I awkwardly walk over and wrap my arm around her shoulder in an effort to comfort the girl who used to be my best friend. “No you’re not, what happened?”
“I’m pregnant,” she says, looking at me. I gently wipe a tear from her cheek and then pull back.
“How far along? Who’s the dad?” I ask, feeling like the second question is rude as hell, but those are the only two I can think to ask. She wasn’t ‘seeing’ anyone the last time I was here. Just the guy from the party.
“I’m so stupid,” she says, her hand covering her eyes. I can tell she’s still trying to get used to the fact that she’s pregnant. “It was one of those college guys from the bonfire we went to. We talked for a week or two after the party and then he invited me over to his place and things got out of hand.”
“He didn’t…” I say, gently placing my hand on her shoulder.
“Rape me,” she finishes, moving her hand and shaking her head. “God no, just knocked me up.”
“Shit,” I say. “Which guy was it?”
Just as she’s about to respond to my question, a familiar face approaches us and wraps his arms around Janine’s waist. I can’t put a name to the face, but he must be the baby's dad. Who else would show that kind of affection in a store?
“You’ve met Denny, right?” Janine asks me, trying to extract herself from his groping hands.
Denny. There’s the name. The same guy that tried to get my attention at the party. I feel like I’m going to faint or vomit at the sight of him, at the sound of his name, at that stupid smile on his face.
“I think we have met,” Denny says, going to extend a handshake to me, but I’m saved by my mother’s voice coming from the racks of clothing.
“Penelope, how’d the clothes fit?” she calls.
“I haven’t made it to the dressing room yet,” I say. “I was talking.”
She looks up and sees Janine and comes over to give her a hug. I still haven’t told my mom about our huge fight at the beginning of the summer.
“Hi, sweetie,” my mom says. “How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I’ve been okay,” Janine replies, placing her hand on her stomach and then quickly moving it away.
I wonder how many people know that she’s pregnant. I hope mom doesn’t look in her cart like I did, that might not be the attention Janine is looking for right now.
“You should come over tonight for dinner!” mom says and then looks over at Denny. “You can come too, we’re having a final big family dinner before Penelope leaves for college.”
“Sorry ma'am, I have to be somewhere tonight,” Denny says. “Thanks for the invite though.”
Thank God.
“I can come over,” Janine says and then looks to me for possible assurance. “If you’re sure I won’t be intruding on anything.”
“You wouldn’t,” I say with a small smile.
Mom lets Janine know what time to come over and I excuse myself to go try on my new outfits, grateful to be getting away from Denny the sleaze ball. I wonder if Janine remembers he was the main reason I left that bonfire.
I hang up my outfits on the provided hooks in the dressing room and lock myself inside. Instead of jumping right in on trying the clothes on, I pull my phone out and realize I forgot to respond to Sampson. There are two text messages that I missed over the last ten minutes of running into Janine and Denny.
“Did I come on too strong? Was that too cheesy?” asks Sampson in the first text.
I read the second that I received three minutes after the first. “Okay, yikes. I now know what it feels like to be the clingy girl. I’ll go jump off a metaphorical bridge now.”
I smile and shake my head, typing my response and sending it. “Sorry, I ran into someone at the store. The joys of a small town. And if you’re wanting to metaphorically end it all, I recommend and overpass, not a bridge.”
“Never leave me hangin’ like that, Penelope,” he sends back. “You had my heart racing. I’m too young to have a heart attack.”
I send back a smile emoji with my next response. “I like my gift, thanks again. I have to go, though. My mother is making me play dress up. And you and I are supposed to be letting fate work its magic.”
“Get something nice to wear on our first date,” Sampson sends back. “Can’t wait to spontaneously run into you on campus.”
Is this what liking someone feels like? A constant smile on your face, butterflies in your stomach every time your phone chimes, wondering when you’ll see the person again? I have no idea if I will be able to follow my own rule. It’s going to take a ton of self-restraint to not call Sampson the second I get to Maryville.
The doorbell rings and I jump up to get it, opening the door I see my dad standing there with a bottle of wine. He smiles and pulls me into a tight hug. I try not to be bothered by the fact that my dad rang the doorbell instead of just walking in. It’s not a good sign.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, hugging him tightly. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too, kid,” he says. “How’ve you been?”
“Good,” I say as I close the door behind him. “Are you going to be able to help me move next week?”
“Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he says with a smile and follows me into the kitchen where Mom has been cooking up a storm. “Smells great in here. I brought some wine.”
Mom looks up from washing her hands and dries them before taking the bottle from my dad. She thanks him, not making eye contact and then goes over to the oven to check on the meatloaf.
The doorbell rings again. “That must be Janine, I’ll get it,” I say, excusing myself from my parents awkward interaction with each other. Have they already forgotten what it’s like to love each other?
“Hey,” I say, opening the door for her.
She holds up a round plastic container. “I brought dessert, your favorite, cheesecake.”
“Cool,” I reply. “My dad just got here.”
I close the door behind her and she leans into whisper to me. “I take it they haven’t gotten back together?”
“Nope,” I say with a shake of my head. “I’m pretty sure all of his stuff is now moved out. It’s not looking good.”
“Sorry,” Janine says, glancing down at the floor. “Should I be here? I can go.”
“No, stay. It’ll make it less awkward. They’re probably both in there staring at the boiling water for the potatoes.”
And sure enough, when Janine and I walk into the kitchen, they are both staring at the oven as if it’s about to explode if they look away.
“Look who showed up, guys,” I say to my parents so they’ll stop being so quiet.
“Janine,” my dad says with a smile. “How have you been?”
“Good,” she says. “How have you guys been?”
“Good, good,” Dad says, but he doesn’t seem to mean it. “It’s been weird not seeing you around. What have you been doing all summer?”
I notice Janine’s cheeks blush when she replies. “Oh, just hanging out.”
“Is dinner almost done, mom?” I ask, trying to save us all from this bizarre conversation we’re trying to have. It’s like we’re all tiptoeing around a divorce and pregnancy.
Just then, the stove timer buzzes and my mom grabs her oven mitts. “Looks like right about now. Can you and Janine set the table, please?”
Janine and I both nod, glad to have something to do. I grab the plates from the cabinets and she grabs the silverware. We’ve set the table together so many times, so we know the routine by heart.
I set the plates on the table and move my box of goodies from Sampson to the floor in the corner of the room.
“What’s in the box?” she asks.
I shake my head and start putting the plates in their spots. “Nothing, just a gift from a camp friend. Something to welcome me to college.”
“You’re already making friends at school?” she asks, her eyes not meeting mine. Her voice seems
sad.
“Yeah, a few. I met some girls at orientation and then a few of my coworkers at camp go to Maryville.”
“I’m glad,” Janine says, placing the silverware next to the plates. “I’m glad that you’re making friends already.”
“Me too,” I say.
Dad comes and sits four wine glasses at the table and I look at him like he’s lost his mind. “Umm, dad… I think you got too many glasses out.”
“Don’t be silly,” he says. “Tonight’s a celebration. You’re going off to college, we’re going to have a toast.”
Janine’s eyes are huge when I turn to her and apologize. “Just pretend, right?”
“This will be interesting,” she says.
Mom and Dad start bringing the food over and sitting it on the table. Janine digs in right away. I’d blame it on her pregnancy cravings, but she’s never been shy around my parents.
“How are your parents?” my dad asks Janine as she passes him some food.
“They’re okay, hanging in there I guess.”
“I’ll have to give your mom a call one day,” my mother says, pointing her fork at Janine. “I feel like I haven’t talked to her in ages.”
“She’d like that,” Janine says with a smile. “I’ll let her know you guys asked about her.”
“So, Penelope,” my dad begins, raising up his glass once his plate is full of food. “Shall we make a toast?”
I nod and pick up my glass, my mom and Janine also stop and hold up their glasses.
“To Penelope: may you have the brightest future. Your mother and I are so proud of you, and we know you’re destined to do amazing things. Good luck on your next adventure in life. To Penelope!”
My mom and Janine say ‘to Penelope’ in unison and we all clink our glasses. I almost gag when the wine meets my tongue. I haven’t had alcohol since that awful first night at camp. I’m not sure if the wine is worse or not. Trying my best, I swallow a small sip and turn to look at Janine who has sat her glass down, a purple drink mustache across her lips. She grabs her napkin and wipes her mouth quickly.
Janine and I are pretty quiet for the rest of dinner. My parents occasionally ask us questions and we answer, but the dinner is more awkward than I thought it would be. Janine and I excuse ourselves after about 45 minutes of discussion, taking our dirty dishes to the sink as we go, but leaving our barely touched wine on the table. I know my mom will probably finish our glasses once dad leaves.
The two of us head outside to the backyard where my old swing set still stands. My parents kept it all these years, but I don’t think it’ll ever get used again. Mom said they were saving it for ‘grandkids’, but those won’t be coming for a very long time.
We take a seat on the swings side by side but facing each other. I gently push myself back and forth, knowing the set isn’t too reliable. When we were kids, we flipped it multiple times because my dad never filled in the concrete around the legs. Janine sits idly, her hands in her lap, staring at the ground.
“What’s your plan?” I ask, and then clarify my question. “With the baby, that is.”
“Have it, stay here in this crap town for the rest of my life,” she says with a sullen expression on her face.
“And the dad? Are you going to stay with Denny?”
“I think the real question is: will he stay with me?” she asks. “He’s talking about going back to school, which means I’ll be staying here. I know he doesn’t want to be a dad.”
“He probably should have thought about that before.”
“We’re both to blame,” Janine says, looking up at me. “I wasn’t taking my birth control daily, and he never asked about that kind of stuff.”
I shake my head and look down at my shoes, not sure what to say to that. How do you comfort someone like that? Janine and I were in the same health class. We heard the same sex-ed talks year after year in high school. We both knew birth control and which ones were best. There’s no excuse...
“You must think I’m a total idiot,” Janine says.
I shrug. “Not total…”
She punches me in the arm and I laugh as I rub the spot she hit.
“I just…” I start, not knowing which words to choose. “Why Denny? He was a total creep.”
“Honestly?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and looking at me. I nod and she proceeds. “It was stupid. In my head, he was just supposed to be a summer fling. I knew that he had a thing for you. I saw you guys talking at the party. When you and I were fighting, I thought, ‘what better way to get back at her than to sleep with the guy she liked?’”
“But I didn’t like him, Janine!”
“I kind of figured that out. It was shitty and stupid. Now I will be connected to him for the rest of my life because of this baby.”
“So, what are you going to do?” I ask.
She takes in a shaky breath and lets it out slowly “I have no idea. I guess I spend the next seven months or so going through the pregnancy. I’m keeping the baby, and my mom said she’d help me as long as I don’t run off with Denny or take her help for granted. I’ll find a job after the baby comes. No sense in finding one right now. After that, I have no idea.”
“What about school?” I ask.
She chuckles and shakes her head. “You and I both know I was never book smart. College was never in my cards.”
“You don’t actually need college, right? I’m sure there’s something you can do with a high school education. A monkey could answer phones and work in an office.”
“Most jobs are run by robots and automatic recordings,” she says. “As long as I don’t end up working at the Little Shrimp like my mom when she was my age, I think I’ll be doing fine.”
I stare up at the stars, but can’t make them out like I could when I was at camp. Star gazing was what always made me feel better. I’m not sure if I’m missing camp or if I’m missing Sampson.
“Enough about me,” Janine says. “How was camp?”
“God!” I say, shaking my head. “Do you really want to know?”
“Sounds juicy,” she says. “I’m all ears.”
I catch Janine up on everything that happened at camp. The good, the bad, and the ugly—from the fun stuff I had the chance to do and the things I missed out on because of Viv’s attitude. From the rise and fall of Viv and Sampson’s relationship, to my realization that I did like Sampson. By the time I finish getting her up to speed on my life, it’s pitch black out and the lightning bugs are in full force in the backyard.
To my surprise it actually felt good to catch Janine up on everything that happened this summer when we weren’t talking. Though, I now feel a ton of bug bites on my legs, and I know they’re going to itch like crazy. Bug spray isn’t just for camp.
“Ya know what?” Janine says after my words sink in. “I think I’d rather be knocked up than go through your summer camp drama. Viv sounds worse than me.”
“I don’t think anyone could top how horrible Viv was,” I reply. “I’ve never met such a hateful human in my life.”
“Sampson sounds nice though,” she says. “Maybe he can be my baby daddy.”
I don’t laugh at that.
“I’m kidding,” she says. “You must totally be into him.”
“I guess so,” I say. “You know me though, I don’t know how to date. I’ve always been the awkward friend who was a girl, never the girlfriend.”
“That’s what a new start is for,” Janine says. “You can go to college and be whoever you want to be. You don’t have to be the friend, you can be the girlfriend.”
“But I’m also going to college to get good grades and a job…” I say in protest.
“But you’ll need someone to cuddle when you get stressed out during finals…”
I look at her, shaking my head. “You only have a one-track mind, don’t you? Why did you even become my friend?”
She laughs. “What can I say? I’ve always been boy crazy. Every slut needs the goodie-two-shoes friend
to keep her out of trouble.”
“I didn’t do too good of a job, did I?” I ask, nodding toward her belly that’s just starting to show. I have a feeling she’ll be one of those fit pregnant girls, like the ones that only gain the weight they’re supposed to, but hardly even show any of it, the ones with cute baby bumps that everyone envies.
She reaches out for my hand and holds it in hers. “I made my bed, now I have to sleep in it. This was all me... Well, mostly me. You’re going to be a kickass person in the real world, and I hope you don’t forget to come and visit your little ‘niece’ or ‘nephew’.”
“Of course I will,” I say. “I promise. You’ll keep me up to date on how things are progressing?”
“All of the dirty details,” she says with a wicked grin. “It’ll be bonus ‘birth control’ for you.”
I smile and we shake on it.
“I guess I should get going,” Janine says as she stands up from the swing. “Mom will start to worry. What other trouble can I get in? It’s not like I can get knocked up again!”
I laugh and shake my head, standing up to hug her. I don’t feel like we’re back to being the friends we were at the beginning of the summer, but I do feel like we’re taking a step toward that again. I squeeze her tightly and rub my hand on her back, not wanting to let go.
“Thanks for coming,” I tell her as I pull away.
“Of course, thanks for having me,” she says. “Good luck with school. You leave tomorrow?”
“Day after tomorrow,” I clarify. “I’ll be packing up tomorrow, and we leave early Friday morning.”
“Safe travels,” she says, backing away from me. “And don’t do anything I would do!”
I smile and watch her turn to go, remembering those words from when I left for camp.
As if the drive to campus couldn’t be more awkward with my dad, we passed some off campus apartments with bed sheets spray painted to say things like ‘Freshmen Daughter Drop Off’ and ‘Daughter Day Care’.
Dad huffs and shakes his head. “Your dorm is girls only, right?”
“Yeah…” I lie. Anything to make him feel better seems worth it. I wouldn’t go for any of those frat guys who wrote those not-so-clever sayings anyway. I hope to God Sampson has never been a part of that scene, and as we pass another frat house, I make sure to look and see if I recognize a guy with shaggy brown hair, but most of them have buzz cuts or super long hair in man buns. Not Sampson.
The Last July: A New Adult Romance Page 23