by Nora Cobb
Troy looks at me and sighs. “Let’s go for a drive.”
Vicki’s eyebrows lift, but her gaze remains on her phone. There’s no other reaction from her as we leave through the door into the garage. We don’t speak, and my paranoia kicks in. I wonder if she was on the phone with Arielle. I didn’t mention my secret, and I remind myself that I can never speak it unless I’m certain of who’s around. A rack of keys hangs on the wall of the garage, and Troy grabs the keys to his dad’s silver Porsche. Troy usually drives a Rover.
“Let’s have fun.” He swirls the key ring on his index finger.
I sigh, knowing it won’t be fun once I tell him my news.
***
I let down the window and drape my hand against the side of the car. Inhaling the breeze coming in, I feel refreshingly cool, as the day has heated up. But it’s also a challenge to keep my tummy steady as Troy tests the quickness of the engine around a curb.
“What’s on your mind?” he says, his hand resting lightly on my knee.
I can’t say it. He gave me the perfect opening, but my tongue is thick in my dry mouth. Jacob reacted so badly when I blurted out that I had slept with Troy. How can I approach this topic with more tact? Maybe I should phrase it like a joke. Hey, guy, your first time was a home run. You knocked it out of the ballpark. That sounds lame.
“Natalie?” His voice has a note of worry as his hand grips my knee.
“Jacob and Lucas asked me to prom.” The words rush out of my mouth before I can say anything else. Sighing, I chicken out.
“I was going to ask you at the party,” he replies flatly, “but you disappeared.”
He must have guessed who I was with when I disappeared. Jacob treated my bedroom as if it were his own. I know the captains talk about me in private, and they have an agreement. We all have an agreement, but how strong is it? They all compete, not just in sports, but in everything. Faster car, higher grades, bigger trust fund. Are they competing for me? Which one will have me to himself?
I sigh. After they know my secret, they’ll be competing to see who can dump me the fastest. I have to tell Troy. It’s his baby too. I will myself as hard as I can. I open my mouth, but my lips stick together. My mouth is parched like gritty sandpaper.
“Lucas called,” I reply, “and well, you know the rest.”
“You spent the day with him on his boat, and he asked you to prom.”
“Yes,” My voice cracks. A chill causes me to rub my hands together.
Troy raises the passenger window from his armrest.
Troy pulls off the main road, and I’m not quite sure where we are except that we’re at a different entrance to the reservation. The wooded area by Montlake is somewhat deserted, and trespassing is discouraged in some areas. The line of thick trees is a perfect place to hide, especially now that the leaves have created a dense canopy hiding parked cars from the main road. But this entrance is family-friendly with brick out-buildings for families to picnic, and a lake with paddleboats to rent and ride on the lake. I watch as a mother and her child hurry toward the small playground off the main path. Her child screams with delight as he grabs the bar on the jungle gym and swings wildly before his mother catches him.
My teeth bite my lip hard. I have to say it now.
“Natalie,” Troy turns toward me. “Will you go to prom with me?”
I nod, happy, and relieved. “Yes, I want to go to prom with you.”
Troy hugs me, and my body relaxes into him. He always smells good, and he’s so warm. His muscles are hard and firm against me, and my body flows into him. Just holding him comforts me as tears prick my eyes. I hold onto him tighter, as if I’ll sink down into misery if I let go.
“Are you jealous?” I ask quietly. “That they asked me first?”
“No.” He pulls back and frowns at the expression on my face. “Why would I be? Tampa was special for me … for us. I know how I feel about you, Natalie, and how you feel for me.”
A sharp pain shoots through my forehead, and the tension is unbearable. A tear escapes down my cheek. I have to tell him now.
“Nat?”
“I missed my period.”
I gulp as if I’ve just broken the surface of the lake, and I’m gasping for air. Troy is quiet, and what I’ve just told him is working through his head.
“Okay,” he replies calmly. “Are you sure?”
I shake my head. “But we didn’t use a condom.”
Troy averts his gaze out the car window, and I feel all alone. Time halts inside the small interior of the car, and it feels too tight, too cramped. It’s claustrophobic. I’m scared Troy will push me away, and that he’ll start hating me again for what we both did. He’ll treat me worse than before, when he only detested me. I blame myself a hundred times in a second for being so foolish in Tampa, for letting my heart think and not my head.
His light blue eyes finally look at me, and I see kindness in them. Troy pulls me close again, and I rest my forehead on his shoulder. I can barely breathe as I cry.
“Natalie, it will be okay.” He strokes my hair and holds me tight. “We’ll face it together, but you need to be certain.”
“I’m scared. I really am.”
“Promise me you won’t do anything without talking to me first,” His hard eyes stop my tears. “Because I’ll make sure that it’s okay. Whatever you want to do, that’s what I want too.”
“You’re okay with this?” I ask softly.
“It’s sooner than I had planned,” he replies steadily. “Yeah.” He nods his head, as if the idea appeals to him. “Yeah, I am, because it’s with you.”
Misery stops trying to drag me under. It loses its hold on me, and my fear takes a step back while I hold onto Troy. It’s a lot to ask, but I’ll change my life around to suit his. Besides, I can’t swim with the dolphins with a baby carriage waiting onshore. I close my eyes and take in his warmth; nothing can touch me now, except for one person.
“What about your mother?” I ask.
He shrugs, and runs a hand through his hair, pulling it so tight his hairline turns red then white.
“Your mother is going to have a fit,” I moan listlessly. “What will she say when she finds out that I’m pregnant with her first grandchild?”
***
I don’t go back into Troy’s house when we return. I jump into my Audi and peel out of the driveway as if Maya Saunders were chasing me with a pitchfork off her property. Once I’m safely home, I check on Uncle Phil, and he’s sleeping on the couch, his head resting on his arm and a throw tangled around his legs. Sleep is an escape from what the head taunts us with cruelly if we stay awake. I just want to sleep too, so I lie down on the other sectional. His lean body is stretched along one angle and mine along the other. Head to head, I reach over and gently touch his hand, which is stretched out. I’m sure that he’s asleep, but I want to hold onto him. I need the comfort of knowing that he’s here for me. Uncle Phil needs me as much as I need him. I’m here for him.
His eyes are shut, but Uncle Phil must sense that I’m near. His fingers curl around my hand. He’s hurting, and I’ll do whatever I can for my uncle. Thinking about Uncle Phil gives me a new purpose, but unfortunately, my problems ease back into my mind.
I have to tell Jacob and Lucas. I made Troy swear he wouldn’t tell them first. He promised he won’t, and I believed Troy because of the somber expression on his face. There was a time when Troy would have bragged to the whole student body, starting with his team. He would have taken pleasure in having me and then disgraced me, for kicks, but not anymore.
Jacob was so upset when I told him about Tampa, and Lucas and I have only just made up. How will they feel when they learn I’m carrying Troy’s baby? I take a deep breath. I’m not sure what I was thinking that night when I made love to Troy. But I feel no regret for what we did. We just should have used a condom. I place my hand on my belly and feel the softness there. It’s flat, but I imagine a baby deep inside of me growing. I wonder if it will h
ave my brown eyes or Troy’s blue eyes. I picture a baby with blonde hair laughing in my arms as I doze off.
An hour later, I wake up alone on the couch. Uncle Phil is gone, and I listen for him but don’t hear any sounds in the house. My hand touches my stomach. I want a baby, but I don’t want one now. I have to tell Jacob and Lucas, but I’ll tell Jacob first. He can handle it better than Lucas.
CHAPTER 7
NATALIE
Monday after school, Jacob holds my hand as we walk into the diner, and we head directly to our favorite booth. MaryAnn, the waitress, walks over, smiling, carrying two menus. I rarely come in with anyone but Beth and Jacob. And MaryAnn has pretty much guessed that Jacob and I are dating.
She points a pencil at Jacob. “Burger deluxe with cheese. With bacon today?”
“Nope.” He pats his flat stomach. “Football is over, so I got to watch the calories. But I’ll have a vanilla shake.”
MaryAnn gives Jacob a dubious look, not entirely convinced with his reasoning. She looks over at me. “Chicken sandwich,” she asks. “Are you going to eat the roll today?”
“Okay. And an iced tea.”
“I’ll bring an extra plate of fries.” She grabs our menus and leaves.
“What’s wrong?” Jacob asks me.
I stare as if I’m caught. “Why do you think something is wrong?”
“You look like there’s something on your mind.”
“There’s always something on my mind lately.” I rub my fingernail against the edge of the table. “But I’m okay as long as I’m with you.”
He frowns, not buying it today. I’m not telling him until we’re alone. I wait patiently for our food to come, and MaryAnn leaves the bill on the table.
But Jacob pushes his plate away, the food untouched.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I ask.
“I’m worried,” he says. “Tell me why you look so miserable. Who do I need to beat up?”
I shake my head. “I have to tell you something, and I don’t know how.”
He leans his elbows onto the table and looks down, bracing himself. “Just blurt it out.”
“But last time?”
He doesn’t look up. “Just blurt it out.”
I take a deep breath. “I missed my period. Troy and I didn’t use a condom, and I started the pill after Florida.”
Jacob runs his hand through his hair. “Does Lucas know?”
I push my plate away. The smell of food is making my stomach churn. “I didn’t want to tell Lucas just yet after everything that has happened.”
Jacob frowns hard. “What exactly do you mean?”
I look at him, surprised. “After everything with Arielle. It might hurt him,” I explain, “I only told you first because I knew you could handle it. You can handle things like this.”
“You don’t think it could also upset me?” he asks.
I fidget toward the end of the bench. “Are you angry again?”
He scoffs. “I’m not sure if this is anger.” He holds up his hands and unclenches them. “I think I’m feeling resentful. Have you ever considered that maybe I’m not as tough as the image you have of me?”
That has never crossed my mind. Jacob is the strong one and steady, built like a bull, and quick to throw a punch. I’ve never thought of him as not being able to handle a heavy burden.
“I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly. “You are going through a lot. And you’re going through it by yourself.”
“It’s okay.” His tone is dismissive. “Eat up. It’s getting cold, and MaryAnn keeps looking over here.”
I take a fry, thinking it will be easier to swallow than a bite of my sandwich. Jacob drinks his shake while staring at the salt and pepper shakers, and I wonder if he’s lost his appetite, too.
I toss the other half of my fry onto my plate. “How would you feel if I had Troy’s baby?”
“I love you,” he says, averting his eyes, “and I’d also love the baby. It doesn’t matter that it’s Troy’s, because it would be yours and who the father is wouldn’t matter.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly.
Jacob finally looks at me and reaches for my hand. I hold onto him tightly.
“I have to admit,” he says, “that I had hoped this would happen later, but we’ll get through it. We’ll be fine.”
Inhaling, I get up and hurry to the bathroom to cry in private. I’m touched by what Jacob said, despite his disappointment. He’s always been my rock. The one that’s down to earth and I can cling to. He was my first true love.
I return to the booth, and our food is packed up to go.
“I told MaryAnn that I asked you to prom, and you cried.” He smirks. “I told her you were relieved because you’d thought you would have to go with your uncle ’cause you couldn’t get a date.”
I punch his arm. “You’re a brat, and I love you.”
MaryAnn waves as we walk out, arm in arm.
“Let’s go talk to my mom, Natalie. Because we all need to know the truth.”
***
I have rarely been inside Jacob’s house since homecoming. And I never look toward the dining room when I walk in. I can still picture them all sitting there, taking pleasure in my public humiliation. My panties in a box being shown to a crowd of kids assembled to shame me. It’s a painful reminder of how I was so desperate to be loved by anybody.
After multiple reassurances, Jacob drives me to his parents’ house, and it occurs to me that I never asked about his living arrangements. His mother insists that he will remain in the house until graduation, but then what? Jacob opens the front door, and there’s his father glaring at us in the hallway.
The resemblance between Thomas Fleming and son startles me. But the anger that flashes in Jacob is always present in his father. His eyes narrow on me, and then, on Jacob. His mouth twitches into an angry line, and he looks as if he can’t decide who to yell at first.
“What are you doing here?” he demands.
I almost answer until I realize that he’s speaking to Jacob. Self-preservation kicks in, and I’m embarrassed to admit that I step behind Jacob’s tall frame to hide.
“I live here, for now,” replies Jacob, “and we’re here to talk to Mom.”
Jacob doesn’t back down. In fact, he straightens his back to his full height and crosses his arms, completely blocking me from his father’s view. I place a hand on Jacob’s back to steady myself, but in a few more minutes, I’ll be running for the door.
“I want you, and that girl, out of my house,” his father rages. “Neither one of you are welcome here.” His father shakes his head. “You’ve really taken a slide down the ladder, and every time I see you, Jacob, you’ve slid a little more.”
The insult is definitely directed at me. But I don’t care. Mr. Fleming can’t compete with the kids at Montlake. They could reduce him to tears with their bombardment of slurs and insults. This man is a lightweight, but he’s also Jacob’s father. So, it has to hurt Jacob, and I want to leave, for Jacob’s sake, not mine.
“I like it better when you ignore me,” replies Jacob, sneering. “So, why don’t you go about your business, old man.”
His father points an angry finger. “My business is your business, but you seem to have forgotten that.”
“I don’t want to make money being an asshole and banging prostitutes.”
Mr. Fleming steps toward Jacob, but Jacob stands firm. He isn’t intimidated by the older man’s viciousness. He doesn’t even flinch when his father raises his fist to Jacob’s face.
“Thomas, stop it.”
We freeze and look to the top of the double staircase. Hannah Fleming descends the stairs, taking each step in her own sweet time. She won’t be rushed. Mrs. Fleming is dressed in a fitted navy dress and pearls, as if she’s about to go out. She doesn’t chase after artifice with heavy makeup and hair dye. But she takes pride in caring for her appearance. I can see the red soles of her Christian Louboutins as she pauses calmly on the bottom st
ep.
Hannah walks over to her husband, and places her hand over his fist, pulling it down and away from Jacob’s face. She is the velvet glove over the iron fist.
“Thomas, I thought you were going out?” she says to Mr. Fleming.
“So, you have him and that girl sneak in here behind my back.”
“I remember two names on the deed to this house, not one.”
“Hannah,” Mr. Fleming spits out his words. “I am the head of this household.”
She eyes him with disgust. “And how many other households are you the head of?”