Thinking back on it, I realize that a considerable amount of time has passed since my last period.
Just what I needed. A new worry. A new problem to solve.
I’ve been late before, especially when I’ve become super stressed. What I can’t take right now is waiting. Not knowing what the hell is going to happen to me.
Though pregnancy tests are available at the on-campus medical building, I figure it’d be best to go off-campus for this particularly personal need. After securing permission to go off-duty and off-campus, I walk some five blocks down to a busy commercial street.
I don’t have time to relish civilian life, free of soul-crushing worry. I hurry into a large drug store.
Purchasing a handful of pregnancy tests shouldn’t feel as shameful as it does. Surely the cashier can’t give two shits about the items they scan throughout the day. But seven boxes of pregnancy tests and two gallons of orange juice might be something worth mentioning to their coworkers during their lunch. This is stupid for me to even waste this much time thinking about. The opinions of a couple of teenaged cashiers are the last things that should be on my mind right now.
There’s a chance that I could be carrying Zach’s baby.
Back at the dorm, I lock myself inside the bathroom and start the time-consuming process. Twenty minutes later, the results are in.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Negative.
Positive.
Positive.
I must wonder. How likely is it that the strip that reads Negative on the cheapest pregnancy test the drugstore has to offer is the only right one?
Fuck.
Of course.
Of course I had to find out I’m pregnant days after I told Zach that we should keep our distance and take a break from each other. Fucking of course.
I’m at a loss.
Tears stream from my face as I sit helplessly on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom. Before I can even begin to think of how to deal with this, I have to let all of my feelings out. Not just from finding out I have a baby developing in me, but from everything.
Life at this academy has been an emotional rollercoaster from the beginning and I haven’t given myself any time to process my emotions. Not from the hardship of being away from Zach, not from the stress from nonstop rigid living, of having to perform every hour of every day for straight months, or being discovered by that blonde bitch Scarlett. Or even the breakup.
Being here, I feel as though I can only project a hard shell of myself. Weakness isn’t seen as an admirable trait here, nor should it be. We’re training to be officers that protect the city streets of the United States. We cannot be weak.
Yet here I sit, weeping over a toilet. Weeping over the idea of raising a child on my own, as if no woman has been in my shoes before. As if no woman has ever had it harder than me.
Shame spills from my chest. I am the very image of a weak woman.
I can’t tell Zach about this child. It would ruin his life and that’s not hyperbole. It would absolutely, without exaggeration, cripple everything he’s worked so hard to achieve. He’s living comfortably with this job, but the pay he’s currently receiving isn’t something he could raise a child with, have a real home and household with. He’d need a second job, or a better paying one. A type of job he isn’t at the moment qualified for, considering being a police officer is all he’s ever wanted to be. And all he trained and certified to be.
I’ll have to drop out and work on raising this child. The police academy would have to wait indefinitely. And maybe by the time I’m able to re-apply, I would no longer be in my prime. I’ll be out of shape, more so than ever. Oh God, I’m not ready for a child. I can barely handle a stable relationship, how could I possibly even attempt to raise a child on my own?
To say that I’m codependent on others is a shocking understatement, as much as I hate to admit it.
I’ve grown out of this helplessness the same way I grew out of training bras, that is, year by year. As my father started a new life with Francine, they slowly weaned off my teenage sheltering and helped me learn that I had to start doing things myself. But once Zach and I started dating, I fell right back into my old habits of depending on others. Zach told me when to get ready, when to exercise, when and what to eat, just as my father had before him.
But neither of them could prepare me for pregnancy.
Zach should know about this child-to-be. If there were any doubt that he was the father, I wouldn’t be saying so. But he’s the only man ever to have been inside me without protection, it’s obvious that he’s the only possible candidate. He has a right to know.
Even if he wants nothing to do with me or the budding offspring of our love, growing inside of me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kayla
“Ms. Thomas?”
I look up from my fidgeting hands to see the broad, towering and stern figure of the head of the disciplinary board, Mrs. Strauss.
“We’re ready for you now,” her voice is rich, rumbling and graveled in a way I’ve heard in other senior authority figures. It sounds like she’s had a lifetime of whipping chaotic humans and their behaviors into neat, predictable shape. I wish I had an ounce of her surety and command right now.
She holds open the door for me to the hearing chamber, lets me pass and quickly walks to her chair, which sits behind a raised heavy wooden desk that, eerily for me, resembles a judges’ bench.
My chair faces her, sitting behind a smaller and lower desk, like the accused in a court trial. Ms. Strauss’ seat is directly in front of mine. Next to her, facing me, sits four other members of the disciplinary board, each one more stony-faced than the last.
I greet them courteously but am met with unreadable, sterile responses.
“Ms. Thomas, we understand that you had an unsanctioned encounter with Mr. Clark earlier this month. Would you like to tell us your side of the story?” Mrs. Strauss asks, projecting her voice as if we were literally in court.
It took me two days to come to a conclusion on what I would be saying in front of this council. Zeroing in on what I’d be admitting to and what I’d be omitting from the story.
I want to be a police officer and in order to do that, I have to graduate.
But Zach is already a police officer. And telling the whole truth the way I’m expected to would prevent him from continuing to thrive in his position. Hell, he’d likely be blacklisted if the shame of inappropriate contact with a cadet is how his career in enforcing justice ends. And his position would only be made worse if anybody were to find out about our previous familial connection. And how we both disgraced my father.
In order to avoid further heartbreak and emotional confusion I’ve been trying to not focus so much on my love for Zach, to consider a larger picture. But that love beats in me louder and heavier the more I think about the possible danger to his professional life. I don’t want to ruin him. And I can’t live with him possibly hating me for ruining him.
I’m the one who squirmed my way into his professional life with little consideration of the consequences, consequences which were only heightened after starting to date Zach.
It was a mistake, my mistake. One I intend to right today.
Calmly, I make eye contact with each member of the board before speaking.
“On the night in question, I snuck out of my dorm at midnight to see Mr. Clark. I went to find him because I wanted someone to talk to about some emotional problems I’ve been having recently. My father died this past year and it’s something I’ve had a hard time dealing with. Having learned about Mr. Clark’s former partner, I figured I could go to him for help. As we talked, I… I crossed the line and tried to seduce Mr. Clark. But he rejected my advances and asked me to go back to my dorm.”
Keeping my face calm is sending stress to the outer reaches of my body. My palms are sweating so profusely that sneakily, I have to rub them al
ong my academy-mandated black trousers. I look up to see the board members whispering among each other, lips pursed and brows furrowed, looking possibly displeased with my version of the events that took place that night.
Or displeased at my shameless attraction to my very own step-brother. There’s no way they don’t know about my family. I now realize I hadn’t considered that dimension to this whole mess. But I can’t worry about it now.
“So, you attempted to seduce a faculty member, after Lights Out. Mr. Clark did not engage with you in any way?”
“No,” I tell them with honest tears forming. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me.” That much is definitely true. “He said it was grossly inappropriate and showed me the door.”
After some more looks of displeasure and animated whispering, Mrs. Strauss stands up, looking more official and terrifying than ever.
“Cadet Kayla Thomas.”
I stand at attention in response. I have to at least appear ready for anything. I hold my breath. “Yes ma’am?”
“You’re dismissed.”
Did I hear her right? Did she mean dismissed from the Academy entirely? Just these proceedings? My heart races almost as fast as my thoughts.
“The other members of the disciplinary board and I will have to deliberate further on the matter. We will call for you once we come to an agreement on your future here at the Academy. You may leave.”
More waiting now. More tortuous not-knowing.
They could just tell me right now whether or not I’m expelled. I wish they wouldn’t drag this out any longer. Waiting for a ruling is absolute agony. I don’t know if I can take this. Just kick me out and let Zach stay on board with his reputation unscathed by this minor kerfluffle. Think of me as the irresponsible, careless little girl the whole world has taken me for and leave Zach alone.
There are other ways to honor my dad. There must be. But if Zach’s livelihood is in danger, then anything that has to do with a dead man, honorable as he may have been, has to take a backseat to the real, living, breathing man of honor who has immediate problems at hand.
Plodding blankly on the way back to my dorm, I spot Zach in front of me, crossing a hallway intersecting mine. I try to look down and avert my gaze but his eyes immediately catch mine. He quickly swivels his head, sweeping the area for watchers and takes impatient strides towards me. But just as he reaches whispering distance from me, my morning sickness attacks with a vigor. I’m practically dizzy.
After I’ve become nauseous for the past few days, there’s not much food in my stomach for me to throw up. Regardless, I expel whatever is left lying dormant in my stomach, unable to aim it away from Zach. Some unfortunately gets on his shirt. I’m too overcome to do much about it at the moment and expect him to react with revulsion and surprise.
But instead, he wears a look of concern, supporting my arms with his stronger ones, leading me to the nearest unisex bathroom to help me finish.
“It’s alright, you don’t have to be here,” I offer weakly between dry heaves. “You shouldn’t be seen with me right now. What are you doing here anyway?”
“Strauss called me in. Looks like the investigation is closed and… Well. I mean, I hope that them calling me to show up in person means I’m cleared of any sexual misconduct charges. But whatever with all that, worry about yourself. You’re sick. Strauss can wait.”
His look of concern deepens the furrow of his brows. “I’m not going to leave you alone while you puke your guts out. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office once you’re done,” he suggests, pulling aside a strand of my hair that’s escaped its normally tight hair bun.
I open my mouth to answer him but suddenly heave again. After painfully emptying out my stomach, I turn back to Zach. “Honestly, I don’t need to go to the nurse’s office. The fruit cup at breakfast this morning had a funny taste to it. I’m sure I can deal with this. Go on and meet with Strauss, you don’t want to be late.”
Zach smiles at me. “You always were a sucker for a good fruit cup.” He looks down for a beat then back up to me. “I know you’re all tough now, but even cops need a visit to the doctor’s every once in a while. What if it’s a stomach virus?”
“Doubt it,” I answer quickly. Too quickly, when talking to a cop who knows you inside and out.
I regret answering him in such an aloof manner because Zach’s eyes narrow immediately.
“Why do you doubt it?” He lowers his voice, becoming very serious.
Zach waits for an answer, but I can’t bear to tell him the truth. He should know the truth, but an unshakeable fear runs through me. If he’s happy about having a baby with me, then he deserves a better setting than this to find out the happy news. If he’s not happy about it, I cannot handle another stressful confrontation today. I just can’t.
I don’t know if it’s my surging hormones or my newfound weakness but I am simply too scared to say what’s really happening.
“I saw Cadet Reyes puking in the women’s stall just before I started feeling bad. She was in line right in front of me for breakfast this morning. Honestly, it looks like this is just a case of bad cafeteria food. Just… Thank you,” I groan, as I stand up and get adjusted to the room settling back into normal gravity.
Now feeling a touch more steady, I continue, “Also, I wouldn’t worry about your job. At my hearing, I took the blame for everything. You should be cleared of any— ”
But I’m cut short as more stomach acids start making their way back through my esophagus. I choke what I can down and leave Zach in the bathroom, running towards my dorm.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Zach
Don’t thank me, damn it. Tell me what the hell’s going on with you. Tell me what happened with Strauss. What did you admit to or not admit to? Damn it, Kayla.
She runs away from me, leaving nothing but a growing list of questions and arguments I could start. Kayla looks like she’s in no shape to be anywhere outside of a warm bed. Her behavior is so strange, could something else be going on? What could be more serious than her status here at the Academy right now? Why does she keep pushing me away? It’s not like her to run away from me, when she knows how much I want her. How much I want us.
She gave me nothing to go on, really. Just silence and uncertainty.
I simply cannot believe she’s decided to quit her pursuit of a police career.
This is different than her pursuit of fame with ballet, or gymnastics, or any of the various instruments that went unused. She trained passionately to be where she is. And now she could be throwing it all away. For what?
Kayla wants to be a police officer more than any of the other, at times, shithead recruits I’ve dealt with since I became an instructor. She has heart, determination, smarts, everything one needs to become a great cop—all in spades. And she’s letting someone else choose her path. I should have fessed up to Maude when I had the chance. I was an idiot not to. I was just trying to cover my own ass. I never considered the consequences.
It’s an anomaly in my life. I’m normally very conscious, very protective of her. What the fuck was I thinking? Now it’s too late to change my account. It would get her in even more trouble. And likely be the end of both our careers in this entire state.
Maybe some podunk Nowheresville precinct in Idaho might need a couple of busted up has-beens. But I love this city. I know this city. I always wanted to police in Dad’s city.
There’s just no excuse for the many times I entered Kayla with complete disregard of what it could mean for us. For our career aspirations. For our family. I still haven’t heard a peep from Ma.
But enough of this whining. It’s not too late. I can fix this. I can fix us.
I’m going to make this right. For both of us.
I’m going to take care of Kayla no matter what the cost.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Zach
My march towards the office where I’d meet with Maude and her band of old farts is interrupted a second
time, but this time by the hellish demon who is responsible for all of this. Little Miss Scarlett Hill.
“Cadet Hill!” I shout her name, making her head jerk instantly in my direction.
Her eyes widen in fear at the sight of the man, that is, the police academy instructor she thought she fucked over beyond help. Clearly, she didn’t think she’d be running into me after conducting herself like a grade A snitch.
Scarlett tries to ignore me by talking to the people around her, but doesn’t realize the crowd starts to disperse rather quickly. And that refusing the command of any instructor is grounds for discipline.
“Maybe you didn’t hear me, Cadet Hill,” I menacingly growl as stand before her. “But I did call out to you. And we need to have a word. Now.”
Her head retreats into her torso like a scared little turtle, but shot right back out when I guide her out of the hallway and into an empty classroom. I close the door behind us.
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