Snowbound

by CJ Martín

  “Hello? Can you hear me?”

  Muffled sobs.

  What the fuck is going on? “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?

  “I think I’m in trouble.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  Two hours later we’re both seated on the edge of the tub in my bathroom. I went directly to Erika’s apartment upon arriving in Seven Pines. I found her a blubbering mess on her sofa and I was barely able to make out any of her words. All I understood, all my mind focused on was one word. Pregnant.

  I immediately went into panic mode. I got her off the couch, washed and dressed so that we could head to the pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. We bought several just to be sure, and since the pharmacy was much closer to my apartment, I brought her back here.

  “I can’t look. You do it.” She shields her eyes with her hands.

  I pat her back. “It says we have to wait another minute.”

  “It’s gonna be positive. I know it.” She sounds so forlorn.

  “It’s going to be okay, no matter what happens.” I do my best to comfort her.

  She snorts. “Easy for you to say.”

  I let her bitchy comment slide, because obviously. She’s freaked out and I don’t blame her. It is easy for me to offer advice because I’m not the one pregnant. If it were me, I’d be just as fucked up as she is. If not worse.

  We both jump as the timer on my cell phone rings. I squeeze her hand.

  “Please.” Her eyes plead with me. “Please, you look.”

  I reach for the tiny white stick on the counter. Strange how such a small thing, so innocent in its box, can have such a profound effect on so many lives. The small plus sign grabs my attention like a beacon in the night. Pregnant.

  “It’s positive.” My voice is barely a whisper.

  She breaks down, loud gut wrenching sobs. She wraps her arms around herself in what must be an attempt to control the shaking.

  I have no idea what the fuck to do. So I say what I think is comforting. What I would want to hear if I were in this position. “Erika.” I rub my hand over her back. “It’s going to be okay. You’re young, but not that young. Plenty of twenty-three year olds have babies.”

  No response, just more sobs.

  “And you have a job. A great job. Your own place. You can do this.” I have no idea what else to say. I mean, we’re friends, but not friends. Hesitating, I wonder if I should mention other options. “And if you decide you can’t, there are alternatives…”

  Her eyes snap up. “No.” She shakes her head. “I’m having this baby.”

  I smile. “You don’t have to decide now.”

  “I’m having this baby. I always thought that when I had kids, if I had kids, that I would give them the family I never had.” She has a faraway look in her eyes. “That is off the table.”

  By that I’m not sure if she is referring to abortion or adoption. Maybe both.

  I nod in agreement even as I search for something more comforting to say.

  “I just… it’s not something that I want to consider.” Her eyes focus on the tiny plus sign.

  “Let’s not worry about that now. You should rest. Stay here for the night. I can take you in to work tomorrow.”

  She doesn’t seem to register my words. “Aren’t you going to ask who the father is?”

  “It’s not my place to ask.” Although I am curious.

  “It’s JJ’s.”

  I can’t bite back my gasp. “What?”

  “Surprised?” She turns her head to the left to where I’m seated beside her on the bathtub.

  Yes. But my lips don’t move.

  “It happened the night”—she sniffles—“the night you passed out in my spare bedroom.”

  “Oh.” It’s all I can manage.

  She shakes her head ruefully. “How can I be so fucking stupid? To not use a condom? I know better.” She shakes her head again. “I just didn’t think it could… it was one time. One time.” She throws her hands up in defeat.

  My own stomach turns. One time? I had unprotected sex five times. Five times. I swallow the bile rising in my throat. My eyes close and I shake my head as though to clear it. I’m on birth control. Birth control is over ninety-nine percent effective when taken correctly. And Anders and I are in a relationship. Totally different situation.

  Slow breaths. Calm down. You need to be there for Erika right now.

  “Come on,” I say. “Let’s get you settled. You need rest.”

  “Okay.” She stands, then pauses. “Do you think I should take another test just to be sure? There’s a chance that it could be wrong.” Her voice rises at the end, hopeful.

  “Okay.” I smile. “Take another one just to be sure.”

  Three tests and a lot of crying later, Erika is sleeping on the couch. She agreed to stay with me since Anders won’t be home for a few more nights. Grateful for her easy agreement, my belly unknots a little. She shouldn’t be alone right now.

  From what I’ve surmised Erika isn’t close to mother, and her father left before she was born. I don’t think she’s told anyone else about the pregnancy, but I’m not sure. Hopefully we’ll be able to talk more once she’s rested and has had some time to process the news.

  I can’t sleep, so I research anything and everything regarding pregnancy. I read about what books to buy (I’ve already ordered them from Amazon), what types of food to eat (I’ve made a list), and who are the best doctors in the greater Seven Pines Area (I’ve written down several names and phone numbers). I can’t help it. I’m a planner.

  By the time morning rolls around I’ve gotten only one hour of sleep, two at most, but for once I don’t mind. It’s my duty to be there for Erika during her time of need. After all, she’s my closest girlfriend here and she’s listened to countless hours of my talking about Anders.

  “Hey.” I nudge her shoulder. “We need to be at work in forty-five minutes.”

  “Hey,” she says, her eyes bright at first. But I watch as the cloud of reality descends upon her, dimming the brightness.

  “Do you want me to tell Margie that you won’t be in? I can say you’re feeling under the weather.” It is the truth.

  “No, I need to keep busy. The more I think… I’ll drive myself crazy.”

  “Okay.” I walk toward the kitchen. “Towels are in the hall closet if you want to shower. And we have toast or cereal for breakfast.”

  “Elena?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You won’t say anything to anyone, right?”

  I turn back to her. “Of course not.”

  Her voice is quieter. “Even Anders?”

  My response is not as quick this time. In fact, I don’t get a chance to respond before she says, “Not forever. It’s just that I want to talk to JJ first. And I still haven’t figured that out yet.”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks,” she says, tears forming in her eyes. “For everything.”

  I offer her a warm smile. “What are friends for?”

  After work Erika and I head back to my apartment, or rather Anders’s apartment. Semantics. She was relieved when I invited her back for dinner with an offer to spend the night again. The couch is not the most comfortable, I know from experience, but I could tell she didn’t want to be alone.

  Somehow I resist the urge to barrage her with questions, although I am dying to know everything. I know, or rather hope, she will tell me when she is ready. I give her the folder of information that I arranged last night but she doesn’t want to look at it yet.

  “It will make it real. Ya know?” Her voice is so tiny, unlike her normal tone.

  “Yeah.” I smile, but I can’t say what I’m really thinking. It is real.

  I don’t press her or offer advice when she confides about her indecisiveness in regard to telling JJ. She is going to tell him, at least that’s what she says, but she wants to wait to get her head on straight before she drops a bomb on his life. They aren’t dating. For all I k
now it was a one night stand, though I don’t ask.

  As I lie in bed I applaud myself for appearing outwardly calm when inside I am freaking out just as much as Erika. Up until recently I was a virgin, and though my friends were sexually active, none—as far as I know—had any pregnancy scares.

  All of a sudden I feel very grown up. It scares the shit out of me that I jumped head first into my first sexual relationship and decided to forgo protection in the heat of the moment. What was I thinking? Anders was right there with me. But still, doesn’t the burden of responsibility fall on the woman?

  And what did I do? Let him come inside me. Not only that, I enjoyed it. An image of him, eyes open, mouth twisted in pleasure as he grunts his release and shudders inside of me replays in my mind. So not helping.

  As my eyes drift close I place myself in Erika’s situation. What would Anders do if I inexplicably—well maybe not inexplicably, we are having lots of sex—became pregnant. How would I tell him? Would my decision, thoughts, fears match his? I expel my breath, thanking God that it’s not me who will be facing these difficult conversations. My heart pinches as an enormous wave of compassion sweeps over me. Erika has her work cut out for her.

  Something is off with Gigs. I re-read her text message again.

  Gigs: Work’s busy. Talk soon.

  It’s not the words exactly. It’s the tone. Short. Clipped.

  My fingers tap a steady beat on the table. Maybe work really is busy. No. Maybe she’s having a bad day. It’s more than that. Maybe it’s the fact that I told her I loved her and then chickened out when she asked me about it. Could she have translated the phrase? Don’t be ridiculous. Or maybe I’m just losing my mind. Regardless, I’m in a sour mood. I can’t shake the feeling. And I don’t fucking like it.

  “Dude.” JJ’s voice pierces the quiet. “Stop.”

  “What?” I frown as I lean back in my chair only to hunch forward again. I’m restless.

  “The tapping. It’s fucking annoying.” He turns his head to gaze at the door.

  “Sorry.”

  Something must catch in my voice, because JJ whips his attention back to me. His eyebrows knit together. “Whatever.”

  I drop my head into my hands. I need to focus. Coach is meeting with us to discuss our rankings. If I’m being honest, I didn’t do as well in exhibitions as I could’ve. We had placement drills the day of my birthday, but I couldn’t wait to be done. To get back to Gigs. I only had a few more hours left with her.

  Rushing, I made a rookie mistake on the quarter pipe and lost my balance. Fucking Gigs. But I couldn’t be angry. It was worth it. She is worth it.

  My mental focus has been shit and hasn’t improved since my parents arrived. My mother has been driving me fucking nuts. She hasn’t stopped lecturing me about Gigs: How well do you know her? She hasn’t paid for anything? Are you being safe? Imagine, twenty-four years old and getting lectured about safe sex. From my mother.

  When my mom’s not lecturing me about Gigs, my father takes over, reprimanding me about my behavior regarding the hearing. He hasn’t come right out and said it, but he thinks I’m guilty. He thinks the drugs were mine. I don’t waste my time arguing with him. That won’t help matters; all my time and energy needs to be dedicated to finding a solution.

  “You okay?” JJ’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

  I lift one shoulder as though it’s heavy. “Yeah.”

  “What’s with you, man? You look like someone told you your dog died.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine.” He glances at the door and back to me. “You worried about the hearing?”

  “Not really.” I am worried. I’ve been asking around, waiting on Valoo to slip up, and so far nothing. Time is ticking.

  “Take the deal, man.”

  I snort. “Not an option.”

  “Then, tell Coach what you know. It’s his word against yours.”

  “Fuck no. I’m not a narc. Besides I want to see that motherfucker’s face when I compete and win against him.”

  JJ shakes his head in disapproval, but lets it drop. After another minute he asks, “How are things going with Elena?”

  Just hearing her name causes me to smile. “I miss her.”

  JJ shakes his head. “So what, you like love her and shit?”

  I chuckle at his bewildered expression. “Yeah, man. I love her and shit.”

  Did I just say that out loud?

  Whistling through his teeth JJ stands as the door opens and Coach gestures for him to enter. “Few more days.”

  “Yeah.” I agree. Three days, twelve hours, forty-four minutes. Not that I’m counting or anything. “Good luck.” I yell at his retreating back.

  “Don’t need luck, Vik. I fucking nailed that Crippler.”

  I nod, remembering JJ’s perfect form when his body twisted down the inside front wall of the half-pipe, spinning five hundred and forty degrees defying gravity. “You’re right. No luck needed.”

  Snow crunches the ground as JJ’s tires pull away from my apartment. I wave over my shoulder and walk around back to where my SUV is parked. My eyes sweep over my car. Looks good. No nicks or scratches. Not that I’d have cared. Well, not that much.

  Inside the apartment, the loud thud as my bag drops to the floor echoes. It’s quiet. Too quiet. Gigs isn’t home yet. I glance at my cell phone. Seven thirty-eight. She should be home by now. My finger swipes the message icon on the home screen to double check that I didn’t miss a message from her. Nothing. I type a quick message to her: I’m home. Where are you? Then I head for a shower.

  Feeling refreshed, I step out of the shower and towel off before slipping into boxers and sweatpants. I grab my razor out of the medicine cabinet. The blade is dull—did Gigs use it again?—so I reach into the cabinet for new one. I shake the box and pop the cartridge into the handle. I toss the empty box, along with the dull blade, into the trash, but miss. Bending down to pick up the discarded cardboard, my eyes zero in on the contents of the trash. I blink several times, confused—this has to be some sick joke—but when I open my eyes the offending item is still there.

  I stand up so quickly that I crack the back of my head on the sink. “Fuck.” I hiss, dropping to my knees. I hold my palm against the back of my head, which will no doubt have a bump on it, but I don’t feel any pain. Before thinking about what I’m doing, I reach into the trash and pull out the white plastic applicator. I’m no rocket scientist, but I sure as shit know what this is. A pregnancy test.

  A fucking positive pregnancy test.

  My fingers curl around the plastic and I grip it so hard it’s a wonder that the thing doesn’t snap. A tightness spreads across my chest, a loud whooshing pounds in my ears. Gigs is pregnant.

  Gigs. Is. Pregnant.

  All the air leaves my lungs as thoughts bounce back and forth, like a ping pong ball. Is it mine? Of course it is, asshole. How did this happen? You fucked her bareback and begged her to let you come inside her. When the fuck was she going to tell me? You knew something was wrong. What am I going to do? You don’t want a child. The thought is there before I can stop it. I don’t want a child, at least not right now. Fuck. I’m so fucked.

  I don’t know how long I sit on the bathroom floor.

  Shock fades to confusion: Sex without condoms was only a few days ago. Would she be able to tell so soon?

  To panic: What the fuck am I going to do with a child? I’m not ready to be a father.

  To anger: She said she was on birth control. I trusted her.

  When I hear the door shut I bolt up from the bathroom floor. Anger courses through my veins as my feet carry me down the hall.

  “Anders? Babe?” Her voice is light, sweet. Doesn’t she know what she’s done? What we both have done?

  I stop in front of her, the offending item still clutched desperately in my right hand. “When?” I speak only one word. My voice is calmer than I expected, but inside I’m raging.

  “When what?” Her
brows rise in confusion.

  My lips curl in a snarl and a cold bark of laugher escapes. “Stop. Just stop.”

  “Anders,” her voice wobbles. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

  “This is what is going on.” I shove the test at her chest and her hands fly up to catch it.

  “We need to talk.” Her voice is so calm and it infuriates me even more.

  “Talk about what exactly? Talk about how you lied to me? How you tricked me?” I scream. All my anger, all my rage, all my uncertainty is directed at her. I know it’s not right, but I can’t deal with it now, and it feels good to unleash it on her.

  “I never lied to you.” She backs away from me, moving into the living room.

  “Really?” My voice booms. “You said you were on birth control. You said we were safe.”

  “And you said you’d pull out.”

  Her words are like a slap in the face. This is not my fault. Well not entirely, anyway.

  Dumbly I stand there, remaining erect by sheer force of will. My body remains stiff, immobile, but inside I’m shaking. Stomach turning. Heart pumping. A thin band of sweat coats my arms.

  “Gigs,” I say, deflating.

  “Don’t.”

  “Gigs.” I step toward her, but she takes a step back. “I’m not ready to be a father.”

  “And I’m not ready to be a mother.” Her voice is so cold, so caustic, that I recoil.

  “What are we going to do?” My eyes meet hers. I’m scared. More fucking scared than I’ve ever been in my entire life.

  “Nothing.” She turns her face to look out the window.

  “What do you mean, nothing?”

  She squares her body to face me, shoulders back, head high. Her face is a mask of neutrality. How the fuck is she so calm right now? “I’m not pregnant, Anders.”

  At her words my knees go weak and I stagger backward onto the couch. “You’re not… but the test?”

  “Not mine.”

  “What?” The pounding in my head is so loud, it’s like I’m submerged in water. I can’t breathe. I can’t hear. Her voice sounds far away and distant.

  “… Erika… stayed with me for a few days… needed time…”