by Laci Maskell
This is one of the many, many times I want to tell Jesse about Lux and the baby. Jesse and I have never had to confide in each other about anything this serious, but I feel like we could. Jesse forgave me when I took Amelia from him. I stayed by his side when all of our friends wanted to ditch him after his sister renounced her popular throne. We’ve been through thick and thin together. I’m sure we could make it through this together. But every time I open my mouth to say the words, I got Lux pregnant, I fall short. I choke. I lose faith in our friendship.
I desperately need to talk to someone about it. Them. Lux and the baby are a them.
Ugh. I am not a pussy. I am not a pussy. I am not a pussy.
“Nothing. There is nothing bothering me. I’ve just had a headache all day.”
Jesse presses his hand against the door and eyes me. He knows I’m lying. But as my best friend, he accepts it. He knows if I want to tell him, I will, in my own time.
Jesse’s phone chirps. He pulls it out, looks at it, frowns, then puts it back in his pocket without texting back. When I stop to ask him what is wrong, he raises his eyebrows at me then continues down the hallway.
The closer we get to the parking lot, and the girls, Jesse continues to sigh. At first, they are just heavy breaths. Then full blown, I-want-you-to-ask-me-what-is-wrong sighs. When we reach the school’s front door, I stop us both. I may be having problems, but that doesn’t mean no one else is.
“Okay, who texted you?”
Jesse jerks his head to the side as if he isn’t going to answer. Then he says, “Leah.”
When I raise a confused eyebrow at him he continues, “She’s been really pissy this week. You remember how everyone thought Lux had an abortion?” I nod. He continues, “And you remember how Tyler knocked Lux over last week?” I nod. He continues, “Well, I guess Tyler hurt her pretty bad, and the fall could have killed the baby.” I swallow hard around the lump in my throat. “Leah is out for blood. She’s so mad she barely talks to me. And I didn’t do anything.”
I don’t know what to say. Jesse and Leah have always been really close. Their relationship has made me long for a sibling for many years. Though most of the time I do love the attention of being an only child.
“She’s just mad. I’m sure she’ll get over it. Lux is her best friend.” I stop myself before I say anything incriminating. Like the fact that I too am pissed about the incident. Or the fact that I wanted to strangle Tyler.
“I hope so. I kind of miss her.”
I have no idea what it feels like to miss a sibling. There are times I am jealous of having someone always there. Whether they bug you or not, a sibling is always there. I’ve never had that. I’ve always wondered what it would be like. I guess I will never know.
I stare at Jesse but do not see him. My mind churns with what he has said and how I feel. I am so sick of feeling anything about Lux and the baby. They are not my problem.
Jesse shrugs, shakes his head, then punches me in the same arm as a few minutes ago. “Enough of the sappy crap for one day,” he says.
I smile and raise my head in agreement. Sounds good to me.
I push the front door open then hear footsteps behind me. I turn toward them to see Lux. No way. How can I not avoid her? Her head is down. Her bag is slung over one shoulder. It looks too heavy for her. I clench my jaw to keep myself from taking it from her.
When she is five steps away she pauses then looks up. She doesn’t say anything but she acts as if she is waiting for something. And that’s when it clicks. Jesse and I are standing in front of her exit. I push the door open all the way and hold it for her to pass. She does, without a word. I want to say hi. I want to ask her how her day was. If only to hear her speak. But Jesse stands next to me, and I’m not about to out myself.
I watch Lux walk away from us before I walk out of the door. She looks like any other person. Not a pregnant teenager. And yet she looks uncomfortable in her own skin. Seeing her, and the bulge of her belly, reminds me of how angry I felt all week. I can’t stand this anymore. I need to talk to her. I have to talk to her. If only for my own sanity.
“Did you hear she’s still pregnant?” Jesse asks.
My heart leaps in my chest. Sometimes I wonder if Jesse cares about Lux more than he lets on. Jesse is a great guy, and I would never fault him for it. I would love to have someone to talk to about her. But sometimes I wonder if he just talks about her because Leah is his sister.
“I guess,” I respond, not wanting to give my feelings away.
“Leah is so mad, at like, the entire school, for how they treat Lux. Who would even start a rumor like that? I have known her as long as Leah has been friends with her, and I know she would never have gotten an abortion.”
My throat clenches. Hearing that Jesse knows she would never do such a thing gives me hope. Hope for what, I’m not sure. But another emotion creeps in. It’s one I am shocked to feel. Jealously. I am jealous of my best friend because he knows Lux. He knows her better than I do, better than I may ever know her. Envy creeps in too. Jesse was Amelia’s first. Jesse is more well liked than I am. Jesse knows Lux like I don’t. He’s my best friend. I can’t feel this way. He doesn’t deserve for me to feel this way. And yet the jealousy and envy seep further into my heart.
“I thought we were done with the sappy crap,” I say, imitating the way Jesse said it.
“You’re right. Hey we’re going to the city to eat, you coming?” Jesse asks as we walk towards our friends.
Tyler, Liam, Haley, Elizabeth, and Amelia congregate around our cars. The girls are showered after cheerleading practice and I can smell their body spray from where we are. I close my eyes and breathe in deep, picturing Amelia beneath me. My eyes snap open when Amelia’s image turns into Lux’s. Jesse and I reach our friends. I grab Amelia and kiss her hard on the lips. She is my girlfriend. She is the only one I have to worry about.
“Mm. Hi, boyfriend,” Amelia says when I pull away.
“Hi,” I say, grabbing her ass.
“You coming,” Jesse asks again.
In the distance I see Lux walking home. I have got to get my shit straight. I know I should go to the city and eat with my friends. I know I should ignore Lux and get on with my life. And yet I can’t.
“I can’t,” I say. “I promised my parents I’d eat with them tonight. They say we need more family time. You know, since I won’t be home for much longer.”
“You pussy,” Tyler says, crossing his arms over his chest.
I clench my fists together to stop from punching him in the face. I really have no idea why I am friends with him, or how he joined our group. I may have to do a group audit if his stupid ass behavior continues. I think he’s still mad at me for yelling at him. I’ve done it before. But never when it was in defense of someone we saw as below us.
The varying aspects of my friends have made our group work for years now, but the farther I get from our group, the more I can’t stand some of them. Tyler’s assholery is getting on my nerves. Elizabeth is such a loud mouth she may get punched in it. Liam and Haley are so quiet it’s almost as if they aren’t even part of the group. I really wish they would stand up for themselves once in a while. Jesse is becoming too nice. And Amelia is a whole different story.
And if I am beginning to hate them, I have to hate myself. I am their king. I am their leader. I have formed all of them into who they are for years now. I’ve liked who they are for a long time now. I like manipulating them and molding them. And now they disgust me. Jesse was the only one I didn’t tamper with. I wonder who they will be when high school is over.
“Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” Amelia says.
“I always do,” I say, with a look Tyler’s way.
Amelia moves in front of me and throws her arms around me. She stands on her tiptoes and kisses me on the cheek then whispers in my ear, “When you get done with the obligatory parents’ dinner, and I get back from the city, you can come over tonight. I’ll buy new underwear.” She li
cks my ear as she says this, her hands moving to inappropriate places.
I may not always like her, but Amelia knows how to turn me on.
“Mmh,” I moan in her ear. “Sounds tempting.”
“Come on, Greyson. We haven’t had sex in like two weeks,” she says, her voice angry. “I miss you.”
It is true. We haven’t. I don’t need two pregnant girls on my hands. Even when Amelia and I have sex now I make sure she has taken her pill and I’m wearing at least three condoms. I was protected that night with Lux but the package says they are only ninety-eight-percent effective. To say I am a little gun shy is an understatement.
“I miss you too,” I tell her, not wholly meaning it.
She squeezes my junk making me shudder.
“Make sure they’re black. And lacy.”
Amelia pulls back and smiles darkly at me. I slap her ass and move her towards Jesse’s car. “Are you sure you can’t come?” she pouts.
I think for a long minute. I really don’t need to go see Lux. We could continue on like it is. I could live with myself. But then I could be lying to myself.
“I’m sure,” I say. “But you guys have fun.”
Jesse clasps my hand and pulls me in for a man hug, slapping my back. “Later, man.”
I jerk my head up in response then watch them pull out of the parking lot. I get in my car and do the same, headed for my house.
***
I pace my bedroom while my mom “cooks” supper. She has that speed dial on tap. One press of a button and dinner is served. She likes to act like she slaved over a hot stove by artfully placing the food on plates. It reminds me of the scene from Mr. Doubtfire. I don’t know why it bothers me, but I wish, just once, that I could go into the kitchen and see my mom cooking something. To have amazing smells waft up to my room and to know that my mom is providing for me. To know that she cares enough about me to prepare everything I eat herself. Just like having a sibling, I’ve always wondered what it would be like. I guess I’ll never know.
I’m pretty sure my carpet is going to have a permanent indent if I don’t stop my pacing soon. But it helps me think. Clears my head. And I need a clear head to figure out what I am going to say to Lux. I don’t want another yelling match. Which seems to be the only way we can communicate. I may deserve to be yelled at but Lux doesn’t deserve my anger trust upon her.
But figuring out what I want from her or what I want to talk to her about is proving to be extremely difficult. If I knew how I felt about her and the baby it would be a lot easier to know what to say to her. I don’t want a part in the baby’s life. I don’t want to know the baby. I can’t have a part in Lux’s life. Even if I wanted one. Obviously I want her to keep the baby, if my reaction to thinking she got rid of it is any indication. But I know I don’t want to be and can’t be a father to it. I could give Lux money for the baby if she would just take it. But I know she won’t. She’s far too stubborn for that.
I just. I don’t want her to hate me. And I know she does. She told me she hates me. I can see it in her eyes every time she looks at me. I deserve it. I know I do. I knew the condom snapped and I didn’t tell her. I’m the reason we are in this mess and I couldn’t own up to it. She has every right to hate me. And yet it eats at me every day. A piece of me is ripped away every time she touches her swollen belly and looks up at me. It’s like she’s saying you did this and I want you to pay for it. The stupid thing is, I know she’s not that malicious. She’s too tiny and cute to be that malicious. But that’s how I feel.
I throw myself on my bed and in the most melodramatic way I scream into my pillow. It’s stupid, but it makes me feel better.
“Supper’s ready,” my mom calls from down stairs.
I sigh deeply then walk apelike down the stairs, my arms hanging heavy at my sides.
My parents sit at our egregiously large table not saying a word. They are both dressed like they are going to attend some stupid function, though I’m sure they’re not. My parents aren’t the sit back and relax type of parents. I’ve never seen my dad sit in a lazy boy, drinking a beer, and watching football on a Sunday afternoon. I’ve never seen my mom covered in dirt and on her knees tending a garden in the back yard. They are more suited for New York then they have ever been for Nebraska. Who in Nebraska wears pearls to supper? Who wears a suit and tie to ask his son about his day? I’ll tell you who, my parents.
I feel so out of place in my own house. At my own dinner table, wearing jeans and a polo.
I sit down and start eating. If my parents aren’t speaking, I have nothing to say.
Three bites in my mom says, “How was your day, sweetheart?”
“It was fine,” I say, not needing to elude to the fact that it was, in fact, not fine.
But then again, maybe I should tell them that I knocked a girl up. That one of my friends almost killed the baby inside her. That instead of knowing that, I thought she had an abortion and yelled at her for it today. Maybe all of that may get my parents to show some iota of emotion. Maybe.
But instead of saying all that, I stick with it was fine.
“How was football practice?” my dad asks.
I swear they only know two questions to ask me and they just used them. Once I answer good to his question, dinnertime conversation will cease and it will again be dinnertime conversation one, Greyson zero.
“Good,” I answer.
My dad nods his head and returns his attention to his plate of food.
Alas.
The room is engulfed in silence. I am afraid to swallow too loudly. The sound of forks scraping plates is startling.
“I heard something interesting at book club today,” my mom says.
I’m so starved for attention from my parents I sit straighter up in my chair as to not miss a word she is about to say.
“Do you ladies actually read any books?” My dad asks. “Or do you sit around drinking wine and gossiping?”
I have stopped breathing.
No air moves in and out of my lungs. I may die but it will be a happy death.
My dad made a joke. It was a bad joke and one that it far too common. But it was a joke nonetheless.
And what does my mom do? She gives him the haha-nice-try look. I can’t believe what is happening at my own dinner table. Surely aliens have abducted my parents and replaced them with actual people with actual facial expressions and jokes. Or maybe I have died of lack of oxygen and am in my version of Heaven.
“Very funny, darling,” my mom says, taking a sip from her wine glass and returning it to the table top. “One of the ladies said there is a pregnant teen attending the high school.”
I have stopped breathing.
Crap.
All this time all I wanted was to interact with my parents like normal families. I got what I wished for. And it sucks.
“Surely they wouldn’t allow that,” my dad says.
“You would think they would homeschool the poor girl,” my mom agrees.
They are talking about Lux. The Lux that I got pregnant. The very thing that haunts my dreams is happening in my dining room.
“Greyson,” one of my parents says.
“Greyson?” The other.
“Greyson.” My father.
“Yeah?” I say, in a tone I hope is casual.
“Do you know this girl? Is it true?” My mom asks.
I could tell them. This could be the real moment of truth.
Or.
I could see how the conversation plays out and then decide whether or not to tell them.
Yeah. That sounds like a good plan.
“Yes, it’s true. No. I don’t know her.”
“That girl’s poor parents. The shame. They’ll be the talk of the town. They will never be able to live this down,” my mom says.
“Their lives, practically over, because their daughter was careless,” my dad says.
Nope. Not telling them.
I sink down and further down into my chair. I feel t
he need to throw up.
“May I be excused?” I ask.
“Of course, Greyson,” my dad says.
“Come give your mother a kiss,” my mom says. For the first time in my life.
I do as she asks.
When I lean down to let her kiss me on the cheek she says, “Your father and I are so proud to have a good boy like you.”
Her kiss is like poison on my cheek. It seeps into my every poor. It eats away at my skin. The affection I’ve craved my whole life turned toxic because of who I am and what I’ve done.
I walk to my room, the poison seeping into the rest of my body.
Dinnertime conversation one thousand.
Greyson zero.
Chapter Seven
Fourteen Weeks
Greyson
Last week, when I’d thought Lux had had an abortion, I had a very weak moment where I went into the front office and charmed my way into the records room. I’d planned on going to Lux’s house and confronting her about the baby. But with one bad look from Leah, my weak moment was over. At least now I have her address.
It took me fifteen minutes to find her address but all of fifteen seconds to Google map its location and directions. It isn’t a long way from Amelia’s or mine, it’s not like we live in Omaha or Lincoln, but it is certainly in a different part of town. It’s not the poor part of town, I’ve been there-Jesse, Liam, Tyler, and I tagged it three years ago. It’s not in the rich part either-I live there-but it looks like a perfect little suburbia you see on TV or in a magazine. Headline: Attica, Nebraska, the perfect place to raise your children.
About four blocks into Lux’s part of town I spot her house, or at least what I hope is her house. A two story house, painted dark green with black shutters and a front porch with a swing on it. I park a block away. I don’t want anyone seeing my car outside of her house and reporting back to Amelia that I am cheating on her.
I quickly walk the block to Lux’s house and up to her door, but once I’m there I can’t make myself knock. I can’t do it. All day long I told myself I was going to talk to Lux about the baby, but now that I am here I tell myself she doesn’t want to talk to me that I should leave.