by Unknown
My gown is jerked down over my pelvis again. A tap on my thigh. “You can sit up now, Miss Stanton.”
With a stethoscope she listens to my breathing, does a fast take of my pulse, then returns to her short spinning stool and wheels across to the desk.
Anxiously, I watch as she starts rotating that weird little menstrual calculator thingy they have. She quickly jots notes on my chart, and then whirls around to face me, shoving a stack of pamphlets at me.
“We can’t do an abortion for you here, Miss Stanton. We’re going to refer you to outpatient at the hospital. You should read those. I have an opening tomorrow morning. I can do the procedure then. Is that what you want? Or would you rather speak with our counselors before you and your partner decide?”
She stares at me expectantly. Why the hospital?
“I don’t understand. I thought I could take care of it today.”
“You’re in your second trimester. A different procedure. Perfectly safe. But we don’t do D & E abortions here. The pamphlets will explain everything. I suggest you read them thoroughly. It will explain the entire procedure.”
I can’t catch hold of what she’s just said…what does that mean?
I feel the displacement of air around me, and Neil’s voice pulls me from my stupor. “How pregnant is my girlfriend?”
He’s hovering near the table, alarmed and anxious.
“Close to fourteen weeks,” Dr. Leary replies calmly.
Fourteen weeks? I frown up at him and I can tell we are both counting backward, trying to figure out when fourteen weeks ago was. Neil calculates conception faster. His posture changes, his jaw stiffening again. The math confirms that the baby isn’t his.
He sinks back into his chair and I rapidly study his fast-changing expression. I’m not sure what I’m seeing flashing in his eyes. Relief or sadness…strange, but I can’t tell.
“Chrissie is just beyond the cut-off for what we do here at the clinic,” Dr. Leary says to Neil. She fixes her eyes back on me. “I promise you, it doesn’t make the procedure less safe. It’s just a different procedure.”
I swallow down the lump in my throat. “Schedule it, please.”
By the time I leave the clinic, I feel like someone has just dropped an anvil on me. I’ve got something inserted in my vagina to dilate me, a list of pre-op instructions, and Neil is carrying admission forms for the hospital in the morning.
Outside the clinic, I stop. I bend over, breathing in and out, trying not to vomit and trying not to cry.
“You don’t have to do this, Chrissie,” Neil says softly.
He looks sad. Achingly sad. Shit, and it’s not even his baby. “I know. But I’m going to do this.”
Neil folds me into his chest and holds me tightly up against him. He’s talking but I can’t catch the words and I don’t want to. I don’t want to think. Not one more thought until after this is through.
I bury my face against his chest to block out the world from my vision. Oh fuck, I’ve even screwed up getting an abortion.
~~~
I clutch the pillow tightly against my stomach, willing myself not to wake up. I don’t really remember today clearly and I’m afraid that if I open my eyes I will suddenly remember everything too clearly. It’s all just fragments and disconnected pictures and I want it to stay that way forever.
The snippets start to flash in my memory. The smell of the hospital. Jeez, why do they smell so bad? How cold and stark the room was. I don’t know what I expected the hospital room to look like, I hadn’t been in one before, but I hated how old and colorless it all was. Then something being injected into my IV and a mask with the gas coming over my face. Counting—yes, I remember counting, as Neil held my hand and spoke quietly to me. Then nothing. Merciful blackness.
The next clear moment is waking, and seeing Neil sitting in a chair near the bed, looking like a guy who’s been run over by a truck. Then relief on his face, after noticing I was awake, mixing with a lot of other things that I didn’t want to try to understand. Then the drive home and having Neil put me into my own bed. The feel of him sitting beside me, his long, tanned fingers lightly stroking my emotion-drained body. Then sleep. The absence of everything.
I lift up my head. Neil is sitting on the floor beside the bed, back against my nightstand, elbows on knees, face in hands.
“How long have you been sitting there?”
Neil looks up and his eyes slowly focus. “I don’t know. Since you fell asleep.” He turns to look at the clock on the stand behind him. “Four hours.”
I manage to get myself into a sitting position. “You’ve just been watching me sleep for four hours?”
He shrugs. “Not watching you sleep. Thinking.”
My eyes widen in surprise.
“Things were fucking intense today,” he says and I cringe. I don’t want to talk about today.
“I don’t know how I’m ever going to repay you for all you did, Neil. I still can’t believe you went with me. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
His eyes lock on me, flashing and angry. “Fuck you, Chrissie.”
My cheeks flood with a burn and I watch as he rises and then reaches for my antibiotic on the table.
He pops off the cap. “You need to take one of these.” He holds it out for me and grabs a bottle of water. He waits until I take my pill. “Are you in pain? The doctor said you could have ibuprofen if you need it. ”
I shake my head and follow him with my eyes as he moves around the bed. He settles on the vacant spot beside me. A ragged, shuddering breath leaves his body.
“I hated watching you go through this today,” he whispers and slowly pulls me close against him. “I fucking love you and you don’t get it. I didn’t stay to be here with you because I’m some fucking moronic nice-guy. I would have been out the door if it had been any girl but you. I stayed because I love you, Chrissie. And you don’t even fucking get it.”
The look in his eyes rends my heart. The room is so heavy with grimness. I want to pull away from Neil. I want to melt into him. I want not to hurt. I want him not to hurt. I want us to be all right.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “You don’t need more shit from me. Not now. Not today. I’m sorry.”
The anguished look on Neil’s face makes my numbness fade and too many things come tumbling back all at once.
How close to being perfect Neil and I are together. How much I love Alan. All the mistakes I’ve made, including this giant one from today—and yes, it was a mistake and I didn’t want to do it and I did it anyway. How lost and alone I feel. How afraid I am of the future since I don’t really seem to be going anywhere. In a month I’m out of college. Shouldn’t I be going somewhere? How unfair it is that I’m holding on to Neil for dear life, and how cruel my stupid best friend comment was.
Too much all at once. I lie against Neil, my emotion-drained limbs without sensation, and I don’t know what to say. I brush at the tears dripping from my nose. “I’m sorry, Neil.”
For some reason, my apology kicks up whatever is going on inside Neil. His jaw tightens more.
“I don’t have to be in Seattle until the beginning of June. I’m staying in Berkeley until then,” he says.
“No. I’m not letting you do that. I can’t let you do that. I’m fine.”
His green eyes look even more determined. “I’m staying.”
The words clog in my throat, and my thoughts jumble in my head. I shouldn’t let him stay in Berkeley, and I don’t know how to tell him to go. I’m not even sure if I want to.
He closes his eyes and exhales. “It’s done. Behind us. I’m not going anywhere. Don’t tell me to. I won’t listen. I wouldn’t be able to work if I left before you were OK, Chrissie.” A myriad of emotions crosses his face. “But I don’t want to talk, not ever, about today. And don’t you ever mention Alan Manzone to me again. Trust me, Chrissie. You don’t want to fucking do that.”
He looks at me and what’s in his gaze is potent and level
ing, so I just nod. I ease down until I’m tucked against his body and I wrap my arms around him. For the first time ever, it feels as if Neil needs to be held by me and something about that prompts me not to argue with him about staying in Berkeley.
I don’t know why I do it. The voice inside my head is screaming at me not to. It’s probably wrong. Another mistake. Everything inside me is in parts, dangling, and unclear. Nothing about my life makes sense to me anymore. But I do know I shouldn’t let Neil stay and I sure as hell shouldn’t let him love me.
Somehow, I’ve become my worst me with him.
CHAPTER FOUR
I exit the dimly lit lecture hall into the bright May sunlight to find Neil standing beneath the shade of a giant oak, calmly smoking.
I make my way down the steps and cross the grass to him. Neil stomps out his cigarette.
“How’d you do?” he asks.
“I finished the exam. Beyond that, no promises.”
I make a silly face to maintain my surface expression of no big deal when I am anything but casual over having completed my last exam.
Neil drops a light kiss on my nose. “So how does it feel, Miss Parker”—his voice changes into a lousy Professor Lambert imitation—“to soon be graduating The University California Berkeley.”
I shove my face upward into his. “The grades haven’t posted yet, Professor Lambert. I could still disappoint you. And I could still fuck this one up.”
Neil chuckles, his lips touching mine in a fast kiss. “Pessimist,” he chides, then he takes a step back, grabbing my hand, as we walk off-campus in what I hope will be my last moments ever at The University California Berkeley.
A month ago I wouldn’t have thought today would be possible. My world was crashing around me, and finishing school was something I believed wouldn’t happen. But I’ve made it through my last final—I stare up at Neil as he loosely drapes an arm around my shoulder…thanks to Neil—and I am done, and will have successfully graduated from Cal in four years, in spite of the mess of my life I’ve made here.
“We’re definitely going to have to work on getting you a more positive attitude, Chrissie.” Neil’s green eyes start to gleam. “It’s a big deal that you finished school. I’m so proud of you. You should be proud. Especially with everything…” He breaks off, looking uncomfortable with himself, and then says, “It’s a big deal to graduate Cal.”
A slightly grim wash tempers the lines of his handsome features, and my insides shudder. Neil is thinking about April. I don’t want to think about that day and I’ve definitely got bigger problems to deal with. Graduation means change, and I still don’t know where I’m going after Berkeley.
“Are you hungry?” Neil asks.
“Sure, I could eat.”
We cut across the grass and enter the food court area. Neil pulls back the door to our hippie vegan restaurant.
I stop. “Why do you always bring me here? Why don’t we go get burgers or something? I’ve always wondered why we eat here since neither of us are vegan or vegetarian.”
Neil’s smile is boyish and sweet. “We leave Berkeley tomorrow and I want to eat here, Chrissie. It’s where we had our first date four years ago.”
Distress overwhelms me, and I fight to maintain my outward composure.
“I thought you said that wasn’t a date.”
Neil’s eyes lock on mine. “It was to me.”
I step rapidly ahead of him into the restaurant. My heart clenches even as the blood pumps faster through my veins. The way Neil looks at me is an overwhelming thing. I can see it in his eyes; he is in love me and he thinks we’re going to be together again. But I’m not sure if I’m ready to try to make a go of it with Neil a second time, even though we’ve been really good together this past month. I probably shouldn’t have let him move back into the bedroom. Oh well, it’s not like we have sex, but even without the sex, things with Neil are as confusing as ever.
I just seem to be making more mess in my life. We live together, but we are not together. Same old, same old. That’s our status and somehow it just sort of happened on its own. Easy and wrong. I never seem to be able to do the right thing with Neil. In my head I know what the right thing is. My mouth and my body refuse to cooperate.
Are we together again? It feels like we are, but I’m not sure. How can a girl not be sure about something like this?
Maybe it’s just because he’s such an incredible guy and it’s impossible not to like him. And a girl would have to be dead not to get turned on by Neil.
I give him a fast once-over out of the corner of my eye, smiling at the way his gaze rapidly searches the case trying to find something he’s willing to eat here. He is gorgeous in every way, inside and out.
I plant my arms on the top of the display case and try to decide what to order. Slim pickings. Not even sandwiches. There’s hardly any food here.
“Do you know what you want, Chrissie?”
I shake my head. Nothing looks good.
Neil frowns at the sparse assortment and says, “Well, this might be a bust for our last date in Berkeley. There’s not much of a selection today.”
“We’re shutting down early this afternoon,” the waitress answers from her side of the counter. “Not much business with finals and students moving off campus this week.”
“Yep, campus is pretty dead,” Neil replies, continuing to stare into the cabinet. “OK, Chrissie, they’ve got vegan carrot cake, vegan brownie, and vegan…strudel?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s apple popover not strudel.”
He shakes his head. “Really? It doesn’t look like it.”
“She’s right,” the waitress announces.
“I was kind of in the mood for strudel.” Neil rubs his chin with his long fingers. “Are you sure?”
The waitress laughs. “I’m sure.”
“Crap.” He frowns. “Carrot cake or brownie, Chrissie? I’m not really hot on either.”
“Whatever you want is fine. Or we could just go somewhere else, Neil.”
Neil looks up. “Not a chance. We’re having our last coffee together in Berkeley here.”
He leans in, lightly kisses me, and is smiling as he turns back to the clerk waiting for our order. The waitress’s eyes widen and her expression changes, sparkly and astonished.
“I know you,” she says in a stunned way.
Neil shrugs, dropping his gaze back toward the case. “You should. We’ve been coming in here four years. I think we want the carrot cake.”
“No,” she corrects with more enthusiasm. “I saw you at Sleep Train. You’re that singer from Arctic Hole, aren’t you? You’re him. ”
I bite my lower lip to keep from laughing. Him. There is something about the way she says that and Neil’s reaction to it that is so amusing.
Then I note that Neil is not amused. He doesn’t look up at the waitress and he gives every appearance of a guy who wants to drop through the floor.
The clerk frowns and I realize I am frowning too since calm, smiling Neil is anything but calm and smiling. He’s pulsing with uneasiness.
The girl plants her crossed arms on the counter and stares down at Neil. “What? Don’t you like being recognized? If you don’t want to be famous why are you in a band?”
Neil shakes his head. “It’s about the music. Nothing else. Recognize me. Don’t recognize me. I don’t really care, except today I’m kind of annoyed. I just want to have some coffee with my girlfriend.”
She grabs some pastry tissue, and instead of being offended by Neil’s comment, she nods approvingly. “That’s why you’re so cool. You don’t give a shit about the hype. Your music is genius. Not like the shit they play on the radio.”
“Thanks,” Neil says, but his voice is clipped, strained.
“Are you in Berkeley for a concert or something? I’d really love to see you live again.”
“Nope, just visiting home for a while,” he says, and abruptly changes the conversation and orders two coffees and a slice of
cake.
The girl sets our drinks on the counter. “I can’t believe you live in Berkeley. My roommate is going to flip when I tell her you came in here today.”
Neil reaches for his wallet, and the waitress waves him off when he goes to pay. After thanking her, Neil grabs our coffees while I take our cake and move quickly ahead of him to open the door.
We settle at a table on the patio and I rip open my packets of raw sugar. “It was kind of sweet that that girl recognized you and didn’t make you pay. Why did you get all jumpy?”
Neil leans back in his chair. “I don’t know. It makes me uncomfortable. I guess I’m not used to it yet. It’s just weird, you know? Perfect strangers thinking they know you. People you don’t know buying you shit. It’s weird.”
I stir my coffee. “How long has this been happening? People recognizing you on the street?”
Neil shrugs. “It doesn’t happen very often. Four months maybe. Since the last album released.”
“You have a song on the charts. It was bound to start happening. There are worst things than being recognized, Neil. It means people are starting to notice the music. It’s a good thing.”
“It’s bullshit, Chrissie. Bullshit. You know that. Who gives a fuck if anyone knows who I am?”
“I do.” I make a sweet pout across the table. “You’ve worked hard. I’m proud of you. And you better get used to it because the new album is amazing.” I shake my head, stirring my coffee. “Boy, you looked awkward in there.” I laugh. “But you are very cute when you are being shy and humble. Not at all like the conceited jerk I live with.”
I’m smiling when I look back up at Neil, but my face falls and my heart stills. Why is he angry with me?
“Is that what we’re doing? Living together? When I called you my girlfriend back there you got all tense and shit. And you still haven’t told me if you’re coming to Seattle with me.”
My scalp prickles as heat covers my flesh. Oh shit, what made me say that last part—jerk I live with? Not smart, Chrissie. Not smart.