So . . . That Happened

by Laci Maskell

  For Christ sake, I'm eighteen years old. I shouldn't be afraid to talk to my parents. It's not like I have a bad relationship with them. No. We've always been somewhat close. I think they just have the belief that children are meant to be seen and not heard. But I'm not a child anymore. If anything, I should be an equal to them. By Nebraska State Law I am an adult now.

  I listen to the silence for moments longer. My parents have all but finished their meal. If I want to say something, it's now or never.

  I wait one, two, three seconds, take a deep breath, and say, "Where are you going tonight?"

  My parents stop, mid chew, to look at me. Questions litter their faces. They both swallow, loudly, and I fear I have done something wrong. Neither of them say anything for many seconds. I am beginning to think I shifted something in the space time continuum.

  Then, my mom clears her throat and says, "We're going to a benefit for a lady you don't know. She has a touch of cancer."

  I want to gawk at my mother's casualness of someone having cancer. I may not know the lady, but calling it a touch of cancer seems too cavalier.

  My father looks at my mother then slowly says, "Would you like to go?"

  "No," I answer. "I just wanted to know what you were doing tonight."

  "Very well," my father says, effectively ending the conversation.

  No-dinner-time-conversation, one.

  Greyson, zero.

  "So, what will you two do without me next year?" I ask in jest, but it is met with stares.

  "We will continue on as we do every day, only without your presence," my father says.

  "Oh," is all I can come up with.

  Three more seconds of silence and I cannot handle it.

  "Football starts soon. That should be exciting."

  "Yes," is all my mother says.

  My father says, "I expect it will not be exciting. You must work very hard if you expect a full ride to UNL. Things you must work hard to achieve are not exciting. They are demanding and challenging. Even serious. Not exciting. I expect you will work very hard this year. No fooling around. No distractions."

  No-dinner-time-conversation, three.

  Greyson, zero.

  I give up.

  I finish my food and unceremoniously make my way to my bedroom. My parents leave for the night without a goodbye.

  I lie on my bed and throw a basketball into the air and catch it when it falls back down. I continue to do so, boredom taking on a whole new meaning. Amelia is spending all of her father's money on a shopping spree with her mother. Jesse is out with his parents for their mandatory monthly parents and Jesse time. Though he said he'd text me when he was finished. And the rest of my friends are not nearly as fun without Ameila and Jesse. The package deal is not always packaged right. I'm not even sure half of our group are friends. The how and when they joined the group is a little foggy. Really, I'd be fine if it was just Jesse, Ameila, and I. But no, Amelia has to be surrounded by a group of followers at all times. Her subjects must know she is in demand and loved by all. The fearsome threesome will never again be.

  I throw the basketball up and down, up and down, until it becomes tedious, which does not take long.

  Reaching around me, I search for the TV remote. Maybe there will be something entertaining on. Unlikely, but it never hurts to check.

  If I was someone who cheated on girls, I would not be home right now. There are many girls who would love a piece of me.

  Ugh. Why can I not entertain myself for one night? I am used to silence. Why can't I live with it right now?

  I forget about the remote and close my eyes, letting my mind drift. Images of a girl play in my mind. She is small. She has creamy white skin and an amazing body. This is a body I have spent a lot of time thinking about lately. It is only when I get to her beautiful blue eyes that I realize it is not Amelia I am imagining. But her. The girl from the party. The one I left naked in my bed.

  My eyes snap open and I can no longer lie in my bed. I have to get out of here. I grab my keys from the bedside table and walk for the door just as my phone chimes. A message from Jesse's sister Leah pops up.

  Hey, Jesse's phone died. He's home. He said for you to come over.

  Thank God. Jesse is just the person to take my mind off of her. Well, Amelia would be the better choice. But right now Jesse is all I've got.

  I hop into my baby, my Dodge Charger, and drive off to Jesse's house.

  When I knock on the door, Leah answers.

  Before I can say, hey, where's Jesse? Leah says, "Jesse isn't here. I lied. But there is someone here you need to talk to."

  I don't know what to do. I stand rooted to my spot while I contemplate my options. I could leave, which is really what I want to do. I could stay and see who it is who wants to talk to me, because my curiosity is piqued. Or I could, well, really I'm out of options. Before I can make a decision, it is made for me. And the girl I spend too much time thinking about stands before me.

  "Greyson," Lux says quietly.

  "Pretty girl," I say, the breath escaping my lungs. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize my mistake, but clearly Leah knows something so it's not like I outed myself.

  "Don't call her that," Leah says, crossing her arms. Clearly she's not amused.

  "So you remember me?" Lux asks, something akin to joy or hope flickering on her face.

  "He better," Leah chimes in.

  Lux smiles but says, "Leah, I’ve got this."

  My eyes glance towards the door. I could make an escape.

  "Don't even think about it," Leah says.

  "What is going on?" I ask. No longer amused. No longer wanting to play games.

  "Lux has something she needs to tell you and you are going to listen. Got it?" Leah says, insistent. She has more confidence than I've seen in her.

  "Okay," I say, having no idea where this is going.

  Leah herds me into the living room. I hear Lux's soft footsteps behind us.

  There is an uncomfortable amount of silence, then Leah turns on me and says, "You hurt her in any way, physically, emotionally, mentally, any way, and I will get my daddy's gun. Understood?"

  "Yes, Leah. Understood," I say nonchalantly, though I don't feel too comfortable.

  Leah stares at me menacingly for a moment longer and leaves the room.

  I turn to Lux who has one arm across her chest and rubs her arm. She looks nervous and possibly like she might be sick.

  "Um, were you going to say something?" I ask, impatiently.

  Lux jumps like I've frightened her. She is so different than the girl I met at the party. Maybe I dreamt the whole thing.

  "Do you remember the party?"

  "I remember the party," I snip at her. "It was at my house."

  "Do you remember . . . what we did?"

  "As much as I wouldn't like to, yes," I say. Maybe to hurt her feelings. Maybe I just don't want to feel bad for thinking about her. Maybe I'm just an asshole.

  Lux frowns. What did she expect? I'm Greyson Fletcher. If Leah wasn't my best friend's sister I wouldn't tolerate her. Lux is not my best friend's sister. I don't have to spare her feelings.

  "Why are you here? Didn't you hear? I'm back together with Amelia. If you are expecting an encore, you're not going to get one."

  "I heard you were back together," she says, weak, as if she has no spine.

  "Then what do you want?" I ask, impatient.

  Lux's nostrils flare. I've made her mad. "I thought you might want to know that I'm pregnant. And it's yours."

  "What did you just say?" I ask, though I heard her loud and clear.

  "I'm pregnant," she says, more softly this time.

  My breath leaves me. I cannot breathe. And I try incredibly hard. Surely she didn't just say that. My sight has left me. My vision darkens around the edges. Am I having a heart attack? Is this what that feels like?

  I blink several times to clear my vision then breathe deep. This is not happening to me. This has got to be some jo
ke Lux and Leah came up with to mess with me. She doesn't even look pregnant.

  "Is this a joke? Because it's not funny. Alright? We had sex one time, with protection. You're not pregnant. If this is some trick to get me to dump Amelia, it's not going to work. If it's some trick to get my money, it's not going to work. Whatever this is, it's not going to work."

  "I've taken like a thousand tests, alright. I'm pregnant."

  "Well it's not mine," I say, adamantly.

  "You're the only one I've ever slept with. And by the way, thank you for ruining my first time. I thought you were different. Boy was I wrong. Do you leave every girl naked and ashamed or did I just receive special treatment?"

  Images of that night play across my mind. I panicked after the condom snapped and left her. I was a dick, yeah, but a scared dick. Oh my god. This is all my fault. I should have told her the condom snapped. She is pregnant because of me. I'm going to be a father all because of my selfishness and stupidity.

  Recognition flashes in Lux's eyes and she knows.

  "You knew," she says, losing her breath. "You knew. Didn't you? Oh my God. You knew." Lux clutches her stomach and doubles over. "I'm going to be sick."

  "You're not going to tell anyone are you?" Again with the selfishness. With a dash of pride. But I can't have anyone know I am going to have a baby. Let alone that I had sex with the schools outcast. I would be shunned. I would be mocked. I wouldn't be able to show my face there again.

  She glares up at me, fury in the cute little face of hers. "No. I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't want to be associated with the likes of you. You disgust me."

  I move toward her, wanting to touch her, but she flinches and says, "Don't touch me."

  "You were there too, princess. It takes two to tango. And if I recall you were very willing."

  "That's how this is going to be? Fine. It's all my fault because I wanted to have sex with Greyson Fucking Flethcer, my bad. Now I'm pregnant and it's all my fault. Perfect Greyson will stay untouched. Don't worry."

  "What do you want from me?" I ask. "You want money? I can give you that. But you won't have me, and you won't tell anyone."

  "You want to give me hush money? No. I don't want anything from you, asshole. My parents just thought you should know you were going to be a father. Clearly they were wrong."

  Oh my God her parents know. This could not be any worse. Of course it could. My parents could know. That would be worse. Especially after the stay-focused-no-distractions-no-exciting speech. Shit. I got a girl pregnant.

  This could destroy me.

  "Are you keeping it?" I ask.

  "I don't know," Lux yells at me. "Obviously you want nothing to do with it. I'm seventeen, how could I possibly take care of a baby, let alone afford it?"

  "I told you-,"

  "I don't want your money, Greyson."

  "I-,"

  "Just don't. You know. I've done my part. Now we can go back to life as it was. I'll be the loser I am and you can go back to being King Greyson. I don't want anything from you and I will never bother you again."

  "Lux, I-," I try again.

  "No," she says and walks out of the room.

  Lux, one.

  Greyson, zero.

  I collapse onto the couch knowing Lux and Leah are somewhere in the house. I could find them and confront Lux. Surely she has to talk to me. But why would I want to talk to her? I don't want anything to do with the baby. I don't want anything to do with Lux. She gave me an out. I'm going to take it. I don't have to feel bad about this. I won't feel bad about this.

  I pull my shit together enough to get my ass off the couch and to the door.

  Jesse walks through just as I am reaching for the knob. "Hey, man. Give me a second to change and we can hang out."

  I don't even look at him as I rush past him saying, "I can't tonight. Gotta go."

  I get in my baby, ugh, I shudder at the word, and speed off.

  I drive in a haze. I'm not even sure how I make it home, and in one piece for that matter.

  I can't go to my room. Lux is in there. I don't think I can even sleep in my bed again, let alone have Amelia in it.

  I find my way to my father's liquor cabinet, grab anything memory loss inducing, then proceed to forget this night ever happened.

  Chapter Four

  Twelve Weeks

  Lux

  I sit in the small waiting room, waiting.

  The room is what you might expect from a doctor’s office waiting room, semi comfortable chairs, magazines of various parenting, medical, and entertainment assortments. There are two other women in the waiting room. Both of them are very pregnant. Like, about to pop pregnant. I don’t expect to see them in the next appointments. A flat screen TV is posted on one wall. The Today Show is on, but there is no sound. It’s the last concert of their summer concert series. The singer is some up and coming girl who looks like she could be fifteen and on her way to prom. Even without the sound I can tell she is lip singing and is auto tuned like no other.

  I turn away from the TV in search of something else to distract me.

  I’m nervous.

  Today is a big day.

  I have my first ultrasound today.

  After I told my parents about my being pregnant, my mom took me to the doctor to find out for sure. I was sure, my body was sure, but my mom wanted to be sure. Doctor tested sure.

  Now we're sure.

  So is the entire population of Attica, Nebraska.

  The mom of a freshman in school works at the doctor's office. Despite every law about doctor patient confidentiality, or whatever, as soon as I saw her that first appointment, I knew my whole school would know I am pregnant.

  I wasn't sure at first how my so called peers would react to the news, but I can't say it turned out as I expected. Most of the students still ignore me. Which, I have to say, is a good thing. I've grown up being invisible. I kind of wanted to stay that way. There are many students who still don't believe that a) anyone would have sex with me, and b) a baby could possibly fit in my tiny body. Personally, I'm waiting to see that one happen. Then there are the Posh People, Greyson and Amelia's group. The boys like to snicker and sneer, while the girls are much worse. I have not gained a pound since being pregnant, but oh no, you would think I've gained fifty the way they make fun of me. Watch out every one. Wide load coming through. Wouldn't want to get trampled. And that is them being nice.

  I miss the days where they left me alone. I miss the days I was invisible to anyone remotely more popular than I am. At least I have Leah as a buffer, and as a bit of a body guard. Literally.

  "Lux? Are you okay?" my mom asks from the chair next to me.

  I hadn't realized my knee was shaking. Hard core. I press my hand on top of it, but it does little in the way of suppressing my nerves. Again, I hadn't realized I was nervous, or anxious, but there you go.

  "Yeah, I'm fine," I say, lying through my teeth.

  My mom looks at me with eyes that say I-wonder-what-else-you-lie-to-me-about. In my defense, what kid doesn't lie to their parents about sex. I mean, who honestly goes up to their parents and says, hey guys, just wanted you to know I got an A on my midterm. And in related news, I am having sex now. Good talk. Yeah, I don't think so. And it's not like I really lied to them. I merely withheld the truth. Totally different.

  My dad hasn't really talked to me in six weeks. He talks, but it's usually only if I ask him a direct question, or if it is dire that he talks to me. I don't think he hates me, though I can't be sure, but I feel like he feels like he doesn't know me anymore. It's the same with my mom. Sometimes I catch her gazing at me with a look that can only be described as you're-my-daughter-and-I-love-you-but-you-have-crushed-my-heart-with-debilitating-disappointment. Yeah, it is great fun in my household.

  Besides my being the soul disappointment of my parents, my brother has moved to college and not spoken to me since he slammed the door when I said those putrid words. I miss him more than I ever could have imagined. I kne
w that I would miss him when he went to college, but I knew we would still talk on the phone. Now, Wren calls home when he knows I won't be there. And if he can't get around that, he just doesn't call home at all. Again, something my parents can hate me for.

  I have done a marvelous job of ruining my life. And possibly Greyson's life. And the life of the unborn baby percolating in my stomach. Oh boy.

  "Lux," a nurse says from the doorway to the exam rooms.

  My mom pats my knee and squeezes it before we stand up. I'm not sure if it is to reassure me, or to make sure I know that I am the reason we are here. Either way, it is uncomfortable.

  I follow the nurse back through the hallway until we reach one of those scales with the ruler to measure your height and weight. This step must be mandatory because I had to do the same thing when I came to get the pregnancy test. All I can think of when I stand on the scale is the line from A Knight's Tale that says, you have been weighed. You have been measured. And you have been found wanting. I certainly have been found wanting. Wanting a new life. A new body. A new school.

  The nurse writes down my measurements and tells us to follow her to a room labeled Exam room 3. In the room the nurse, whose nametag reads Shelby, takes a reading of my blood pressure and heart rate. It's all glamourous stuff. Except when I have to pee in a cup. That is pure humiliation. And then, it gets even more glamourous. The nurse hands me a gown the opens in the front and a sheet to cover myself and tells me to sit on the table covered in cloth like paper.

  My mom sits in a green plastic chair and turns her head as I undress. I suddenly feel self-conscious. Greyson said I was beautiful that night. But maybe that was just said in the moment, said to get me to drop my panties. It did make me feel good in the moment, but suddenly I'm not so sure. I've never been proud of my body, and now it houses a growing infant. A growing infant that will make my midsection grow. Significantly more than it already has.

  I sit on the cold, uncomfortable table and listen to the paper crinkle as I move around. Just about every thirty seconds, my mom looks at me, opens her mouth to speak, shuts it, then looks away. If the situation were different, I might find it comical.