by Naomi West
18
Hazel
Six weeks later …
The low rumble of an engine sounded through my room. I didn’t need to get up to know who it was.
But I did anyway.
With a heave, I got off my bed and made my way over to the window. I split the blinds open just enough to get a view out, a crack of morning light cutting into my room.
On his bike, his eyes towards my house, was Dakota.
I didn’t know how he had gotten my address, but there he was. He’d come a few times before, knocking on the door and trying to get me to talk with him. Mom had answered and sent him off each time with some harsh words, and by this point he seemed to get that there wasn’t any point in even getting off his bike.
He knew I knew he was there. And if I wanted to come talk to him, all I had to do was open the door.
Truth be told, I had no idea what the hell I wanted to do. I was torn. Part of me wanted to go talk to him, to tell him that I missed him and thought about him all the time. I wanted to tell him what I’d learned about Jay Jay and have him help me figure out what the hell to do.
But another part knew how bad of an idea it was. Despite what I’d said to Mom, I knew that she was right to some extent, that cutting Dakota out of my life was for the best, that it’d be better to get through the rest of the summer and be ready to focus on school when the year started.
Even if that weren’t the case, I didn’t exactly have a choice. I was living in Mom’s house, and here it was Mom’s rules. I had no idea what she’d do if she caught me with Dakota, but I didn’t want to find out.
After a few minutes, I heard the bike rev and drive off, the sound fading into the distance.
I hated the sound of him driving away—hated, hated, hated it. I could only imagine what he felt as he left, knowing that I didn’t want to see him or speak to him. It was only a matter of time before he left, never to come back.
“Hazel?” asked Mom as she knocked on the door. “You ready?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Coming.”
I grabbed my purse and left the room, Mom waiting for me in the hall.
“Don’t think about it,” she said.
“Huh?” I asked.
“Dakota,” she said. “I can tell you’re thinking about him—it’s all over your face.”
“No, it’s not,” she said.
“It’s almost a little scary,” she said. “It’s about the exact look on my face your grandma told me I’d get whenever I was missing your father.”
“Well, you’re not going to have to worry about me making it for long,” I said. “Only a matter of time before Dakota stops coming around.”
“You’re right about that,” said Mom. “And the sooner he cuts it out, the better. Kid’s acting like a weirdo, if you ask me.”
I couldn’t resist.
“Has he … said anything to you?” I asked. “When you’ve talked to him?”
Mom shot me a glance that suggested she’d be angry at me if she didn’t feel so sorry.
“No,” she said. “He just wants to talk to you. But I made it clear that there’s no way in hell he’s talking to my daughter again. Not a chance I’m letting you run around with a guy like him.”
I realized it was stupid to ask. Sure, I could’ve snuck out of the house, gone to his apartment, talked with him. Hell, maybe done more than talking. Part of me knew that Mom was right, however, that the best thing to do would be to let the pain fade away.
“Okay,” said Mom. “You ready?”
“Ready,” I said with a nod.
“We’re going to the Vivant house again today,” she said as she grabbed her purse and threw it over her shoulder. “You still hanging out with that girl?”
“Not really,” I said. “We’ve been texting, but she’s been busy.”
I left out the part about her being busy with her new boyfriend, Suntree. She’d hit me up for details after my night with Dakota, prying out of me the news that he was into her. Once she’d gotten wind of that, I couldn’t keep her away from him.
They seemed pretty happy, as far as I could tell from her texts. But God knew what kind of life she was living when her parents weren’t watching. Then again, it wasn’t exactly hard for her to keep things from them.
“Maybe that’s for the best, too,” said Mom. “The fewer distractions you have, the better, in my opinion. I want you focused and ready for the school year.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get out a single word a flash of nausea took hold of me. For a brief, intense moment, I wanted to run to the bathroom and puke my guts out.
But as quickly as it came, the feeling passed.
“You okay over there?” asked Mom. “You looked like death for a second.”
I didn’t want to make Mom think I was trying to get out of work, so I decided to lie.
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just some heartburn.”
“I’ve got some Tums in my purse if you want them,” she said.
“Maybe if it comes back.”
“Well, let me know. Come on.”
We got into the car and were off. Before too long we were parked in front of the Vivant house and heading through the tall front doors a few moments later. The rest of the crew was already there and getting their supplies set up.
“Hazel?”
Bonnie’s familiar voice called out to me from up the stairs. Seconds later, I spotted her at the top of them, a happy scream sounding from her mouth as she laid eyes on me. Bonnie ran down as quickly as her legs could carry her, and once she was at the bottom floor she rushed over and pulled me into a tight hug.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed.
“Bonnie!” I said right back, genuinely happy to see her.
I glanced over to Mom, who’d been watching the scene.
“Fine,” she said. “You can start in Bonnie’s room.”
“Thanks, Mom!” I said, already on my way up the stairs with Bonnie.
“But I better not catch you slacking off!” Mom called after us.
Soon we were in Bonnie’s room, which was just as much of a mess as it had been the first time I’d seen it.
“Damn,” I said. “You ever hear of this thing called tidying up?”
“Who has time for that?” she asked. “Especially when you’re dating the most amazing man in the world?”
I began picking up stray articles of dirty clothes.
“That good, huh?” I asked.
“Oh my God, Hazel—you have no idea. Suntree … he’s like no man I’ve ever met before. He’s smart and gorgeous and funny and charming.”
“And runs his own cult …” I said with a grin.
“It’s not a cult,” she said, pouting.
“That’s what anyone who’s in a cult is going to say,” I said. “But I’m just joking.”
“He’s really charismatic,” she said. “And when you’re like that, people can’t help but be drawn to you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Especially women.”
She shook her head defiantly.
“Nope,” she said. “He told me that I’m the only girl for him.”
“And you believe him?” I asked.
“Yep,” she said, not hesitating a second. “He went from being surrounded by women to being surrounded by, well, me!”
A tense expression formed on my face.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You want to know about Dakota.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but she was dead-on.
“I do,” I said. “My mom won’t let me talk to him, and part of me knows that it’s for the best if I just let him go …”
“But …”
“But I want to know. I want to know if he’s doing okay.”
“He’s doing fine,” she said. “He used to ask about you, but less so as time’s gone on.”
“And is he …”
“With another girl?” she asked. “Nope. Just by himself, doing his own thing, nose us
ually buried in a book.”
“Sounds like Dakota,” I said.
Bonnie shook her head.
“What a rough scene,” she said. “You lose your virginity to the guy and then you can’t see him again. Poor thing.”
“It’s … for the best,” I said, repeating what Mom had told me over and over, hoping it would sink in. “I shouldn’t be hanging out with a guy like that anyway.”
“Still,” said Bonnie. “Too bad you couldn’t have even tried to figure something out. Maybe—”
Before she could finish, the feeling of nausea returned. And this time, it didn’t go away. I ran as quickly as I could to Bonnie’s bathroom and dropped in front of the toilet.
“Whoa!” said Bonnie.
Once I was in place, I let it rip. It took only a few seconds for me to empty my stomach. Once I was done, I lay there on the cool ground, letting my belly settle.
“Hazel!” said Bonnie, now standing at the entrance to the bathroom. “Are you okay? Are you hungover or something?”
“No,” I said. “Haven’t had a single thing to drink since that night with Dakota.”
“Wow,” said Bonnie. “Aren’t you a good girl.”
She squatted down at my side and put her hand on my back.
“You okay?”
“I think so,” I said. “I just keep getting nauseous. But this is the first time I’ve actually had to throw up.”
Bonnie helped me to my feet, and I was happy to feel the nausea gone.
“There you go,” she said. “Just needed to get it out of your system. Maybe it’s just a bug or something.”
“That’s what I thought at first,” I said. “But now … I don’t know. Something just feels off about me. Different.”
“Hmm,” said Bonnie. “Anything else been going on?”
“There’s the nausea,” I said. “And then I’ve been feeling randomly tired all the time. And I’ve been eating like crazy, twice as much as I usually do.”
A strange look flashed on Bonnie’s face.
“What?” I asked.
“Um, when you and Dakota … you know,” she said. “Did you remember to use protection?”
I shook my head.
“No,” I said. “But he pulled out. We remembered that, at least.”
Like a flash, it dawned on me what Bonnie was suggesting.
“No way,” I said. “Not a chance.”
“’Not a chance’?” she asked. “Hazel, you’re having weird symptoms a few weeks after you had unprotected sex. You’re either getting a weird flu, or you’re—”
“Stop,” I said. “I don’t even want to hear the word.”
“Come on,” said Bonnie. “You can’t pretend it’s not even a possibility.”
“Watch me,” I said with a smirk.
“Hold on a sec,” said Bonnie.
She gently pushed me aside from the sink and began going through the drawers.
“I had a little bit of a scare a few years back,” she said as she pulled out the contents of the drawers and tossed them into the sink basin. “And I kind of went a little overboard and bought too many tests. And … here!”
She pulled out a small rectangular box and shoved it in front of my face. I hesitantly took it.
“It’s easy,” she said. “Just pee on the stick and wait for the results. Shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes.”
Before I could say another word, Bonnie was out of the bathroom, the door shut behind her.
I took the pregnancy test out and stared at it for several long moments as if it were some kind alien artifact.
No sense in putting it off, I thought.
I followed the directions and when I was done, I put the test on the edge of my sink and set the timer for twenty minutes. Then I opened the bathroom door to see Bonnie in the process of cleaning her room.
“Figured you had enough to worry about,” she said.
“Thanks,” I said right back.
I went right into pacing around the room while Bonnie picked up. The twenty minutes passed like twenty years, but eventually the timer sounded from the phone. I rushed into the bathroom and snatched the test up and held it in front of my face.
“Two lines,” I said, my eyes wide in disbelief. “Pregnant.”
“Oh my God,” said Bonnie, coming to my side. “It’s really happening—you’re freaking pregnant!”
I wandered into the bedroom in a daze, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and staring straight forward.
“I can’t believe it,” I said. “I can’t freaking believe it.”
“Congratulations!” said Bonnie, her voice chipper. “This is good, right?”
“Are you kidding?” I asked. “I can’t have a baby—there’s no way in hell I’m ready for that!”
“But you’ll get ready, right?” asked Bonnie. “And by the time it gets here.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Not a chance. I can’t have a kid, not right now.”
Moments of silence passed.
“You could talk to Dakota,” said Bonnie. “Tell him what’s going on. He’s a good guy—I bet you anything he’ll be ready to step up and do the right thing.”
“That’s a whole other issue,” I said. “Dakota’s a freaking criminal! Even if he wants to be a father, he’s not in anything even resembling a position to do it. And neither am I.”
I took a deep breath and went on.
“If I wanted to raise this kid I’d have to drop out of college and do it myself. And then I’d be a single mom and be leading the exact kind of life my mom was afraid of me living. No—I can’t do it.”
Bonnie said nothing for several moments before speaking.
“Well …” she said. “Then there’s always another option. You could … take care of it.”
The idea struck me as horrible.
“I … I can’t, can I?” I asked.
“I don’t see what other option you have,” said Bonnie. “You can’t have the kid, and you can’t let your mom or anyone else find out about it, so adoption isn’t an option.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It just seems so … drastic.”
“Drastic times call for drastic measures,” said Bonnie.
She put her hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
“Listen,” she said. “I went through this with a friend back in high school. I know who to call and all that. You let me handle it, okay?”
“Thanks, Bonnie,” I said.
Mom’s voice cut through the air, calling me downstairs.
“We’ll be in touch,” said Bonnie. “And don’t worry!”
She made it sound so simple. But I knew it would be anything but.
19
Hazel
One week later …
Bonnie pulled her luxury car into an open parking space and cut the engine. The building ahead was totally nondescript, a box-shaped white structure with the words “Angel City Women’s Health Services” written on the side.
“Okay,” said Bonnie. “You ready to do this?”
“Not even a little,” I said. “But not like I have any other choice, right?”
“It’s not too late to back out,” said Bonnie. “If that’s what you want to do.”
Truth be told, I had no idea what I wanted to do. What I wanted didn’t even seem to factor into things. I felt as though I was being pulled in ten different directions.
“Let’s get this over with,” I said. “Then I can try to get back to something like a normal life.”
“You got it,” said Bonnie.
We climbed out of the car and made our way inside. The lobby was a brightly lit, sterile room with rows of plastic chairs. I checked in with the front desk, giving the woman up front my name.
“Hazel Wiley,” she said, her eyes on the screen. “And your friend?”
“Becca Thorne,” said Bonnie, spitting out the fake name so fast that I knew right away that it couldn’t have been the first time she’d used it. “Ju
st here for moral support.”
The receptionist’s eyes lingered on Bonnie, or “Becca,” for several long moments. It was as though she realized that something was off about what was going on.
“Sure,” she said finally. “Take a seat and we’ll call you when it’s time.”
I nodded and hurried back to one of the open seats, Bonnie taking a seat next to me.
“Becca Thorne?” I whispered. “Why the fake name?”
“Never know who in the medical industry knows my mom,” she said. “Last thing I want is her finding out I was at an abortion clinic.”
I took in deep breath after deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
“It’s going to be fine,” said Bonnie. “From what I hear it’s a totally noninvasive process. In and out in less than an hour.”
“I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t make it any less weird.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” said Bonnie. “No easy way to do it. But just think, at the end of the day you’ll be back to normal, thinking about getting back to school and everything else. You can put Dakota out of your head and that’ll be that.”
The truth of the matter was that I didn’t know if I wanted to put Dakota out of my head so easily. But like everything else, it all seemed out of my control.
Forty minutes ticked by as I waited for the receptionist to call my name. Tension built in my stomach by the moment, and over and over again I found myself wondering if I was doing the right thing.
Or if I was on the verge of making a terrible, terrible mistake.
Then I heard the last thing I expected to hear in the place—the sound of my mom’s voice.
“Hazel Wiley!” she announced, catching the attention of the handful of people in the reception area. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Oh shit.
Before I had a chance to react, she bolted over to me, grabbed my wrist, and yanked me out of the chair. My eyes shot ahead where I saw yet another familiar face—that of Bonnie’s mother.
“You get over here right now,” hissed Dr. Vivant as she rushed over to give Bonnie the same treatment.
Everything next happened in a blur. Mom pulled me out of the waiting room and back into the parking lot. Seconds after that I was in the front seat of her car as we peeled out of the park and back onto the street.