by B. K. Leigh
Walking into the classroom has my nerves on edge. All I’ve heard on the walk over here is how much each girl already wants Mr. Matthews. I’ve heard him be called every lewd and sexual name in the book, and yet teacher has not been mentioned once. I take my seat in the back row, ready to skim my way through the entire semester. The back row means I don’t want to participate, but I’m still willing to learn and make it out with a passing grade. History isn’t my strongest subject, and most of the time I can pass by with a low B. But something tells me this semester that’s all about to change.
I rest my head on my hand wait as the classroom fills up with kids I’ve known since Kindergarten. Newport Views is a small school where everyone knows everyone.
“Oh my God! He’s so hot!” The girl next to me whispers as a pair of heavy footsteps enters the classroom. I’m so engrossed in the doodle I’m drawing on my desk I don’t even look up. I’m not even interested in super hot History teachers, so why even bother?
“Alright class, My name is Mr. Matthews.” As soon as I hear the strong male voice vibrate through the classroom my eyes snap to the front. His back is to us students as he writes his name across the board with his left hand. His back muscles flex and stretch under the tight lavender dress shirt. He’s tall, built, and judging by his backside, he must be just as gorgeous on the inside as he is out.
When he turns around, my throat runs dry. My ears begin to burn as my cheeks turn red. A churning deep down in my belly begins to brew as I look at the man in front of the class.
Killian.
My Killian from the night club. My Killian from the beginning of the summer. The one who took my virginity. The one who left me pregnant. And the man who is currently at the head of my History class. My throat works to stay closed for fear of throwing up all the contents of what little lunch I ate.
Killian, I mean Mr. Matthews begins to go through attendance as each student yells out they’re here. I put my face in my hands to try to avoid any sort of eye contact the closer he gets to calling my name.
“Jake Nichols?” His smooth voice flows through the classroom like warm butter.
“Here.” Jake raises his hand from somewhere in the front.
“Alex Olsta?” He asks next. The dread in my stomach begins to build, and build, and build. My name is going to be next. I know it. I’ve been in the same classes as these kids for years to know that my name is always after Alex’s.
“Tate-Tatum O’Neil?” I can hear the hesitance in his voice as he reads my name from the piece of paper in his hands. I use my hair as a shield, hoping the long waves will hide my identity at least for a little while.
“Here.” I mumble without lifting my face.
“Miss O’Neil?” He questions. “There will be no sleeping during my class. I know some of the teachers before me may have been a bore, but I can assure you I am not. Now, please lift your head.” He commands. The entire classroom falls silent as I slowly lift my head. The minute my eyes meet his I can see confusion take over his entire being. As he swallows I can see his Adams apple bob up and down. The pressure of his eyes boring into mine has me bolting from the classroom. My feet carry me out the door, down the hall, and to the nearest restroom. My knees hit the tile floor just as the retching begins. My stomach empties itself as tears leak from the corner of my eyes. You know, I’ve read all about the first trimester being the worst and all but at this point I’m almost positive I’m dying. By the amount of times my head has met the toilet in the past month I don’t even understand how I have a stomach left, or a throat even. All the acid constantly coming up is sure to have burned a hole straight through my esophagus.
I stand up on shaky legs and lay my head against the stall wall. Breathe in, breathe out.
Unlocking the door I splash some cold water on my red face and rinse my mouth out. My hair is a wild mess, matted with sweat and frizzy from the hot humid air.
Tatum: Baby daddy?
I text Cohen and anxiously wait for his reply. There’s no way I can finish the rest of the class with Killian burning holes through my skin and into my gut. I can’t sit in there knowing the kind of secret I’m harboring from him.
CoCo: You wanna dip, babe?
Tatum: Yeah, meet me in five?
CoCo: Sure thing, baby mama ;*
I smile at his kissy face. If anyone knew Cohen they’d know he is never like that, or at least never serious like that. I shove my phone in my pocket and head back out into the hallway.
“You want to tell me what you’re doing here, Miss O'Neil?” A deep voice barks out as soon as my feet hit the hard cool tile.
“Killian!” I jump as my hand fly’s over my chest. His eyes narrow with anger the minute his name falls from my lips. “I- I mean Mr. Matthews.” I correct myself as a lump begins to build in my throat. The feeling of suffocation begins to overwhelm me.
“A high school student?” He whisper yells the minute he finds his voice. “You told me you were old enough!” He yells out accusingly. My eyes snap to either side of the hallway making sure we aren’t gaining an audience.
“I was!” I yell back. “I am! You didn’t tell me you were a teacher! You can’t be a teacher, you’re...” My words trail off as my mind begins to remember just exactly how good he feels beneath that tight dress shirt and slacks. The way he held me tightly against the wall, and every time his hips would thrust against mine. I know without a doubt my cheeks must be as red as apples.
“I’m what?” He asks in a deadly tone.
“You’re nothing,” I square my shoulders and straighten my spine. “Clearly a mistake.” I say all the words I should be confident in saying, but feel anything but. I have a baby growing inside of me, his baby and he is certainly not nothing. The thought alone makes my stomach feel queasy.
“You’re right.” He agrees in anger. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go and tell all of your girlfriends all about the nothing we did.” His voice is rough and grim, and his words hit me like a freight train. I narrow my eyes at his assumption. I would never tell anyone about what happened, and even Cohen knows the bare minimum.
“I would never.” I shake my head back and forth as my eyes get trapped in his. The only thing I feel right now is fear, and I don’t like it.
“Good, because we all know what would happen then, don’t we Miss O'Neil?” Each word is coated with warning, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out just what he’s implying.
“Tate?” My name is called and my head turns to that direction. My body sags in the relief of seeing my best friend. “You ready?” He comes to stand just feet away and I see the exact moment reality washes over the two men before me. Cohen looks dangerously angry as he widens his shoulder’s and crosses his arms over his already puffed out chest, sizing Killian up without an ounce of shame. Killian looks… guilty. As if the secret he had wished to keep between us has finally been let out of the bag. The three of us just stare. All eyes traveling from one person to the other.
“Yeah.” I find my words and hurriedly walk towards my friend the minute I’m brought back to reality. “I’m ready, Co.” He wraps a protective arm around my shoulder marking his territory like a dog peeing on a fire hydrant.
“You good, babe?” He whispers into my ear, still locked in a showdown with my newest teacher and latest mistake.
“Yeah, I’m good. I don’t really feel good, let’s go.” I tell him all at once. We head for the door once the alpha showing is finally done.
“Miss O'Neil?” I whip my head around and come face to face with Killian once again.
“That’s one detention for skipping my class.” I don’t miss the satisfied smirk on his lips as I shake my head and continue my escape.
“Was that?” Cohen asks as the humid air hits us full force.
“Yeah it was.” I don’t even look at him. I don’t even understand how this can even be my reality. It feels like a really bad episode of General Hospital. I’ll have to ask Greta, my guidance counselor how
I can get my schedule changed first thing in the morning.
Chapter 3
Tatum
“Are you going to tell me who the real father is or are we just going to pretend it’s Cohen for the rest of your lives?” Cohen’s mom Kathy asks sarcastically. Cohen broke down and told her the minute she questioned where we were heading off to.
“I told you it’s mine, Ma. Why can’t you get that?” he asks annoyed. I can always tell when he’s frustrated, the poor hairs on top his head end up in knots after him constantly running his fingers through them.
“Because,” She takes a deep pause and pins me with a stare. “You have been sneaking over here at night sleeping in the same bed for years, and I never said anything because I knew you two were best friends. Strictly friends might I add.” She huffs out a deep breath. “And I know for a fact you two would never do that.” Her eyes fill with sadness as they land on her only son. A mama's boy, I used to call him while teasing him relentlessly.
“You’re wrong.” Cohen makes one last feeble attempt to make his mother believe the lies we’re spewing.
“You gonna tell me who the father is or will I spend the rest of my life guessing?” My eyes shoot to Cohen giving him an uneasy look. His mother is smart. Smart enough to know exactly what game we are playing. But Cohen and I made a pact, and we don’t plan on breaking it.
“Does it even matter?” Cohen asks dejectedly. “Can’t I be enough?” He asks out loud, but I’m sure it wasn’t thrown towards anyone particular.
“It matters when your entire future is going to be held back by a baby that’s not even yours.” Kathy pinches the bridge of her nose as her frustration begins hitting home.
“You know I’d do anything for Tate, Ma.” He pins her with an honest look. “You know it was always going to be us. That I’d choose us over anyone, always. So why does it matter?” His shoulders slump, only minutes from breaking his resolve completely.
“I just-I just wanted more from you, Cohen.” She sighs. “But I know when your mind is made up, and I can tell you’re obviously not going to back down from this.” She shakes her head as if understanding mine and Cohen’s relationship is like trying to understand an undiscovered foreign language. “You know I love you, Tatum. I will support you guys as best I can.” Her eyes land on me and fill with sorrow.
“It’s not the end of the world, Ma.” If Cohen didn’t keep up this end of the conversation I’d be screwed. The ball of guilt and regret lodged in my throat has me unable to speak. It was easier to speak to Grams, to be honest. Kathy has a way of knowing your potential and showing you your worth, while Grams takes the more laid back route, like the out of sight out of mind kind of thing while still being scary.
“I know.” Her voice raises a pitch higher as her eyes fill with water. “I’ll do what I can to help you, Cohen.” She tells him honestly. This isn’t exactly how I pictured having my first child. Eighteen years old, and still in high school. To put the icing on the cake, the father of my unborn child is someone completely forbidden and off limits.
This is what happens when I don’t think of the consequences. Most of this could have been avoided, had I not drank, not had sex, worn a condom. I can spend all day thinking of all the alternate things I should have done or could have done differently, and yet I still end up in the same situation.
“We have to get going.” Cohen turns to me as the conversation between us and his mom finally dies down. It could have gone a lot worse I think to myself. My own mother would have balled her eyes out while my father screamed his head off. My heart hurts just thinking about them. “Tate?” Cohen calls my name again as I slowly come back to reality.
“Yeah, okay. Lets go.” I hop off the stool I was sitting on, butt numb and mind filled with a million different thoughts. For a second there I almost forgot I had a doctors appointment. My nerves begin to build just thinking about it.
“Do you guys,” Kathy speaks up quickly as she looks to us with hopeful eyes. “Want a ride?” She asks. I exchange a look with Cohen and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out my answer.
“I’d love one.” I speak for the both of us. Kathy lives off of the emotions of other people. If you’re sad she’s sad, if you’re mad, she’s mad. So it’s not too hard to know what to do or say to turn her somber mood around.
A half hour later and I’m sweating bullets full of nerves while Cohen nervously shakes his knee up and down beside me.
“Stop shaking, Co. You’re making me nervous.” I nudge him in the side with my elbow. I didn’t realize how real everything was until I was staring at the sterile white walls of the OB-GYN. A woman further along in her pregnancy sits in front of me sporting a large baby bump as she silently reads a Motherhood magazine. She looks so calm, and peaceful. Completely at ease with where she is. Where I on the other hand am completely freaking out.
“I can’t help it! You know I hate doctors offices.” Cohen crosses is arms over his chest and I can’t help but notice how out of place he truly looks. Cohen is big for only being eighteen. His shoulders are broad and square, his legs are muscular and thick. His hair is longer, like a surfer and when he wears a hat it curls upwards around the rim. My best friend is a sight for sore eyes. He’s good looking, even I can admit that. His chocolate eyes light up my world and his kind smile can help me through any hard situation. He was there for my when my parents passed, and even now. We’re soulmates. And we both know it.
“You both need to stop, now you’re making me nervous.” Kathy chimes in from the other side of Cohen.
“I’m sorry, Ma. You know I hate these places.” He says apologetically. I place my hand on his thigh and squeeze, knowing the small gesture will help him calm down a little.
“How are you going to make it through the next nine months of doing this week after week?” I ask him seriously. “It’s not too late to back out now.” I add in next.
“You know I won’t, Tate. I’ll be fine, just gotta get used to it is all.” He leans in and kisses the side of my temple. “You and me, baby mama.” I chuckle as soon as the words leave his mouth. He always knows how to lighten the mood.
“Tatum?” A feminine voice calls from an open door. My heart rate picks up as soon as I hear it. Here goes nothing.
Cohen follows closely behind me, and his mother behind him as I follow the small petite nurse down a long and narrow hallway. The nurse has me step on a scale first to get my weight, and then in the small boxy room takes my blood pressure. The first few minutes is just like a normal doctors exam. The nurse asks me a handful of questions, getting my history on just about everything in my life.
“And what about you, Dad?” She asks with a gentle smile as she pins her attention to Cohen and begins to ask him questions about himself and family history. I almost have a heart attack when he answers almost every question with a straight face. Once she gets the results back from the urine test she had me take, which is in fact positive, it feels as if the appointment is full speed ahead. She finally instructs me to lay back on the small table bed.
“Alright, Tatum. I’m going to apply this jelly right to your lower abdomen, and it’s going to be kind of cold alright?” I shake my head in agreement with her as I nervously look around the room. Cohen is beside me with his fingers threaded through mine while his mom Kathy waits patiently in the corner adjacent to me. The nurse preps a small wand after gently squirting the jelly across my lower abdomen. I suck in a deep breath as the wand hits my skin and wait. And wait. And wait.
“Okay.” She says out loud, but to no one particular. She moves the wand around some more, searching for something in the back of my mind I hope is not there. “And there it is.” She smiles widely as the room is filled with a racing heart beat.
My first thought, is I’ve never heard anything like this before. I feel like anything before this moment was just white noise. A low rumble of noises and words thrown together that never made any sense. Until right now. Until this very second.
/> A squeeze of my fingers brings me back to the hear and now. My eyes travel from the small screen and back to Cohen. My best friend, who seems just as entranced in the moment as I am. We’re not emotional people. We’re thick skinned and strong boned, but the tiny heart beat of an unborn baby has tears threatening to spill down my cheeks. The soft glimmer in Cohen’s eyes tells me he’s feeling just the same. It’s wild. It’s crazy. The feeling inside me right now is one I’ve never experienced in my entire life. This was never a thought on my mind, having a baby, hearing it’s heart beat. This wasn’t anything I had ever cared to think of or imagine. I used to be self absorbed and stuck in my own head. It’s the exact reason I’m sitting here in this room with Cohen’s mother and not my own.
The words coming out of the nurse’s mouth are all a blur as my mind rambles down a path of it’s own. Something I know I’ll regret once I leave here and I have no clue on what I need to get or what I’ll need to do. More words are said than I can keep up with or even begin to concentrate on. Cohen must sense this as he tries his best to draw me back to reality.
“Tate.” I hear his voice, but my brain still tries to catch up to what my ears are actually hearing. “Tatum?” He tries again and I’m finally able to respond.
“Yeah?” I croak. It feels as if there’s a ball of cotton stuffed in my throat.
“Did you hear her?” He asks me in a quiet whisper.
“Hear what?” I ask him. My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.
“She was talking about everything you’ll need to get.” He shoots me a look. One that says I need to start paying attention.
“You’ll need to schedule your next appointment with the receptionist on your way out.” The nurse tells me as she pulls the wand away and turns off the ultrasound machine.
“That’s it?” I ask out loud. Both Cohen and his mother send me odd looks.