s eerily quiet and I want to look at him and ask him to say something.

  But Ledger has all my attention. “It is, isn’t it? It’s him.”

  “Ledger —”

  “Oh Jesus Christ.” He springs up from his seat and he does it so violently that his thighs smack against the table, shaking everything, the dishes, the spoons, the ketchup bottle, the water.

  He doesn’t notice it though. He’s looking at me as he walks back.

  As if in shock.

  And then as if he can’t look at me anymore, he spins around and plows his fingers through his hair.

  “Ledge, listen to me, please.”

  He turns around at my voice. “Did he force himself on you? Did that asshole do this to you without your permission?”

  My eyes go wide. “What? No.” I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. He didn’t. I was —”

  “Willing,” he speaks over me with gritted teeth and flashing eyes. “You were willing. Is that what you’re trying to say? To get fucked by him.”