Miles From Kara

by Melissa West

  “Listen, I know you’re avoiding me,” she said, her hands out as though she knew I wanted to run and planned to stop me. “Can you just please talk to me? Please.” Her bottom lip shook and she reached her hand out to pat her stomach, rubbing the hand gently back and forth over the basketball-shaped mound, like the baby could somehow feel her hand. Come on. Ridiculous. She caught me looking at her stomach and smiled. “It’s a girl. I mean, she’s a girl. I keep calling her an it for some reason. I guess because it still doesn’t feel real. She doesn’t feel real. You know? Like, how is this my life? But then somehow I love her already. Isn’t that crazy?” She stopped to look at me, waiting for confirmation that she was indeed crazy, but all I could think about was the way her voice had warmed when she said she loved her baby, and whether I would have felt that same love for mine. I felt tears burn my eyes and quickly blinked them away before I made the girl question just who was the crazy person in the room.

  “Sit down,” I said, motioning to the chair. “You look like you could pop any second. It can’t be good for you to stand there like that.”

  She eased into a chair, bending back and then slowly lowering herself down, like she wasn’t quite sure how to sit in a chair anymore. She adjusted from her right side to her left, then sighed heavily and pushed her bangs out of her face. “My hips are killing me. They say it’s round ligament pain, but it feels like my insides are tired of holding her in and are ready to burst. Ugh, it’s horrible.”

  I fiddled with the box of tissues, bringing out two and folding them into a neat stack. “How far along are you?” I asked, though I didn’t really want to know. I wanted to ask her to leave, to find someone else to talk to, but how could I turn her away when she’d clearly made the effort to come talk to me in particular? I couldn’t.

  “Six months,” she said, “but Addison’s big. She could come early.”

  “Addison? Is that what you’re naming her?”

  “Addison Jane, after my mom.”

  “That’s a nice name,” I said, smiling. “I bet your mom’s thrilled.”

  Her expression turned so sad I instantly reached for my pile of tissues, which were now five high, and handed one over to her. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to . . .” What? I wasn’t sure what I’d said that was so wrong.

  The girl, whose name I still hadn’t caught, dabbed at her eyes and then clutched the tissue in her right hand, her left on her belly. “My mom died right before I became pregnant. I was angry and sad, so I started drinking and partying, and one day I decided I didn’t care anymore. I lost my virginity to a guy I barely knew, and now I have this.” She patted her stomach. “Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”

  My heart clenched, making it hard for me to breathe, to speak. I knew there were specific things I was supposed to say, things to comfort the girl, but none of those things came to mind. I began to recount Tori’s training—get them talking, be supportive, feel out the person’s mental stability, take notes for their file—but this was so much more than the two sessions I’d sat in on with Carla, the lead counselor. Every fear I had bubbled to the surface, swallowing up the rest of my thoughts. All I could think about was how right the teen was. What she’d told me did sound like the worst thing ever.

  But then I took a second to collect my thoughts and I realized that it wasn’t. I might have heard a worse story from Olivia. I thought of this girl in front of me, alone and pregnant, and then Olivia, who had lost all her friends in a fire, and couldn’t stop wondering which was worse. Maybe there wasn’t a worse; maybe they were all just shades of bad. But what made me feel like the most wretched person on the planet was that both of those situations buried what I’d been through, yet I still ruminated on my abortion. Like I pretended I was among them, when, really, I was lucky. The problem was, I didn’t feel lucky. I felt like I lived in a world of unlucky, where rainbows were gray things that led to buckets of coal instead of gold.

  I drew a breath to clear my thoughts and focused on the girl. “Let’s start from the beginning. What’s your name?”

  “Maggie. Maggie Jean Cope.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Maggie. I’m Kara.”

  “Do you go to the College of Charleston?”

  “I do,” I said, nodding.

  Her eyes filled with tears again as she absently ran a hand over her stomach. “That’s where I wanted to go. My dad went there. He always talked like it was the best school.”

  “It is. And you should totally go. You can still pursue your dreams. Having a baby doesn’t have to change anything.” I knew they were empty words the moment they left my lips, but I couldn’t tell her what I really thought. Because I knew exactly what she felt. And the moment I had looked down at that pregnancy test, I knew that having a baby would change everything. There’d be no having a normal life again. All I’d become was a mom, the last thing I wanted to be at sixteen, or even now. I tried to smile a bit, but it came out more like a grimace.

  Maggie’s eyes fell to her stomach. “Thanks, but we both know that isn’t true. My life’s over now. It belongs to her.”

  The sadness in her voice made me want to reach across the desk, to take her hand, to reassure her that everything would be fine, but I couldn’t seem to lift my arm to be as supportive as I should. All I could manage was a smile. “I’m sure your dad would still like you to pursue your dreams.”

  She laughed sarcastically. “I doubt that. He kicked me out the moment he found out I planned to keep the baby. Said he wouldn’t help me raise a bastard child. That I should have an abortion. But I just . . . couldn’t. I couldn’t kill this little baby. It isn’t her fault I messed up.”

  My hands shook in my lap, and I tried to regain my composure and slow down my heart rate, but it was no use. All I could hear were the words kill and baby and suddenly I needed out of the room. Fast. My throat closed up as memories shot through me. Just breathe, just breathe. I clenched my eyes tight, panic rippling through me, as I ordered myself over and over to get it under control, to be the adult in the room. Breathe, Kara, breathe.

  Oh, God, what did I do?

  I bolted out the door and down the hall, the words swirling again and again through my mind. Kill. Baby. A cold sweat burst across my forehead and down my spine. I had just enough time to lock the bathroom door before I wretched out the full contents of my lunch. I wiped my face with a tissue and kneeled down, sure that I was going to vomit again, but instead I closed my eyes and burst into tears.

  I killed a baby.

  No wonder my parents could barely look at me. There was no wrong worse that what I had done. I thought of my Southern Baptist upbringing, the countless sermons I’d listened to about being good, about being righteous . . . about sin. I went to my classes, went to parties, drank, and all the while I had taken the life of a little baby.

  I swallowed hard, fighting for control that wouldn’t come, so instead I sat down on the floor of the bathroom and cried for the child I would never know.

  Chapter Seven

  I banged on Ethan’s apartment door, unsure when I had decided to make the four-hour drive over there, but knowing he was the only one who understood what I’d been through. What I still went through daily. Thank God Maggie decided to force her story on me on a Friday, otherwise I’d be fucked for the entire week.

  I knocked on the door again, wishing I’d thought to call him on my way. I managed to send him a single text that I was coming over but I hadn’t heard back, and though that wasn’t entirely unusual, I couldn’t help the pang of anger that Ethan wasn’t there for me when I needed him. Tears collected in my eyes. Fantastic. I’d driven four hours and he wasn’t even home. I started to turn away when the door swung open. Without thinking, I rushed forward, flinging my arms around his neck.

  “Thank God you’re here.”

  “Kara?”

  I froze as the voice—the very Australia
n voice—registered in my mind. It wasn’t Ethan at the door. It was Colt. And I still had my arms very much wrapped around him. I sucked in a breath and stepped away, my hands flying to my mouth.

  “Oh! I’m sorry. I thought you were Ethan.”

  He cocked his head and crossed his arms as though my words had offended him. He was wearing loose gym shorts and a fitted white T-shirt that showed off his golden tan skin. “Are you all right?” he asked, taking a step toward me.

  I wanted to back away, but I couldn’t bring myself to take the step. I felt so raw and exposed, all the usual composure I wore like my favorite accessory now tossed aside. It was just me. Kara, the mess.

  “I . . . I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

  “Here, come inside,” he said, stepping back for me to go in before him. I glanced through the doorway.

  “Is Ethan here?”

  “No, he went out of town for the night. Didn’t he tell you?” He hesitated and I got the impression he wanted to say more but was restraining himself. Ethan and Colt were roommates, but sometimes I wondered whether they were actually friends.

  My eyes dropped to the concrete walkway where I stood. “Right . . . I guess I forgot.” I had no idea that Ethan was going out of town, and now that I thought about it, I hadn’t talked to him in two or three days. Sure, we had texted, but that wasn’t the same thing as hearing a person’s voice. And when you were dating someone, you should want to hear that person’s voice. Right?

  Colt seemed to sense my unease, so he reached out and guided me toward the door. “Come inside.”

  I eyed his hair, how it curled on the ends, reckless and wild. I wondered how he could look so rough and scary on the outside, but at the same time be so kind on the inside. I thought of all the simple texts that had been sent between us, all the winky faces and sarcasm and LOLs in class. It felt like I barely knew him, yet every part of me ached to be near him. Like craving a warm blanket in the cold. Just thinking his name made me feel better, lighter.

  “I’m not sure I should,” I said, hoping he knew what I meant without giving too much of myself away.

  Colt ran a hand through his hair and released a long breath. “I can’t send you away. It’ll be fine. Stay.”

  Stay. The word sounded like it held a hundred pounds worth of meaning that neither of us wanted to address in that moment. He wasn’t just asking me to stay. He was asking me to take a leap, one that I wasn’t prepared to take.

  But it was nearly ten o’clock. I couldn’t drive back to Charleston now, and I knew no one else at Georgia.

  The next second, a door down the hall from Colt and Ethan’s burst open and a pair of girls dressed in party wear—all skimpy dresses and heels too high to walk in—clumsily emerged, one of them fidgeting to lock their door.

  Colt eyed them and they returned a pair of flirtatious smiles. “Colt,” they purred together. “We’re going to a party down the street. Want to go?”

  I could barely understand them through the slurring.

  “Nah, I’m good. But is someone else driving you? You shouldn’t drive.”

  My heart turned to mush at the care in his words. Most guys wouldn’t care whether a pair of drunk girls made it safely home or not, but then again, Colt was nothing like most guys.

  The girls giggled like he’d said the funniest thing in the world. A part of me fought the urge to roll my eyes, but another part was concerned. They were clearly drunk. They shouldn’t even be going out like that.

  “Yeah, we have a pledge picking us up.” They stared at Colt like he was a juicy piece of meat they wanted to sink their teeth into, and I found myself stepping in front of him and shooting them a look that said he was already marked as Kara territory. Then I immediately felt sick to my stomach for even caring. He was Ethan’s roommate, for God’s sake! Fuck, Kara. Fuck!

  The girls started down the steps, and I spun around to find Colt standing closer to me, his expression hooded. “You’re confusing, you know?”

  “Everything about this is confusing.”

  He nodded and stepped back, so I could go into his apartment.

  As soon as the door closed behind me, I wanted to leave. It felt weird standing in Ethan’s apartment without him there. Add in that I was with a guy I had not-so-honorable thoughts about and the awkwardness skyrocketed to straight agony.

  I knew where the leather sofa was comfiest. I knew the refrigerator squeaked when you opened it too slowly. I knew the apartment nearly as well as my own, yet suddenly I was seeing it in a new light. The guitar case sitting by the sliding glass door. I assumed it was Colt’s, but I wasn’t entirely sure. It felt like I only knew a part of Ethan, not all of him.

  I walked over and sat down on the sofa. “Where did he go?” I asked, my voice small. We both knew I didn’t know he’d gone.

  “Some cabin in the mountains with his frat brothers.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, as he slipped into the kitchen and brought back two cans of beer. “Want one?”

  “Thanks . . .”

  He popped one open and passed it to me. “You don’t seem overly bothered that Ethan didn’t tell you he was going out tonight.”

  I thought about it for a moment. “I’m more upset because I’m supposed to be rather than actually caring. Does that make sense?”

  Colt stared at me, clearly biting his tongue to keep from saying what he really thought.

  “You can give me your opinion. We’re friends.”

  “Are we?” he said, his accent making the simple words sound way sexier than they should.

  I cleared my throat and forced myself to continue looking at him. “Of course.”

  “Then I think you’re insane for staying with the bloke. Roommate or not, he treats you like shit. You shouldn’t take that. No girl should.”

  I knew he was getting upset. His Aussie slang tended to slip out most when his emotions were high. I straightened as I realized that I’d been paying closer attention to him than I intended. Much closer attention. I finished my beer and set the empty can on their end table.

  “Want another?”

  I opened my mouth to say no, that I was already buzzed enough to hit Olivia’s drinking scale, but I didn’t want to think so much right now. Whatever was happening with Ethan and me wasn’t healthy. He left without telling me. I texted his roommate behind his back. None of it was healthy. Yet . . . I didn’t know how to end things with him. He knew all my secrets, all my flaws, and he loved me anyway. What if no one else ever loved me despite those ugly parts of me?

  Colt pushed off the sofa and started for the kitchen, tossing his can in the trash as he went. “I’m bringing you another.”

  “Thanks,” I said as he handed me a fresh beer. “I just . . . Even when you know you should, it’s hard to end things when the person you’re ending things with has been a part of your life for so long. Ethan’s seen a lot. He’s been with me through so much. It’s just . . . turning my back on him now feels like I’d be saying that none of that mattered. Like it meant nothing when he was there for me, ya know? I don’t want to be that girl.”

  Colt took a long pull from his beer and then rested it on his knee, his long fingers gently wrapped around the silver can. I found myself transfixed by them, how smooth they looked. I wondered if they would feel that smooth against my skin or if—

  “Kara?”

  My gaze jerked over to him. “Uh, sorry, what did you say?”

  “I asked if you love him.”

  I pulled back. “Of course.”

  “But, are you in love with him?”

  I glanced away, unable to look at him as he watched for my reaction. Somehow it felt like Colt could see into my soul. Like lying could never be a possibility with him. “Can we talk about something else? I just . . . I can’t talk about him with you.”

&
nbsp; Colt nodded slowly, understanding what I was saying without making me say the words out loud. I couldn’t say them out loud, because then suddenly my feelings would become real and alive and I would be forced to deal with them. He leaned back against the armrest of the sofa and faced me. “My dad cheated on my mum. It was years ago, when I was just eight, but somehow I’ve never forgiven him. Now that he’s the one who’s alive, even though she’s the better person, I find it impossible to be around him. I’ve never hated anyone in my life more than I hate him.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, though I knew it wasn’t even close to enough. Simple words didn’t erase the pain of losing someone, and saying them felt so very shallow, but I had to say something. Sometimes words were all we had. “Life’s so shitty sometimes, isn’t it?”

  “The shittiest.”

  We fell into silence for a moment, sadness swirling all around us, and then he said, “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Sorry, what?”

  “Confess something. Something you don’t like to talk about. Something only a few people know.”

  My eyes locked on his, fear ripping through me. I couldn’t confess about the abortion, not now when Colt had been so kind to me, when he thought I was worthy of someone better than Ethan. If he knew . . . he’d know that I didn’t deserve anything at all. Goose bumps rose across my skin as he watched me, and again, I felt the sensation that he already knew my secrets. I cocked my head, glancing from eye to eye as he watched me, and then I straightened, realization and anger coming alive inside me.

  Ethan.

  “You know, don’t you?”

  “I only know what you’ve told me, Kara, which isn’t much,” he said, but I saw the flash in his eyes. The quick switch, like he was intentionally trying to control his reaction. My stomach dropped.