Travis raises the side of his lip in a sneer. “Watch out for them, Alex.”
“Still bitter about that, baby?” Josh catches up with him, jabbing him in the gut.
“No, dumb ass. Just giving the man a head’s up.”
Alex sticks out his fist, and the boys smack knuckles. “Thanks, dude.” The use of the trigger word makes us all chuckle.
We must look like a small tribe, walking up the street. Four girls mixed in with six guys, who all seem to be getting taller by the minute. Ben and Alex have always been tall, and Dominic always towered over all of us. But the younger ones are catching up, with Trav in the lead.
“Hey, look who else is here,” Travis says, tipping his chin in the direction of a group of guys leaning against a truck.
Oh shit. Josh and Travis meet eyes, taking deep breaths. Josh holds out his arms to both sides, halting the crew. “Keep the girls back,” he mutters.
“Just stop. This is so not necessary.” I grab Josh’s arm and try to get him to stop. Alex takes my hand, not letting me go any farther. I whip around to try and talk sense into him. “Really? You’re gonna let those two get into a fight?”
“Jonathan, get your ass back over here,” Keesh yells as he breaks into a jog to catch up with the other boys. Steph stands with her hands on her hips, shaking her head, Dom’s hand on her back. Andi looks like she’s gonna chew not only her fingernails, but her entire fingertips off. Her poor little eyes are filled with worry.
“This is bullshit,” I tell them, breaking out of Alex’s grasp. I take a step only to be held back by Ben this time. “You guys suck. Don’t let them do this.”
I hate being ignored. Keesh tucks her hand in mine. “They’ll be fine. Plus, that asshole deserves what’s coming to him.”
Steph hooks her arms with me. “I agree. I’d do it myself if they let me.” She reaches out and tugs Andi closer to her. “Don’t worry, girl. Our boys got this.”
The girls and I squeeze closer together as the boys reach Quinn and his friends. Josh shakes hands with some of the guys—a few are his teammates—then, in a flash of movement, he pushes Quinn, causing him to slam loudly against the truck.
“What the fuck?” he yells, his voice carrying all the way to us. Josh pulls his fist back to swing, but Jon stops him.
Thank you. Someone is thinking here.
Or not. Jon punches Quinn straight in the face. His head whips back and Jon knocks his fist into him again. Some of the guys start to rush in, but Josh and Travis hold them off. When Quinn falls to the ground, Jon leans down, pulls him back up, and hits him one more time. Son of a bitch. He needs to stop. A crowd gathers to watch the show.
“If you ever,” Jon screams, jabbing a finger in Quinn’s face, “come near Meg or the rest of the girls again, it’s going to be worse next time. When a girl says no or pushes you away, you just dig your hands into your pockets and step the fuck back. Got it?” Quinn nods. “Good.”
Jon drops him and backs away. Josh smacks hands again with his friends and the boys head back our way. “Just a head’s up, ladies. Quinn doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. You might want to think twice before you go out with him,” Travis yells to the crowd. People start to back off, looking disgusted.
When the boys reach us, Jon ruffles my hair. “That was fun, Meggie.” He then plants a kiss on Keesh’s cheek. “You guys promised me a party, so what are we waiting for?”
My stomach is in knots as we make our way to Eric’s backyard. Quinn’s a total dickhead, but seeing Jon kick his ass was not at all fun to watch.
The guys are behind us, chatting about it, letting Jon know what a freaking hero he is.
“I can’t believe you’re so stupid, Josh. How’re you gonna swing with your pitching arm? You could’ve broke your hand, dumb ass,” Jon scolds him. Aha. That’s why he held him back.
“Thanks for looking out,” Josh says. The guy is all hyped, bouncing around. “Wanna dance, girls?”
Jon’s gone. Again. He came flying in and out of town with just enough time to create a mess for me and to leave Keesh in a foul mood. He did take care of the problem he started for me when he kicked Quinn’s ass. Even so, I’m still not happy about it or thrilled the boys know what happened. One good thing about the whole ordeal is I doubt Quinn’s gonna get grabby with anyone else from now on. My dear friend, however, is not taken care of. She’s a complete mess all over again.
She and Josh took Jon to the airport on their own this time. We didn’t make a giant deal out of him leaving, thinking it would make it easier for him and for us, but Keesh is still taking his absence pretty hard. It’s only been a few days and the girl is downright moody, the slightest things setting her off. Josh joking around, Steph using her hair clip, and Alex squeezing my hand. She’s either tearing people’s heads off or crying her eyeballs out.
“Do we need to have another chocolate coma-burn the Crocs-get over my old boyfriend slumber party?” I ask Keesh. When Jon left over a year ago, she was one step away from drowning in her own tears and about five steps beyond complete fashion disaster.
Now, along with committing several clothing crimes, I’m not so sure she’s even brushing her teeth. The girl’s breath is kicking. She yawns, exhaling another swell of toxic air. “Meggie, don’t mess with me, okay? You don’t have the slightest clue what I’m dealing with.”
I grab her by the arm and lead her outside the door of the ASB classroom and around the corner, searching for some privacy. Steph picked the worse day ever to stay home sick. If Keesh is about to drop a baby bombshell on me, I don’t know if I can handle it alone. “Are you pregnant?” I ask, not knowing how to sugar coat this conversation.
“What the hell are you talking about? No, I’m not pregnant.” Just saying the words, her face scrunches up taking offense to my blunt question.
“What’s wrong with you then? You’re worse than the first time Jon Jon left. You can’t let it consume you.”
“You’re one to talk. Like you haven’t sulked and thrown yourself a pity party every time Alex goes home.” She throws the words at me like a slap to the face.
“I’ve gotten better. It doesn’t faze me much now. I just get over it and move on.” I am absolutely being honest. I don’t let it get to me anymore. Not like I used to.
She rolls her eyes at me. “You’ve had a lot more practice than me. Jon has only come and gone twice. Alex has been doing this for almost three years. Plus, you haven’t …” her voice trails off and her face tightens with emotion.
“I haven’t what?” I haven’t done a lot of things.
She looks away from me at first. Then, slowly and warily, she gazes at me with concern. “You and Alex haven’t … you know … done it.”
“And you and Jon Jon have?” I mutter, looking around in every direction to make sure the coast is clear. This is not the kind of conversation I want others to hear.
She doesn’t have to answer my question. Her eyes speak for her better than any words can.
A million questions come to mind. “How do you know you’re not pregnant?”
“We used protection. Double protection. I’m on the pill and he used a condom,” she whispers.
“Wow. I didn’t know you were on the pill.”
“My mom made me when Jon and I got together. When he left, I just kept taking it.”
“So you guys were doing it before he left too?”
“No. The night he came home was the first time,” she confesses.
“And you’re sad because you guys did that and now he’s gone. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I knew he was going to leave, but I did it anyway.” She walks away from me and takes a seat on a bench.
Oh hell. I’m gonna kill Steph. What do I say?
“Was it, at least, good?” Making her laugh might make her feel a tiny bit better.
She smiles, dabbing the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “Not the first time, but all the times after that, it was.” Her gri
n spreads, and she raises her brows up and down.
“All the times? You skank.”
We’re on our way back into class when my phone chimes.
Meggie. I need to talk. Please.
Never in a kabillion years would I expect to get a text from Amy.
Wht do u want?
I’m in the parking lot. Come meet me. Its important. I need u. Dont tell the girls.
I dont want to talk to u.
I know you dont and you know I wouldnt ask if I really didn’t need you. Please.
Okay, she’s scaring me.
B right thr.
I run back into class, give Keesh some lame excuse about going to see Mrs. Flores, and run out to meet Amy.
As I make my way to the parking lot, it occurs to me there is no way I’m going to be able to find her quickly in this sea of cars. I power walk past a few rows but don’t see her. I’m just about to take out my cell when I see a flash of blonde hair and waving hands. Changing directions, I practically jog over to her.
“What do you want?” I ask her, rudely. But then I get a good look at her face and realize something is really wrong. Her eyes are bloodshot and swollen, not a trace of makeup on her, and her hands are trembling. “What is it? What’s wrong, Amy? Are you okay?”
She sniffles for a few breaths before she sucks in a gulp of air and exhales slowly. She clasps her hands together, and worry fills her eyes. “I need your help, Meggie.”
Seeing her like this almost erases everything we’ve been through. My mind races, replaying the evil highlights, yet I can’t walk away. “Sure.” I put my hands on hers. “What is it? What can I do?”
Amy looks down at her feet. She’s never been one to look away from anything. This is so not good. “I need you to come with me. But you can’t tell anyone about this. Not Keesha, not Stephanie, not Alex. Not anyone. I know I have no right to ask, but I really need someone and you’re the only one I trust. Can you do this?”
“Do what? I have no idea what I’m agreeing to.”
“Just get in the car first, and I’ll tell you on the way.” A chirp sounds, and then the click of locks. She walks away from me and opens up the driver’s side of a red Toyota Corolla. Wow, she drives now. And she has her own car. Why am I surprised?
I walk around to the other side of the car and get in. There’s silence for ten minutes until she pulls into a small strip mall, which is vaguely familiar.
“You remember this place, don’t you?” she says, putting the car in park and cutting the engine.
“Family planning, right?” I glance over at her, hands shaking even more, and tears streaming down her face. “Are you pregnant?” Who would’ve ever thought I’d ask that question two times in one day and be completely serious? It would be awesome if the answer was “no” both times, but I think it’s safe to say that’s not going to happen in this case.
“Yeah. Please don’t tell anyone. Please.” Her eyes are begging me.
“Sure, Amy. You can trust me. I won’t say a thing.” I wait as she catches her breath, again. “What are we doing here though? It’s a little late for pills or condoms.”
The look in her eyes could shatter your dreams. The look of utter sadness, complete defeat.
“Oh no. Oh shit. You’re going to have an abortion? Now?” She doesn’t say anything, but her answer is written all over her face. “And you want me to go with you? Isn’t this something that should be done with your family? Your mom?”
“Are you crazy? You know how my parents would react. I can’t tell them. I haven’t told anyone. I’ve been dealing with this all on my own. I’ve had counseling with the nurses, but that’s it. I couldn’t imagine telling anyone else. But then the time came, and I just couldn’t come on my own. I needed someone here with me. Please, Meggie. Come with me. I’m so scared.”
Twenty Eight
This is not happening. My feet feel heavy as I follow Amy into the clinic. I’ve been here before but, under these circumstances, the place feels completely foreign. Amy checks in at the counter, signing in on a chart, and finds a seat near the door. Is she gonna bolt? I sit next to her, feeling the subtle buzz of my chair as her body shakes with nerves. I reach out and hold her hand. She looks at me, the sides of her mouth curving down into a deep frown. She shifts in her seat and rests her head on my shoulder.
And we wait. Soft whimpers can be heard every few minutes. She doesn’t make a move, her hand still in mine, squeezing tightly, and her head like a ton of bricks weighing on my shoulder.
Until her name is called.
“Amy, we’re ready for you,” a woman, in pastel pink scrubs holding a clipboard, says softly. We both stand. “I’m sorry, honey, but you can’t come back with her,” she tells me. “We can come and get you when she goes to recovery if it’s okay with her.”
Amy nods to the nurse and turns to me. I brush her tear-soaked hair from her face, then give her a quick hug. “I’m here if you need me.”
And with that, she disappears behind the big white door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Which is not a good thing. Not a good thing at all.
I pace the empty waiting room, grateful I don’t have a room full of eyes staring at my near nervous breakdown. I stand in front of a wall display housing pamphlets for everything from getting your period to spermicidal gel to living with chlamydia. I scan up and down the rows until I find one that says, “You’re Pregnant: What Are Your Options?”
Taking a copy in my hands, I study the cover. No images, just the words printed in block letters. I go back to my seat and begin reading.
First, the pamphlet informs teens they should communicate with their parents, assuming they’re not in any danger. I’ve always thought my mom would kick my ass if I came home and said I was pregnant. But deep down, I know that wouldn’t be the case. She’d be there to support me, offer her advice, and I’d always know I wasn’t in it alone. Amy’s family is a different story. They’d probably go old school and ship her off to some boarding school for nine months. She’d come back without anyone knowing she’d had a baby, with their perfect image still intact. I can’t imagine talking to her mom about this so I get why Amy didn’t want to tell her.
Options. There are several. Teen mothers can always keep their babies. My body tightens with stress. The thought of having a baby at sixteen makes me want to throw up. There is no way in hell I could take care of a baby on my own. I don’t have a job, I have to go to school, and I’m just a little selfish. As I should be. I’m only a teenager. I don’t want that kind of responsibility. But then again, I guess if you think you’re responsible enough to have sex, you should be ready for the consequences. And when it comes to sex, those consequences last a lifetime.
Fuck. This is too much.
More options. Adoption. Abortion. The two words are so similar, yet they’re so far away from each other on the pregnancy option spectrum.
If Amy were to tell her parents, I’d guess they’d go with adoption. She has to know this. And like I said earlier, they’d send her away. And she doesn’t need that. She needs help. She needs someone to talk to, not for her family to abandon her. She’s shit out of luck either way. She didn’t tell them and she’s still alone.
Except for me. But how much can I really help?
Abortion? I just don’t see how she can do it. I don’t think I could. The pamphlet says every girl’s situation is different and they shouldn’t feel judged. I’m not judging Amy. I’m just saying it wouldn’t be my choice.
I can’t believe she can just walk in here without a parent permission slip or anything. No adults needed. No parental consent. It’s crazy. What if something goes wrong? My cell feels like it’s burning a hole through my hand. Nope. If Amy doesn’t want to tell her mom, I sure as hell am not going to make that call.
I read on to find out there are different kinds of abortions. She could’ve taken a pill. That doesn’t sound so bad, but since the nurse mentioned recovery, I don’t think she’s getting off that easy
. She must be too far along. Oh crap. The other two types are a little more involved. Okay, a lot more. I finish reading only to find myself even more sad, confused, and grossed out than I was before.
Damn. Why did I agree to this? I know, I should really stop whining about being here. I’m just creeped out. This is fucking crazy! I have about a million emotions flying around in my brain, and I’m not even the one who’s dealing with this. I need to pull myself together. I’m all Amy has right now, and for some insane reason, she chose me to help her through this mess. This may not be an ideal situation but it is what it is.
My phone buzzes with a text from Keesha.
Are u crazy!!! Ditching before AP Exams???
Shit. The test is just a few weeks away.
Not ditching. Had stuff to take care of. Call u l8r
I need to think of some “stuff” by tonight. It’s going to be a challenge keeping this from them. Not because I want to tell Amy’s secret, but because it’s hard to lie.
The door swings open and the sweet motherly woman in the pink scrubs is back. “Megan, you can come in now.”
I follow her to an exam room. This isn’t what I’d expected. It looks just like a regular room you’d have a regular doctor’s appointment in. Amy is sitting up on the exam table, fully clothed, her hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“I’ll be in to check on you in a few,” the nurse says, before closing the door on her way out.
Amy puts her hands up. “It’s done.” Her bottom lip quivers. I go to her and she hugs me. “Thank you for coming with me.”
“No problem.” She releases me and I sit on a stool. “How do you feel?”
“Just a little cramped. Like period cramps. Other than that, I’m okay. They gave me some medicine so I won’t get an infection or a fever. Once she comes back and takes my vitals, I can leave as long as nothing is wacky.”
“Leave? Already?” I should know this. I read the information. It just doesn’t seem right. She just had a baby vacuumed out of her uterus and they’re just gonna send her back to school. That’s nuts.
Double Time (Double Threat series) Page 18