by Laci Maskell
Then I tell myself to stop being a pussy and knock on the door. I hold my breath as a shadow appears behind the door. A woman who slightly resembles Lux opens the door.
“May I help you?” she asks.
I’m so nervous I can’t get the words out. I can’t get any words out.
I swallow hard and try to get something out.
“Is Lux home?”
“She is,” the lady says slowly. “May I ask who you are?”
“Greyson,” I whisper. “Fletcher.”
Recognition covers the lady’s face. This was such a stupid idea. I should just turn around and leave. I can’t believe I came here. What the hell was I thinking?
The lady, Lux’s mom, sucks in a deep breath, releases it, and says, “Come in.”
I walk into the house just far enough for Lux’s mom the close the door. She smiles at me, a smile I know costs her a lot, then says, “I’ll go get her.”
She disappears up the staircase. I feel awkward and uncomfortable and oh so guilty. If seeing her mom was bad, I don’t ever want to meet Lux’s dad. I look at the house around me. Kitchen to the left. Staircase straight in front. Living room to the right. There are pictures on the wall to my right. Family pictures. I can’t help but think that there is only one family picture in my house. It is large and posed and stiff. The pictures of Lux’s family are candid and happy and jealousy inducing. There is a picture of four people, Lux, her mom, her dad, and a guy I know from school. He must be Lux’s brother, though I didn’t know she had a brother. His name is Wren. He was pretty popular at school. He just went to college this year. I looked up to him. I was friends with him. I can’t believe I didn’t know that Lux is his sister. And as popular as Wren was, I am baffled that Lux is so, not.
After a few minutes of waiting, Lux walks down the stairs, her mom right behind her. My palms sweat so badly I want to wipe them on my jeans, but think otherwise.
Lux doesn’t look like she looks at school. I can’t put my finger on it, but there is something different about her. She has the same chocolate brown hair. It’s in a messy bun at the top of her head with curls escaping. The same purple glasses. She is wearing sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt I can’t see the baby bump under, but I don’t think it’s the clothes that make her appearance different. Amelia would never be caught dead looking the way Lux does. And I can’t help but smile looking at her. She is too adorable for words and I can’t feel that way about her. As I watch her, waiting for her to say something, I know what it is that makes her look different. She is at ease. She looks free almost. Sure she looks pissed that I am here, but she looks comfortable, like she never does at school. It’s like she is always holding her breath at school, waiting for someone to call her fat or run into her. I feel bad for her and happy for her at the same time. Bad that she has to feel that way at school, but glad that she has a place that she can feel safe. And again, I know that I can’t feel this way about her.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asks, her face pinching.
Seeing the pain in her eyes that my presence causes kills me. I knew she hated me and my friends, but I didn’t know the depth to which it runs. And now I’ve invaded her safe place. If I ever do one thing right with her, it will be a miracle.
“I want to talk to you,” I say, unconsciously moving toward her.
She jerks away, placing her hands over her belly, like I’m going to strike it. Her action stabs at my heart. I would never do anything to hurt her.
“What do you want to talk about? We talked in the closet. I thought we both got our points across.”
I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I want to talk without being at school. Without being caught by my friends. Without the pressure of the next bell ringing.”
“And why should I care?”
I lean in closer to her. This time she doesn’t flinch away from me. “The guilt is killing me.”
“Oh is it? You poor thing. I didn’t realize that the evidence of our night under my sweater made you feel bad.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“What do you want, Greyson?”
“I don’t know,” I say, stressing every word. I have no idea what I want.
All that time I spent pacing my bedroom did no good. I could imagine what I wanted to say to her. But being in front of her, I have no idea what to say. I have never been so weak in front of any one in my entire life. Not Amelia. Not Jesse. Not my parents. Just Lux.
“Could we go somewhere that’s not in hearing distance of your parents?”
“Fine,” Lux says. Without asking me to follow her she walks up the stairs.
I follow her up to a room I assume is her bedroom. It’s tiny compared to my bedroom. But it feels lived in more than mine. Like it is actually someone’s bedroom and not just a place to put your crap. There is room for a bed, dresser, bookshelf, and desk with a chair. There are pictures and movie posters all over the walls. There is a door to a small closet. Her notebooks and school books cover her purple bedspread.
I see her copy of Mr. Darcy’s Diary lying on her bed.
I pick up the book and say, “I’ve been reading this, I see what you were saying about him being a really good guy.”
“He’s a dick,” Lux says, taking the book from me and throwing it on the bed.
I place my hands over my face, slide them down, and let out a deep breath. I’m trying here and Lux isn’t giving me an inch.
“What happened to him being the perfect gentleman? What happened to him fixing his mistakes?”
“He’s a fictional character, Greyson. Leave it alone.”
“So you don’t believe people can fix their mistakes?” I ask her. I’m not sure when the conversation turned from Pride and Prejudice to our current situation but I’m not comfortable with it. If she does believe people can fix their mistakes, I am going to let her down so horribly. But if she doesn’t believe it, then I’ve already let her down.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she says, turning away from me.
“Lux?” I ask, then wait for her to turn towards me.
She looks at me with glistening eyes. I really hope she doesn’t cry. Amelia has never cried in front of me. I don’t know what I would do if Lux started crying.
“I’m really sorry,” I say. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you that night. And I’m sorry I got us in this mess. And I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you since. I’m just sorry for everything. I know you hate me. And I know I deserve it. And I know I don’t deserve to feel the way I do. But the guilt I feel is killing me. And I can’t tell anyone about it.”
Lux looks past me. Her jaw is clenched so hard I’m afraid she may break some teeth. Despite her best efforts not to cry, a single tear escapes from each of her eyes.
I am so afraid she is going to say that sorry isn’t good enough. That she hates me and that she will never forgive me.
“I’d like to say that I forgive you. That you don’t have to feel guilty because you weren’t alone that night. If I could say that, then this would all be over. You wouldn’t have to feel guilty and I wouldn’t have to worry about how you feel and we could just live our separate lives. But I can’t do that because that’s not how I feel,” Lux says. She begins to pace, then stops to speak to me directly. “That night was special to me. It should have been special. I had feelings for you. And I know you didn’t feel anything about me. And that’s fine. I mean, why would you? But for so long all I wanted was for you to notice me. And then you want to have sex with me. It was like I won the lottery. And for once I felt like I had something over Amelia. Like for once I was better than her. But instead you bolted. You left me naked on your bed wondering what I could have done wrong. You ruined that night for me. And aside from a whole new set of self-esteem issues, I got pregnant. So excuse me if I am a little upset with you. I am sorry I can’t forgive you. But right now, that is the way it is. I can’t look at you and not picture you ru
nning from that room.”
I am stunned. Never has anyone talked to me that way. Not just because they were mad at me, but talked to me like they wished I cared. That doesn’t even make sense in my own head, but it’s the way she spoke. I came here to feel better about the situation, to maybe lighten the guilt I feel. But instead, I feel worse. Much, much worse. I watch Lux. Watch how she moves. How she starts to pace then stops. How she breathes deeply like she is trying to calm herself. How the color drains from her face. I don’t know what to say to her. I didn’t know she felt like that. I didn’t know she had actual feelings for me. I thought she was just another unpopular girl who wanted in my pants. Girls have liked me before, but their feelings towards me were nothing other than what they could gain from me. I’m not even sure Amelia has feelings for me. She is my girlfriend, and not Jesse’s because I rule the roost and not him. It’s hard to fathom someone who would. But I could see it in Lux’s eyes when she said it. She had real feelings for me and I blew it by letting her down. No, months ago when I slept with Lux I wouldn’t have ditched my way of life to be with her. I wouldn’t have stooped so low as to be associated with her. I won’t even now. I hide in janitor’s closets to meet with her. I go to her house and park blocks away so I won’t be caught. I’m still not willing to ditch my life for her. I don’t think I ever will be. I like my life. I like where I’m headed. I don’t want some girl I knocked up in high school to kill my dreams. And yet here I am.
I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know how to make her feel better. I don’t know how to apologize for being myself. I’ve never had to apologize for who I am.
Lux continues to pace and stop, pace and stop. Her cheeks are white. She brings her hands to her mouth, pauses, then continues to pace and breathe deeply.
“Lux, I,” I begin but she cuts me off.
“I have to throw up,” she says, and runs for the door.
Seconds later I hear her throwing up. I hear her hurl and heave. I’m not sure if I should run in there and hold her hair or if I should stay in her room. It sounds disgusting and I’m sure seeing her puke would make me puke, but I feel like it’s one of those mandatory things. I did this to her. I got her pregnant and now she is puking because of it.
Lux continues to throw up. I get sick listening to her. I’m surprised her parents haven’t marched up the stairs to throw me out. Maybe they are like my parents and don’t care. I doubt that. Maybe Lux told her mom not to disturb us. More likely, though I’m surprised her mom would abide by that. More surprised actually that her dad would abide by that.
By the time I decide to go into the bathroom to see if she is okay, I hear the toilet flush and the sink turned on. I still feel like I should go see if she is okay, but then she walks back into her room.
“Are you okay?” I ask, though the question sounds stupid.
“Peachy,” Lux answers while sitting on her bed.
“Lux,” I begin though I have no clue what to say to her.
She holds up a hand to me as if to stop anything that could come out of my mouth. “That is the most embarrassing thing that could ever happen to me, so why don’t you just leave now.”
I almost listen to her. I almost walk out of her room. But I came here to talk to her about the baby and I’m not leaving until that happens. “No,” I say and cross my arms over my chest.
She sighs heavily and rests her head on her headboard. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply in and out several times. Again I wonder if she is trying to keep herself from crying. I’m not sure what I could have done this time to make her cry. No matter what I do I fail with this girl. That has never happened to me before. Nearly everything with Lux is new to me. Emotions I’ve never felt before. Reactions I’ve never gotten before. Actions I’ve never done before. I don’t like any of it. And yet I can’t help any of it from happening.
I watch Lux battle with her will not to cry. I am sad for her. I’m mad at myself.
“Are you okay?” I ask more earnestly this time.
Instead of speaking her answer, Lux nods her head, her eyes still closed. Lux moves her arms to rest her hands above her head. The action pulls her sweatshirt up revealing a sliver of her stomach. Her belly is bulged ever so slightly, but it is still noticeable.
I suck in a sharp breath. My heart slams against my rib cage. Seeing her pregnant belly snaps something inside me. It all suddenly becomes so much more real than it was a moment before. I try to breathe in but I can’t catch my breath. My head swims and I can’t feel myself lose my footing. My ass slams into the seat of the desk chair.
“Oh My God,” I say, my vision blurring. “Oh My God. It’s real. Oh My God.”
“Greyson,” Lux says. “Greyson?”
I can’t answer her. I can’t even look at her. I did this to her. I got her pregnant. I abandoned her.
The baby. It’s real. It’s really real. I am going to be a dad. “Oh My God.” I can’t be a dad. I’m eighteen years old. I hate my dad. What if I turn out like him? What is he hates me? Or she. I can’t handle a she. “Oh My God.”
“Greyson? Are you okay?”
Am I okay? I’m not sure. I can’t get a handle on this breathing concept. Is it in and out? I can’t seem to manage the in part. The out is the only thing working. I can’t say it’s working too well. There might be a truck sitting on my chest forcing the air out. Air whips around my face. I wince when I feel my head connect with a hard surface.
“Greyson?” Lux asks. Then, “Mom! Dad! I need your help.”
I hear thuds. I feel hands on me. I can’t focus. I hear voices but I can’t see faces. I still can’t breathe. I think I put my hands over my ears. My heart hammers so hard against my chest I think my ribs might shatter. Or I might just be having a heart attack.
“Greyson,” I hear a deeps voice close to my ear. “I need you to listen to me.”
I don’t want to listen. How can I listen? Lux is having a baby that I helped make. I can’t raise a baby. I can’t be a dad. I can’t do this. I can’t do any of this.
“Greyson,” the deep voice says.
I am shaken. My body moves of its own accord. But the voice follows. So maybe I’m being moved.
“Greyson,” the voice says again, my body thrashes again. “Look at me.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Lux asks. I move my head to the sound of her voice. I can’t open my eyes. Why can’t I open my eyes.
“What happened, Lux,” a second, female voice asks.
“Should I call an ambulance?” Lux asks.
“No,” the male voice asks. “I just need him to focus.”
“What happened,” the other female voice asks.
“I don’t know,” Lux says. I can practically hear her throwing her arms up. “He was just standing there and then it was like he couldn’t breathe and he fell on the chair. What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s having a panic attack. Does he have a history of these?” the deep voice asks.
“I don’t know,” Lux says. “I don’t know him that well,” she says this sheepishly.
I want to see what she looks like as she says it. One by one I pry my eyes open. My head swivels like I’m a bobble head. I still can’t breathe properly.
“Greyson, look at me,” the deep voice says.
Finally I listen, my heart still hammering away.
My vision begins to clear to the man I saw in Lux’s family pictures. A breath hitches in my throat causing me to cough.
“Greyson, are you with me?” he asks.
I nod.
“Good. I need you to count backwards from twenty taking a deep breath between each number. Can you do that?”
I nod.
“Twenty,” I say then try to take a deep breath. It doesn’t work so well. The breath gets caught somewhere in my chest. I cough. “Nineteen.” Deep breath. Choke. Cough. “Eighteen.” In. Out.
“Good,” Lux’s dad says nodding his head with my breaths.
“Seventeen.” In.
Out. “Sixteen.”
“Fifteen,” Lux says with me.
By the time I get down to ten I am breathing normally. I can see. My heart isn’t breaking my ribs. And I feel like a major idiot.
When I get to one, Lux is sitting next to me her leg flush with mine, her hand holding mine. My hand tingles where it touches hers. I almost stop breathing again because she is holding my hand. It’s soft and tiny and fits right into mine, in the worst possible way.
“Are you alright?” Lux’s dad asks me, kneeling in front of me.
I nod, not knowing what to say and not wanting to say anything. If I open my mouth, there is a chance I could resort to the typical Greyson Fletcher attitude and say something I could regret. As I sit on Lux’s bed, her holding my hand, her parents staring at me, my fight or flight response is struggling. My family’s response would be fight. Move past my embarrassment and get back to the reason I came. My heart and the look on Lux’s face is telling me to flee.
If Lux’s dad is right, I just had a panic attack. Never before in my life have I had a panic attack. I will not be telling any of my friends about it or my family. My friends will make fun of me. Jesse will look at me differently. He will try to understand. He will try to help me through it. But a panic attack is too out of my personality and our set of problems to deal with. Amelia might dump me. She will look at me differently too. She will no longer see me as the man in her life who can take care of her every need. Tyler will see it as a chance to question my authority and leadership. Elizabeth will make some joke about it, spread it around the school. And Liam and Haley will brush it off like it is no big deal, but lean more towards the strongest feelings in the group. I could play it off like it was nothing. Like it is my way of trying to get something I want by making people feel bad for me, but someone is bound to see right through it.
My parents will ask what brought it on, then chastise me for being so weak. My family does not tolerate weakness. If you are weak, there is something wrong with you and you do not belong in the family. And as much as I don’t want to. As much as I fight it. I care how my parents see me. I care how they feel about me. I will not be a disappointment in their eyes.