by Vivian Gray
Her mind raced to the idea of what was going to happen to school if she was. Who would take care of the baby so she could finish? If Jet was pissed off, would he still help her with school? Would he at least give her money to help with the baby?
She was close to hyperventilating with panic when Trisha gave her a hug and then pushed her in the direction of the bathroom. It helped that she really needed to pee.
She did what she needed to for the test; she’d barely set it on the counter before the second line appeared. Well. That was that.
Bree choked back the fresh set of tears that threatened to appear. She finished up in the bathroom and walked out; it wasn’t even worth bringing the test. She just nodded. Trisha watched her carefully, and it was only when Bree stepped forward that Trisha pulled her in for a hug.
“What do I do now?”
Trisha took a deep breath, and Bree made herself mirror it. “You go and tell Jet.”
***
Jet was down at the club, in his booth, paperwork spread out in front of him. He looked up when Bree got close, and a big smile spread across his face.
“Hey, girl,” he said, reaching a hand out and pulling her in for a kiss.
Bree accepted it and did her best to kiss him back, but it felt off. How could she kiss him all the way when she had no idea what he was going to think of her in five minutes?
Jet broke the kiss after a long moment and gave her a long look, confusion evident in his expression. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Bree lied. Well, not exactly. She was fine, except that she was pretty sure her heart was going to snap her sternum with its pounding. “I just need to talk to you about something.”
She watched Jet go absolutely still, a wall coming down between him and that smile. “What’s up?” Even his voice was different. Not mean or rude, just... flatter, like he was hiding something.
It was suddenly painfully obvious how very much he’d opened up to her over the last few weeks. She didn’t want to lose that and was suddenly so overwhelmed by how much she wanted to keep the relationship developing between them that it was hard to catch her breath.
She’d been debating what to say all morning. With Trisha, she’d gone over a dozen different ways to explain why she hadn’t come to him immediately, but all her lines just flew out of the window.
“I’m pregnant,” she said, with no preamble.
She didn’t know quite what she expected. Jet rocked back visibly as if the news had been a punch to his gut. His nostrils flared, and his eyes went wide. Bree felt fear rush all the way down her spine. He was going to start screaming, all the horrible names were going to come out, all the things her mother had sworn would be said about an easy girl were going to be said—
“Oh my God, babe.” His mouth spread into a smile before he covered it for a moment, then looked up at her again. His eyes were full and happy as he pulled her into his lap. “This is real?”
“Yes,” Bree replied, more than a little bit shocked. At best, she’d hoped that he would just not be angry, not do something like throw her out of the clubhouse and demand back the money she’d already paid for tuition and loans that he’d given her. But he looked happy. Maybe even excited.
He laughed hard and hugged her close, then winced and let go of her, reaching down to pat her belly.
“It’s okay,” Bree said, giggling. “Trisha’s loaning me some books she picked up from her sister. We’re not going to hurt it like that.” Her cheeks flushed hot. “Or... in other ways.”
His eyebrows went up, and there was heat all through his expression now. “Is that so?” But then she could see him visibly pulling back, collecting himself. “So you’re going to keep it?”
Everything had pulled back to some neutral middle ground, and that curl of fear ran through her stomach again. She had to swallow hard to keep from just getting up and leaving. If he were going to toss her out, then she’d rather just go on her own.
But he’s not trying to toss you out. He’s asking you a question, and you can answer it.
“I want to keep it,” Bree said, very carefully, and then made herself say the second part. “But I don’t want to be a single mom. My parents had enough trouble, and they stayed together all my life. I don’t want to do that alone. I want to finish school and get a good job, and I want my kids to grow up feeling safe.”
He nodded. “That makes a lot of sense.” He was staring off into space for a little bit, then nodded again. “I want to be there. I feel like an asshole – telling you I’m going to take care of you, if you want me to. But... we’re good together, Bree. We fit. And if we’re having a kid together – Well, no matter what happens between us, I want to be there for the kid. And for you.”
Bree felt something deep inside of her untwist, something she hadn’t even realized she was holding tight. “Okay. Okay. That’s... Yes, please.”
He pulled her tight against him, laughing. Bree leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Across the club, she saw Cat. Bree was completely shocked by the expression on her friend’s face. Cat looked like she was one hiss away from a snarl. Her arms were crossed, her hip popped, and her face was absolutely twisted in disgust. That relaxed place tightened up again. That wasn’t how friends looked at each other.
Cat spun on her heel and stomped out of the room. Bree watched her go, wondering if Cat had even noticed that Bree was looking in her direction, or if the whole thing had just happened in her head. What had Cat been doing at the club at this time of the afternoon anyway? None of the guys Cat was trying to hang on showed up for hours yet. Could she have been looking for Bree?
Cat hadn’t come looking for her in all the years they’d been friends. What was happening now? It didn’t make sense.
Chapter Eight
A month later, Bree sat in class, trying not to panic. It had been a hard month. She’d been sick enough with the pregnancy, but then she’d gotten a stomach bug, and she’d been flat on her back for days. Even when she could move without throwing up, her head was foggy for another week as she tried to get her strength back. She’d barely gone to class, and she definitely hadn’t kept up on the reading. She’d always been a smart student; she’d figured that as soon as she was back on her feet, she’d be able to catch up without a problem.
A week after, she’d been able to read without feeling like she was going to throw up again, but was somehow further behind than she had been before. There was a test next class that she was almost certainly going to fail, and she’d barely started the paper that was due in a week. Her heart was pounding hard against her ribcage, and she had absolutely no idea what to do next.
Bree took as many notes as she could, even though none of the words made any sense to her at all. She’d always been better at the practical courses than her theoretical economics ones, but this was absurd. After the lecture concluded, she waited until most of the students filtered out, and then she went down to the podium before the professor could leave.
“Ms. Bell,” Dr. Dalton said before she could say anything. “Nice to see you joining the class again.” The professor continued gathering up her notes, not really looking at Bree directly.
“I’m sorry about that,” Bree said. “I got really sick, and I tried to keep up with the notes, but—”
Dr. Dalton looked directly at Bree’s midsection. She wasn’t showing much, but she was so short and had such a small torso that the bump had become obvious a lot earlier than she’d expected. “I’m sure you got sick,” she said. Her voice was dry, but not exactly unkind. “But that’s no excuse for not keeping up with your work. Life gets rough, Ms. Bell, and the world expects us to keep up anyway. Curse of capitalism.”
“I – Yes, I do understand that, and I’m not trying to – to get extensions I don’t deserve or something. I just need to find a study group. Do you have a list, or…?”
Dr. Dalton sighed. “Come with me, Ms. Bell.”
Bree followed. It was surprising that the professor soun
ded as frustrated as she did by the request; didn’t most professors keep a running list of study groups, or at least TAs, that she could hand out, or even email? But Bree stayed close by as the professor wove through the halls of the university, leading Bree back to her office. Dr. Dalton didn’t have office hours until three hours from now; this was weird.
“Sit,” Dr. Dalton said, gesturing at a chair across from her desk.
Bree sat, and the older woman took her own seat. Bree tried to quell her jangling nerves. What could possibly be happening? Was she about to get a lecture on unwed mothers or something? Sure, she was showing, but she was also in that space where she looked a little extra chubby, not so much pregnant. So what was happening?
“I’m sorry for making you wait,” Dr. Dalton said. “Someone will be joining us in just a moment.”
Who in the world? And then the door to Dr. Dalton’s office opened, and Cat stepped in. Bree froze. Her friend – maybe not her friend anymore – wore a look that Bree had never seen before. Haughty and cold. Her hair was perfectly straightened, her makeup was impeccable, and she looked like she’d just stepped off a fashionista’s Instagram.
Wait, Bree had seen Cat look like this before. Just never pointed at Bree. Cat looked like she was about to destroy someone.
Me. She’s about to destroy me. But how?
Cat sat down next to Bree, her gaze locked forward, just over Dr. Dalton’s left shoulder. “Hello, professor,” she said. She didn’t acknowledge Bree at all.
Bree’s hands went cold, and sweat popped out under her arms.
“Ladies,” the professor said, “accusations have been made that must be addressed. I am doing you both the courtesy of discussing this here before deciding if what I have been told must be brought to the dean for a formal investigation. This is a courtesy few of my students would have earned, Ms. Bell. That is the only leniency you will get from me in this matter.”
“O... kay,” Bree said, letting her confusion show. “But I don’t know what’s going on.”
Cat made a smug little sound, and Bree had an overwhelming desire to jab the other girl with an elbow. What the hell had crawled up Cat’s ass and died? Bree had been paying her share of all the bills when she came by the apartment or slept there, she kept things clean – much cleaner than Cat had been, if Bree was entirely honest – and she’d done her best to keep in touch.
She’d barely seen Cat at all and certainly hadn’t had the kind of conversation where she’d share her pregnancy with her – former – friend. But Cat had been there that day with Jet, and when Bree had texted her to try and find out what was up and what she’d heard, Cat had stonewalled her, hard.
Dr. Dalton glanced between the two of them. “Ms. Bell, there have been certain accusations made against you by Ms. Thompson. Namely, that you have been spending time with the kind of people that our school works very hard not to be associated with.”
Bree felt that cold fear in her stomach crystallize. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We can’t control everything our students do, and God knows that your average tech school doesn’t bother with things like honor codes. We have rules, but we’re not – pedantic about them. But if you’re selling drugs—”
“Excuse me?”
“Or participating in other illegal activities in order to – as a form of employment…”
And then it all became very clear. She could even hear how Cat would have explained it.
“Professor, I know why Bree hasn’t been in class. I’m so worried about her. I know how she got mixed-up with these hooligans.” Would Cat say hooligans? Probably, and with her wet lined eyes as big and wide as she could get them. “She tried to get me to go along with her to that – to that debauchery, but, of course, I didn’t do that, and now I don’t know what they’ll get her doing next.”
That bitch.
“Excuse me,” Bree said, her voice colder than it had been before. Dr. Dalton stopped and looked at her. “I see what you’re getting at. I want to be painfully clear that these accusations are false. I haven’t done anything illegal, and I think that Ms. Thompson should be careful about what she starts accusing other people of. Glass houses and all that.”
All the foundation in the world couldn’t cover the red that flooded to Cat’s cheeks. Anger, probably; she always went red when she was angry, and she hated it. Bree had spent a lot of time trying to keep Cat from being angry; now, pissing her off was all she could think of.
“I see,” Dr. Dalton said, glancing between the two of them. “Well. There really wasn’t going to be much of anything to do without direct evidence anyway. I wanted to make sure everything was alright though. Ms. Bell, do be aware that you’re going to need to do some hard work to make sure you don’t have to repeat my class next semester. I know how tightly you’re managing your GPA. I’ll email you the list of TAs and study groups, and you can find the right one for you. In light of your…” She glanced down again. “… extenuating circumstances, if you need to retake this week’s test next week, that will happen.”
“And Ms. Thompson,” Dr. Dalton said, shifting the focus of her gaze. “I need you to think more carefully before you accuse your classmates of serious things.”
“That’s just the end of it?” Cat’s perfect facade cracked; Bree felt a little twist of mean laughter at the rage that Cat was barely containing. “She just gets to walk out of here, with no consequences? She’s ruining everything for me, and she just gets away with it?”
“What am I possibly ruining for you?” Bree tried not to laugh. “You talked me into all of this crap, and for once in my stupid life I got lucky and found someone I’m enjoying spending time with. Why are you being such a bitch about it?”
“Because he was supposed to be mine,” Cat roared out, and then stomped out of the room.
The silence in the office was deafening. After a long moment, Dr. Dalton started to shuffle some paperwork on her desk.
“If you want my advice,” she said, to no one in particular, “that girl isn’t doing you any favors. If you have learned anything today, I would like it to be not just that she isn’t your friend now, but that she hasn’t ever been your friend. She has been leapfrogging over you as long as I’ve had you both in my classes. And you’re too smart for that. See it, don’t forget it, and take care of yourself.”
Dr. Dalton flipped open her laptop and started making notes on a document, the conversation clearly over. It took Bree a moment to collect herself and stand up. Her head was spinning, and she wasn’t entirely sure what she should do next.
The original plan had been to go back to the apartment, freshen up, then head back out to the clubhouse. She’d been spending even more time there than she had before, especially since word of the pregnancy had started to spread. She hadn’t really meant to tell people, but word got around. The War Choppers really were a sort of family. In a lot of ways, they were more like a family than her own parents had been.
She hadn’t gotten in touch with them in weeks, and she certainly hadn’t bothered to tell them that she was pregnant. Just imagining how her mother would react was more than enough to keep the news to herself. At some point, she would probably find out, or Bree would need to tell her – this was the age of social media, after all – but at the same time, Bree found herself wondering why she should bother.
She didn’t have a contentious relationship with her family, but she also didn’t have any really distinct relationship with them either. If they knew where she was spending her time, she was fairly sure that they – her mother in particular – would wash their hands of her. So why not just save them the trouble and do it for them?
She sighed and tried to focus. She needed to decide what to do right now. The idea of going back to the apartment was awful. There were good odds that Cat would be there, waiting. Waiting to either leap at Bree and start screaming, or cold-shoulder her, assuming Bree would fall to her knees apologizing for what she’d done wrong.
The few ti
mes she’d managed to piss Cat off before, that was exactly how it had gone. And maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was just being around people who were treating her like a person who had value, but she had no real interest in going through all of that again. Ever.
She didn’t want to go back to her apartment, but she needed to go somewhere. She took a deep breath and pulled out her phone. She wasn’t entirely sure why doing this was so scary; maybe because it felt a step too close to being rescued.
“Hey,” she said, as soon as Jet answered his phone. “My day sucks. Is there any way you could come out here and pick me up?”
Chapter Nine
Jet couldn’t deny the little burst of happiness that he felt after he hung up the phone. Bree was so goddamned self-sufficient, and he tried to let that be. It wasn’t his place to tell her how to be, how to act in the world. But getting to play the White Knight; that felt pretty good. He’d told Bree he’d be there in half an hour, which gave him about ten minutes to wrap up the conversation he was having with Brass.