Fool Me Once

by Ash, Nikki

  “I’m moving to South Carolina. It’s pointless.”

  “We can be pen pals.”

  “Nobody writes letters anymore.” I roll my eyes.

  “Texting pals.” He smiles that beautiful, sexy grin. The one that shows both of his dimples.

  Seeing Brenton’s car pulling around, I give in, not wanting my sister to know about Keegan. “Fine.” I grab Keegan’s phone and, pulling up his notepad, since it’s the first thing I spot, I type in my number. I hand it back to him, then standing on my tiptoes, give his cheek a chaste kiss.

  “I gotta go. It was fun,” I say before I walk away, refusing to look back at the handsome man I know, if given the chance, I could easily fall in love with.

  Blakely

  Two months later

  “It’s positive,” Dr. Peterson says with a small smile.

  “Positive… meaning you’re positive I’m not pregnant?”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “The test was positive. You’re pregnant.”

  “Maybe there’s something else that can cause a false positive. Like… an STD? Maybe I have Chlamydia or Herpes…”

  Sierra snorts from her chair. When she caught me throwing up for the hundredth time, she insisted I go to the doctor.

  “B, please. What if something is seriously wrong with you?”

  “I probably have a bug,” I argue, not even believing my own words.

  “What if you’re pregnant, or worse, what if you have cancer or something?” Tears pool in her lids, and my heart expands. This is the first time since before our parents died that I’ve seen her show any type of emotion.

  Sierra steps toward me and takes my hands in hers. “I-I can’t lose you, B. Please, for me, go.”

  There was no way I could say no to her after that. So, she made me an appointment—at our gynecologist office, because even though I told her there was no way I could be pregnant, she didn’t believe me—and here we are…

  “You’re wishing for an STD?” Sierra laughs.

  “Well, it would be better than being pregnant!” I shout, my voice cracking at the end. “An STD is curable! Pregnancy is… not.” Tears prick my eyes, and my sister cuts across the room and pulls me into her arms.

  “Shh… it’s okay,” she coos. Her words are meant to soothe me, but having my sister hug me for the first time in almost two years does the opposite. The wall I’ve been building to protect my heart from her crumbles, and every emotion I’ve been holding in flows out of me as I cry in my sister’s arms.

  “I can’t be pregnant,” I sob. “I can’t be.”

  “We’ll figure it out,” Sierra says, pulling back. Her hands cup the sides of my cheeks. “You’re my sister, and I’ll be right by your side.” These are the words I’ve been waiting to hear for years, but not under these circumstances. Oh, the irony…

  “No, you don’t get it,” I say exasperated. “I can’t be pregnant.” I glance over at the doctor. “The guy I slept with… We used protection every single time.”

  Sierra gives me a curious look. She’ll definitely be asking me later who this guy is.

  “Any form of birth control is never one hundred percent effective,” Dr. Peterson says softly. I know she’s right, but we used one every damn time. I would’ve known it if something went wrong, right?

  “I’ve put an order in for an ultrasound,” she says. “I’m just waiting for the room to become available. We’ll be able to confirm it then.” She takes a deep breath, then adds, “If you’re not in a place to have a baby, please know you have options.” Her eyes meet mine, and my stomach drops at the look of pity she’s giving me. “Once we confirm it, one way or another, we’ll go from there.”

  The nurse pops her head in and lets the doctor know the room is available, and Sierra and I follow her into the dark room. I lie on the bed and spread my thighs, and Dr. Peterson walks me through what she’s doing as she pushes a dildo-looking thing into me. The screen lights up, and a loud whooshing sound comes over the speakers. It reminds me of the beach on a windy day.

  “That’s the heartbeat,” Dr. Peterson says. The breath I didn’t know I was holding releases, turning into a choked sob. Tears stream down my face, the warm drops of devastation landing in my ears. She probes around inside of me, clicking and freezing the screen a few times. “You appear to be roughly eight weeks along, due December 14. This can change over time. It’s hard to be exact this early in the pregnancy. But everything looks good.” She pulls the dildo out of me, then hands me a couple black and white images—my baby.

  “I’m going to give you a few minutes,” Dr. Peterson says. “Once you’re ready, you can go get dressed and then meet me in my office, so we can talk.”

  Once the doctor leaves, closing the door behind her, Sierra grabs my hand and entwines our fingers together as I stare at the tiny blob through my blurred vision. “Don’t cry, B, please,” she begs. “It’s going to be okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” I tell her. “No matter what decision I make, it will never be okay.”

  I begin to play out every possible scenario for Sierra. “I keep the baby, and I have to drop out of school. I’ll have to raise it by myself. Keegan never texted. I gave—”

  “Who’s Keegan?” Sierra asks, cutting me off.

  “The guy I slept with,” I admit sheepishly.

  “Where? When?” Her brows come together in confusion.

  “Cocoa Beach during spring break.”

  Sierra frowns. “You slept with someone two months ago and never told me…” It’s not a question, but more of an observation. The way her eyes widen and her brows furrow, it’s as if she’s finally realizing what she’s done. I hold my breath, hoping and praying she doesn’t push me away and run out the door. I’m not sure I can handle her stepping halfway through the door only to walk back out. Leaving me to deal with my future alone.

  “You haven’t spoken to me in two years,” I say nervously. “I didn’t really think to confide in you about my sex life.”

  “No.” She shakes her head. “I know.” Tears brim her lids. “I just can’t believe how long we’ve gone without talking.” Her light brown eyes meet mine. “I pushed you away and you kept begging me to let you in. Our mom has been gone for two years. Two years.” She throws her arms around me, and I wrap mine around her as she cries into my shoulder, finally opening up and letting her grief surface. “You’re my best friend,” she says through her cries. “I’m so sorry. I’m such a horrible sister. Things are going to be different, starting right now.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her. And it is. She’s my sister. Of course I’m going to forgive her. “Everybody handles grief in their own way.”

  Sierra pulls back, and we both wipe our eyes. “I’m such a mess,” Sierra says through a sobbing laugh. “Thank you for being so patient. I promise I’m never going to push you away again.”

  “Good, I’m holding you to that. I love you, S.”

  “I love you more, B.”

  We sit in silence for a long beat and then Sierra says, “So, this guy… Keegan…”

  “We spent some time together… ended up hooking up.” I shrug. “I was okay leaving without exchanging numbers, but after he left, he came back and practically begged me to give him my number. So, I did.”

  “And, he what? Never called?”

  “Nope, not a single call or text.”

  “Okay,” she says with a nod. “First things first. We have to figure out where to go from here, and then, once you make a decision, we’ll figure out how to find him. We live in a technology-obsessed world. How hard can it be to find someone? What’s his last name?”

  When I don’t say anything, instead chewing on my bottom lip, Sierra groans. “Don’t tell me you don’t know it.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know it.” How could I not have gotten his last name?

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “Yes!” I exclaim, happy I at least know that. “Carterville. He said he lives and
goes to school there.”

  “All right, well, that’s a start. Let’s go talk to Dr. Peterson.”

  Sierra grabs a few tissues out of the holder and hands them to me. “I’ll wait for you in her office, so you can get cleaned up.”

  “Okay.”

  She walks away, but before she opens the door, I call out her name. She turns around, and it’s in this moment, I’ve never been more grateful to have my sister by my side.

  “I know these last few years have been rough, but thank you for coming with me today. For coming back to me. I really missed you.”

  “You’re my sister, B,” she says, every word filled with emotion. “All we have is each other. I’m just sorry it took you getting knocked up for me to snap out of my shit.”

  Sierra and I leave the doctor’s office with three pamphlets, each one stating a different option: abortion, adoption, and what to expect when becoming a mother. The ride home on the bus is quiet, both of us lost in thought. I might be the one who has to make the decision, but the thing with my sister and me is when one of us is faced with a hard choice, it’s as if we both are. And she proved it today in the doctor’s office. Once she found out I wasn’t dying, she could’ve easily pushed me away. Locking her heart back up to keep it safe like she’s been doing since our parents died. But she didn’t do that. She held my hand and told me we would figure it out together. And I know that no matter what choice I make, she’ll support me. I finally have my sister back.

  We get home and Jordan is in the kitchen chopping vegetables for lunch. She cooks every meal. She takes one look at Sierra’s and my tear-stricken faces, and stops what she’s doing. “What happened?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurt out, and her eyes widen. Sierra’s hand finds mine, and I take a breath of relief. It feels so good to have my sister by my side again.

  “Oh, no, Blakely.” Jordan envelops me in a hug. “How far along are you?”

  “Eight weeks.”

  “And the father?”

  “I have no clue how to find him.”

  She pulls back and guides me over to the table. Sierra and I sit quietly, while Jordan goes about making us each a hot cup of tea. Once she’s done, she joins us, and getting right to the matter at hand, asks, “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” I say truthfully.

  Jordan sighs heavily. “Listen, Blakely, I care about you. I care about both of you, but—”

  “I know,” I tell her, not needing to hear what she’s about to say. She’s in her late sixties. She’s been fostering children her entire adult life, but isn’t looking to adopt, let alone take on a teenager with a newborn.

  “If I were younger…”

  “I promise you, I get it.” I place my hand over hers. “You’ve done enough. You took Sierra and me in together when no one else would. You’ve allowed me to stay here until graduation even though I’m eighteen. I would never ask you to take me and my baby on.”

  Jordan nods. “Speaking of graduation… Nothing will get figured out before tomorrow. So, I say you try to set this news aside…” When I give her a yeah, okay look, she continues. “I know it will be hard, but you two deserve to enjoy your big day. You’re about to be high school graduates. And afterward, you can take a look at all your options and decide what’s best. If you need to stay a little longer, until you figure out what you’re doing, you can stay.”

  “Thank you,” I say with a forced smile.

  Three months later

  “How are you feeling?” Sierra asks when I walk into our room and drop onto my bed, my hand instinctually going to my protruding baby bump. These last few months I’ve experienced a myriad of emotions.

  Sadness—when I found out the college I’m planning to attend can’t accommodate me with a baby in tow. There’s a waiting list a mile long, and by the time I would get in, I would lose my entire scholarship. Which means the only way I can go to South Carolina is without my baby.

  Anger—both, at myself, and Keegan—when I searched for him online, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I know it’s because I have no damn last name to search, and that thought made me even more mad. How could I be so reckless that I spent days with a man, having sex and getting to know him on a personal level, yet I never took the time to find out his last name?

  Anxiousness—when I hit my lowest point and decided my only option was to go to the clinic and get an abortion.

  Relief—when Sierra refused to allow me to go until we talked through it, and I recognized I was just scared and couldn’t really go through with it.

  Sadness—again—when I came to the conclusion that my only other option was adoption, and in less than five months, I’m going to have to hand my baby over to someone who is able to care for him like he deserves. And yes, I say him because I’m now twenty weeks along and found out today that I’m having a little boy.

  When the doctor handed me the ultrasound pictures, my first thought was if he’ll have Keegan’s dimples, and then I lost it. I told Sierra I needed some time alone. She was hesitant to let me go, but we agreed to meet back at home.

  If you can even call it that. Ever since I’ve made the choice not to abort my baby, Jordan has grown distant. I don’t blame her, though. This isn’t what she signed up for.

  And then when I put off starting classes at Columbia until the fall, the distance grew considerably wider. I explained I just needed time to figure out what I’m going to do, but I think she’s worried I’m not going to college anymore. I’m supposed to be leaving in less than two weeks for orientation, and I haven’t said what I’m doing one way or another.

  While Jordan hasn’t come right out and said anything, Sierra turning eighteen last week means we’re both eighteen and now adults. It’s time for us to figure out our next step. Plus, it’s not fair to continue to live off Jordan, especially when she could be using our room to foster a child in need.

  During my long walk home, I did a lot of thinking and I’ve come to a decision.

  “B,” Sierra prompts. “Are you okay?” She moves from her bed to mine.

  “If I can’t go to college, I can’t support my baby,” I whisper, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking louder. “I-I…” I close my eyes, not wanting to see the look she gives me when I tell her what I’ve decided. “I’m going to give the baby up for adoption.” My head drops to my chest and sobs rack my entire body at the thought of giving him up. But what other choice do I have?

  “Look at me,” Sierra says, her fingers tapping my chin, so I’ll lift my head back up. When I open my eyes, she says, “Is that really what you want? Because if it is, I’ll support you one hundred percent. I’ll be there for you any way I can. But we both know I can’t move to South Carolina with you because I’ll have nowhere to live.” She’s right. When we were younger and planned to live together wherever I went to college, we thought our parents would pay for our apartment. Obviously things have changed.

  “But listen…” she continues, scooting closer and taking my hands in hers. “We lost everyone. It’s just us. This baby you’re carrying is a part of us. He has your blood running through his veins. If you want to keep him, I will do whatever I have to do to help you. Columbia wasn’t the only college you were accepted to. It’s the college you chose to go to. If you pick one in the area, we can get a place together, and I’ll work full-time while you go to school.”

  “You’d do that?” I choke out. It’s crazy how much my sister has changed back to her old self since I found out I was pregnant. She never hangs out with her ‘friends’ anymore. She got a full-time job working as a waitress at a popular restaurant in town. And every dime she makes, she says she’s stowing away for our future.

  “Of course I would. This baby is my family—our family. I’m not trying to sway you one way or the other. I know how important Columbia is to you, and if that’s what you want, I’ve got your back. But I need you to know that’s not your only option. You’re not alone in this.”


  And then it hits me. “Carterville accepted me on a full scholarship.” I run over to my dresser and grab the acceptance letters, finding the one I’m looking for. “I can call them and see if maybe they have a family dorm available. I can ask if you would be able to live with me.”

  “Okay.” She nods. “Call. But if it’s not possible, we can still get a place. The most important thing is that your college is paid for.”

  I give them a call and, after explaining my situation, the person in charge tells me there’s a waiting list for this August, but if I wanted to defer a year, they could get me in for next August.

  “Would I lose my scholarship?” I ask.

  The lady looks up my information and says, “You are allowed to defer one year for medical purposes. Having a baby would fall under that category. You could start next August. Also, your scholarship doesn’t require you to live on campus. It states that we’ll pay a set amount toward your living expenses, which means you can actually live anywhere and with anyone you’d like, and if your expenses are more, you would just have to pay the difference.” I give Sierra a look, asking if she’s okay with all of this, and when she nods, I tell the lady that’s what I’m going to do.

  “This is crazy,” I tell Sierra when I get off the phone. “How am I going to raise a baby and go to school?”

  “We’re going to raise a baby,” Sierra tells me. “We’ve both been saving all summer, so we can afford a place in Carterville. We’ll spend the next year getting situated, and once the baby is…” We both do the math in our heads.

  “He’ll be eight months old,” I tell her.

  “When he’s eight months old, you’ll start school. We got this.”

  “And what if we don’t?” My head is spinning. It feels like I only just found out I was pregnant. Now I’m making plans for well after he’s born.

  “That’s not an option.”

  And just like that, my future has been paved. Only this time, it includes my sister—my best friend—by my side.