by Catherine Lo
Annie texted me before school this morning to say she was running late and that I should go on without her. I walked to school alone, worrying over her having ditched me so close to us making up from our fight.
By the time first period was over, I’d convinced myself that she had reconsidered our friendship. So when I spotted her scanning the crowd in the hallway, it didn’t even register that she might be looking for me.
As soon as she saw me, though, relief spread across her face. She made a beeline through the foyer, cutting off kids as if she didn’t even see them.
She grabbed me by the arm and leaned into me. “Thank God you’re here. I’ve been dying to talk to you all morning.” She looked panic-stricken, and my mind got tangled up between relief that she was happy to see me and fear over the look in her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“In here,” she hissed, dragging me into the bathroom by the arm. “I need your help.” She held up a finger for silence while the bathroom emptied of the between-classes crowd.
I felt lighter. Annie chose me. She had a problem and she was turning to me.
“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” She sounded excited. Her words were vibrating with an unnerving mixture of hope and dread. She pulled a plastic bag out of her backpack and clutched it to her chest. With her eyes wide and cheeks pink she looked like my Annie again. She looked like the first day of school.
“Of course not!”
“Okay . . .” She dragged out the word like she was about to reveal something wondrous, and my eyes widened with expectation.
But what she pulled out of the bag was a red and white box that took my breath away. The room swam around me as though we’d suddenly been plunged underwater.
“I know!” she practically shouted, and I looked reflexively toward the door, afraid we’d get caught. “I know it’s terrible and awful, and I should be crying and freaking out . . . and I’m not exactly happy about it or anything. God, I don’t even really believe it could be true . . . but I’m late, Jess. I’m late and I’m freaking, and I just have to know, you know?”
She finally stopped talking and looked at me, waiting for me to say something. Waiting for me to reassure her. To put my arm around her and tell her everything would be okay. I could see the scene unfolding the way she wanted it to, but I just couldn’t make myself cooperate.
Instead, I blurted, “You had sex!” I’d meant it to be a question, but it came out an accusation.
“Duh.”
“What were you thinking?” I had suddenly become my mother. I knew I was handling it all wrong. I didn’t really care so much that she’d had sex, beyond being insanely jealous and enormously curious. What really bothered me . . . what still cuts me so deep that I can barely breathe, is that she did it without talking to me. She thought about it, debated it, made her decision, and did it without ever, not even once, mentioning it to me.
“Jesus, Jess! I need help, not a lecture.”
I took a deep breath and tried to focus my thoughts. “Okay. Let’s think about this logically. You still have a week before your period is due.”
“What?”
“Your period. It’s due next week.”
“I don’t even want to know how you know that, but I’m late from the one before.”
“You’re three weeks late and just noticing now?”
“I don’t keep track of these things!”
I eyed the box. “You haven’t taken the test yet, right?”
She shook her head.
“Let’s do it, then,” I said, slinging my backpack into the corner. “It’s not like either of us will be able to focus in class until we know.”
Annie disappeared into a stall, and I heard the package rip open. A moment later, a little folded booklet came skidding out from under the stall. “Read that! I’m too nervous.”
I scanned the pamphlet, my hands shaking. “Sounds pretty easy. Take the cap off, pee on the ‘absorbent tip,’ and then put the cap back on. We should know in three minutes.”
We shared a giggle at the term absorbent tip before the bathroom fell silent. When I heard Annie peeing, I got so scared I thought I might throw up. What the hell were we going to do?
She came out of the stall holding the stick in front of her as if it were a weapon. She set it on the edge of the sink, and we stared at my watch as the seconds ticked by. Neither of us peeked at the test.
At two minutes and seventeen seconds, we heard the bathroom door pull open. We both moved to block the test from view. A nervous-looking girl peered at us, obviously curious about why we’d formed a human wall in front of one of the sinks, but she thought better of asking. We stayed motionless, not even talking, until she finished, washed her hands, and left.
“Three minutes have definitely passed.” Now that it was time to look, I wanted to run away.
Annie looked at me for a long moment. “Thanks for this, Jess,” she breathed.
I nodded at her, and we both turned around at the same time. In front of us was the white plastic stick. There were two pink lines in the little window.
“I don’t suppose two lines means negative?” she asked.
I didn’t answer. I just passed her the booklet that contained the bad news. Two lines meant pregnant. Two lines meant a baby.
Annie picked up the pregnancy test and tossed it into the garbage. “Well, fuck . . .” she said awkwardly, not meeting my eyes.
“I won’t tell anyone,” I reassured her. “And we’ll fix this, I promise. We just need information. We can go to a guidance counselor if you want . . . or maybe your family doctor? I’ll go with you. We can find out where to get it done there.”
She was nodding her head along with what I was saying, until I got to my last sentence. Then she stopped and looked at me, confused. “Get what done?”
“You know, the . . . procedure.”
She was still looking at me blankly.
“The thing . . . the abortion.” I whispered the last word, feeling the crushing weight of it in my chest.
“Jess!” Her eyes widened in shock, and she backed away from me as though I were something monstrous. “Who said anything about an abortion?” Like me, she couldn’t say the word without whispering.
“Well, it’s not like you can keep it!”
“This is all so . . . I just found out. You can’t expect me to know what I want to do right this instant!”
“What do you mean—know what you want to do? What options do you have? You can’t seriously be thinking about having this baby. You’re fifteen, for God’s sake. Are you really going to walk through these halls with a giant pregnant belly for everyone to see?”
“Oh my God,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “I didn’t . . . I mean . . . I haven’t thought about it. I just . . .”
“Look, Annie. Let’s call your doctor and make an appointment. We can ask him about . . . abortions . . . and get information. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but I’m assuming that there’s some kind of time limit on this sort of thing. Let’s get information first and then decide what to do.”
She gave her head a quick shake, as though she were waking from a dream. “I got it, Jess. Thanks, though.”
“You got what?”
“I’ll go to the doctor and everything. I don’t need you to come.”
“But I want to. I want to help you.”
She looked at me strangely. “I know you want to help, but the only two people who get a say in what we do are me and Scott.”
“Right. Of course. I just thought . . . I mean, you said you needed my help. Why did you drag me in here if you didn’t want me to help?”
“I wanted you here for moral support. Not to schedule an abortion for me. I need to think about things and talk to Scott. This is serious, Jess! It’s a life.”
Her words shamed me. I know it’s a life . . . and yet I can’t help feeling like it’s not, too. This was Annie’s life we were talking about, and I couldn
’t believe she wasn’t putting herself first. She made a mistake, for God’s sake! I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea that she might consider throwing her entire life away at fifteen because of a mistake.
I nodded at her, embarrassed. “I just want to help,” I said as she fumbled with her bag. “Any way I can, Annie. Seriously. I’m here for you.”
“I know you are,” Annie said, and she gave me a little hug before rushing past me. “I just need some time to think.”
I stayed in the bathroom and watched her go, feeling as if the world were spiraling away from me. How could something so momentous happen in this dingy little room? I gathered my stuff and headed for the door, passing the trash can on the way out. I didn’t want to look inside but couldn’t help myself. The plastic stick was sitting there, right on top of the wastebasket for anyone to see. It looked almost obscene, and I couldn’t believe she hadn’t hidden it at the bottom of the trash or wrapped it in the plastic bag before throwing it away. I stopped, debating, and then grabbed some paper towels and threw them on top, pushing the test down and hiding it from view.
Annie
Before now, I’d always thought that people who couldn’t make up their mind about something were full of shit. I figured they knew what they wanted but didn’t have the balls to admit it and so pretended to be torn. I’d never been torn before.
I am now.
Some days I fall asleep willing myself to miscarry in the night. I don’t want to deal with this shit. I think of my dad finding out, or Madge’s face when she hears . . . even of Scott’s reaction, and I want to be sick, I’m so scared. On those days, I know I need to figure out how to have an abortion. I lie in bed imagining I’m starting to feel cramping coming. I close my eyes so tight I can see flashes of light on my eyelids, and I put all my energy into ending this pregnancy. I send every negative thought I can muster down into my belly and try to push the little baby out of me along with all my frustration and fear and anger.
And then there are days like today. Today, I swear there is a little ball of light inside me. It’s like . . . like I have a treasure no one knows about but me. And it’s something so precious that I have to protect it no matter what. On days like this, I start to think about other ways this story could end. I imagine myself having the baby and giving it up to some fabulous couple who are dying to have a child. They’re smart and rich and young, and they give my little girl or boy the best of everything, and I get to go through the rest of my life knowing I did something selfless and beautiful.
Or I could keep the baby. I imagine myself holding my little one for the first time. In that fantasy, it’s always a girl. I look into her little eyes and fall in love and know that no matter what happens, we’ll have each other. I keep the memory of my own mother alive by being exactly that type of mom to my baby. It’s us against everyone else—everyone who doubted or abandoned me when I got pregnant—and she grows up never having to know anyone like Madge.
And this is what I mean by being torn. Because on the days I don’t want to be pregnant, the feeling is just as strong and as real as on the days when I want to have this baby.
So here I am, less than a week before my sixteenth birthday, holding on to a secret that could completely change my life.
Jessie
Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.
I can’t get last night out of my brain. I feel like puking every time I think about it, but no matter what I do, the horrifying scenes keep playing over and over again in my mind. It doesn’t help that my mother has been screaming at me about it all day. And she doesn’t even know a fraction of what happened.
Annie betrayed me.
The night started out so promising, which is what really kills me. I remember how confident I felt on the way to the party. I’d cashed in on my mother’s relief that I was actually attending a real high school party, and we’d spent the entire day preparing. She bought me an outrageously expensive new outfit, took me to the salon to have my hair smoothed into shiny waves, and to Sephora to have my makeup professionally done. I felt pretty and hopeful and excited. I was so, so stupid. What made me think that dressing up would make me into someone new?
Things started into a downward spiral pretty much from the time I walked into Larissa’s house. My finger had barely touched the doorbell when a frazzled-looking Larissa whipped open the door and yanked me into the house by my jacket. “Hi, Jess,” she said absently, spotting some boys sneaking through a door behind her. “Back downstairs!” she yelled, her hands shaking as she pointed them back to the basement. “Can you help?” She begged me. “My parents aren’t home and things are getting out of control. This is the first time they’ve trusted me with an unsupervised party, and way too many people are here. I think Courtney invited the whole world.”
She didn’t even notice my new hairstyle or my two-hundred-dollar jeans. And when I pulled the bottles of vodka I’d stolen from my parents’ liquor cabinet out of my pockets with a flourish, she jumped between me and the basement door and hissed, “Put those away!
“There’s way too much booze down there already. I want everyone to stop drinking,” she explained, wringing her hands. “Someone’s gonna puke on the carpet, I just know it.”
I stuffed the bottles back in my jacket and left it on the couch in the living room. This was not starting out the way I had hoped.
“Should . . . should we go downstairs?” I prompted.
“In a sec. I’m giving everyone till nine thirty to arrive, and then the doors stay closed. I just want to make sure no one is hanging around the front of the house before then. My neighbors will notice if tons of people show up at once.”
I sighed and leaned against the wall, reassuring myself that my entrance would be grander if I was the last to come downstairs.
“Grab a Coke or something,” Larissa said, waving her hand in the direction of the kitchen. I bit my lip and considered. It was a shame to have gone to the trouble of stealing all that vodka for nothing. And maybe a little liquid courage was just what I needed.
I grabbed one of the bottles on my way past the couch and scurried into the kitchen. I found a stack of red plastic cups on the counter and fumbled with the cap on the vodka bottle before sloshing some into the bottom of a cup. How much was I supposed to add? I eyed the inch of clear liquid at the bottom of the cup and decided to fill it halfway. I wanted enough to take the edge off, and I probably wouldn’t get the chance to mix another drink, with Larissa watching everyone like a hawk.
I topped up the cup with Coke and then stashed the vodka bottle under the sink. I was expecting the worst when I took a sip, but it wasn’t bad at all. I took a huge gulp for courage and then joined Larissa by the front door.
At nine thirty she turned out the lights. “Thanks for the help. Let’s go have fun.” Her voice was strained, though, and I realized she wouldn’t be enjoying the party very much.
“Larissa!” Emily Watson called happily as we came down the stairs. “We’re almos’ out of drinks!”
Larissa grabbed a can of Coke off the nearest table. “Drink this.”
“But there’s nothing left to put in it,” Emily whined, sticking out her lower lip.
Larissa shrugged and wandered off. Emily regarded me coolly. “I don’t suppose you brought any alcohol.”
“Nope!” Larissa shouted from a few feet away, shooting me a warning glance.
I sighed and shook my head, then took another gulp of my drink and turned to survey the room. So much for unveiling my new look. No one really seemed to care who else was here. They were huddled in couples or small groups, talking and laughing. I’d imagined my first high school party looking different than this. This just looked like people hanging out after school.
Annie caught my eye from across the room and gave a happy wave. Then Scott pulled her over to a snack table and I lost sight of her in a group of people.
“Where’s Courtney?” I asked Larissa, working hard to appear casual.
“Oh
shit! I almost forgot. She went on a booze run like an hour ago. Her fake ID is totally sketchy, though. She’ll never score anything.”
I ventured over to the snack table and grabbed a handful of chips . . . and then I started to panic. Even though no one had even noticed me, I suddenly felt like there was a spotlight on my isolation. I searched the crowd for Annie and found her sitting on a couch in the back corner with Scott. Clearly, they wanted to be alone. I feared looking like a loser far more than I feared intruding on a private moment, though, so I took another sip of my drink and made my way over there.
“Happy birthday, Annie!” I shouted over the music.
She smiled up at me and rolled her eyes. “You’re the first person to say that to me.” Scott nudged her, and she laughed. “Okay . . . the second person.” She patted the couch beside her, and I sat down. “Larissa and Courtney were just looking for an excuse to party. They say it’s for my birthday, but you’ll notice they’re not overly interested in what I’m doing.”
Scott put his arm around her consolingly. “Poor you,” he joked. “Stuck here with me and Jess.” He leaned over and winked at me, turning my insides to liquid fire.
“I guess I’ll just have to cope,” Annie said, laughing.
I pulled an envelope out of my bag and presented it to her with a flourish. “Happy sixteenth!”
Annie’s eyes went wide as she opened the card and found the gift certificate to Morton’s Art Supply inside. “Jess!” she said, blinking back tears. “This is my favorite place in the world.” She gave me a long hug. “Thank you.”
I pulled back and searched her eyes. She’s been in denial about the whole pregnancy thing. She won’t even talk about it.
Annie winked at me and clutched the card to her chest before leaning forward and resting her forehead against mine.
“You okay?” I whispered.
She nodded. “This helps.”
I took another sip of my drink and settled back into the couch, feeling warm and . . . happy. The alcohol was starting to do its job, and I felt so wondrously relaxed and content. Prozac alone has never done this for me. Prozac mixed with alcohol was amazing.