Reluctantly, she moved her foot, just in time to puke again.
“Aw, damn,” he said, turning on the bath faucet and wetting a washcloth. He sat on the side of the tub and held the wet cloth against her neck.
“Looks like I’ll be taking care of you this week,” he said. “Come on, let’s get up.”
She wanted to say no, but she was so tired, she didn’t even care to. She let him lead her to his bed, let him lift her onto it, let him fluff her pillow and pull the covers up around her.
“I’m going to go make some tea,” he said, kissing her temple. “You rest.” After a long nap, she finally woke up.
“Hey, you,” he said. She turned over. He was sitting up in bed next to her, watching T.V.
“Hey,” she said.
“Feeling any better?” he asked. “How’s your stomach?”
She put her hands on her belly, and then her eyes shot wide open. It had been an awfully long time since dear old Aunt Flow had made an appearance.
And as she did the math in her head, she started to panic. For the past year, since she wasn’t really having sex, she’d been super lazy about taking the pill. Fuck. She’d been super lazy about taking the pill. Had she taken it every night this week? This month? She needed the pharmacy pronto.
“I’m feeling better,” she lied. “I need to run out and get a few things.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, pulling her back into bed. “Let me get them. Seriously, you should rest.”
“No, really. I’m fine. It was probably just the grease from those fries last night,” she said. “I’m going to grab some stuff from my apartment. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” she said, “you still need to get rest, too. You’ve got 300 middle schoolers expecting you next week!” She kissed him and then ducked out.
As she scoured the shelves in the drugstore, she cursed every company that made pregnancy tests. Why did there need to be a million different kinds? She just needed one damn stick to tell her if she was knocked up by her best friend who didn’t want kids in the first place. Oh boy, another wave of nausea. She shook her head, swallowing it back down, and eeny-meeny-miny-moed it. As she waited in line with the pregnancy test in hand, she prayed that no one she knew would walk in. Just to be safe, she grabbed a copy of Vogue and laid it over top of the box.
“Will that be all?” the cashier asked, in an obnoxious monotone voice.
“That’s it.”
“Do you want a bag?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll just take it, thanks,” she said. As she hurriedly made her way to her car, she fumbled through her forever messy bag for her keys.
“What is that?” she heard Knox say. She looked up, and quickly dropped the tests into her bag.
“What. . .what are you doing here?” she asked him.
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I’m here to get you some antacids. Now, it’s your turn.”
She swallowed hard. “I. . .I’m thinking I might be a little. . . late.”
“How much is ‘a little’?” he asked.
“Like, a week.”
His eyes grew wide. “I don’t, uh. . . aren’t you on the pill?”
“Yeah, I am, but I can’t remember if I. . . “
“You can’t remember? How could you not remember?” She leaned back for a moment.
“Are you kidding me? We had sex like twenty times in the last two weeks. You could have asked about protection then.” Now he leaned back.
“Well, what do you do now?” She noticed the “you.” Not the “we.”
“Now, I go take this,” she said, holding the box of tests up and getting into her car. He just stood there for a moment in the parking lot, looking completely lost. But then she sped off, back to her own apartment, literally leaving him in the dust.
“Mari?” she said over the phone.
“Hey, babe,” Mari said, breathless. She must have been on the elliptical. “What’s up?”
“Um, nothing. Listen, could you stay on the phone with me for three minutes?” At first, Mari laughed.
“Three minutes specifically? Sure,” she said. “Why three minutes?”
“Well, um, I’m taking a. . . test.” And then Mari was silent for a moment.
“Three minutes and counting,” was all she said back. For the remaining two minutes and thirty-two seconds, Mari distracted her with a story about this new drink she had made the night before.
“You use cranberry vodka, rum, Sprite, and, uh, something else, I can’t remember. Anyways, it tastes like juice, and oh my God, it’s amazing!” Mari said. Bria laughed, just so that Mari would think she was actually listening.
Finally her alarm went off.
“Mari?”
“Yeah, hon?”
“If this is positive. . .” she started to say, but stopped herself. Despite the fact that they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other for the past few weeks, she realized in this moment that she and Knox hadn’t once spoken about what they were, where things were going, you know, the usual talks couples have. If that’s even what they were.
And when they were younger, he never wanted to talk about the future. He was noncommittal about everything, from girls, to school, even to what he was doing the following weekend. And she realized now that she had no idea if that was any different. She felt the panic setting in. “If this is positive, I don’t know what will happen. I don’t even know what he wants. Jesus, I don’t even know if we are dating. Holy shit, am I just another dumb idiot who got in his bed? Oh my God, I am, aren’t I? Oh, my God!”
“Bria, calm down. Take a freakin’ chill pill,” Mari said, using her stern, get-shit-done tone. “Now, first things first, you’re a grown-ass woman. If this test is positive, you have a decision to make. And if I know you, that decision will result in a baby. And you’ll rock the mom thing. You’ll be a MILF if I’ve ever seen one. But you’ll be amazing at it. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. Second of all, I don’t know what Knox will do if it’s positive. And I don’t know what you guys are, or where you’ll be next week, let alone next year. But one thing I do know is that those feelings you felt, even the ones you hid at fifteen, those were real. And just because we were kids, that doesn’t make them mean any less. You’re not an idiot. If Knox just wanted to get you into bed, I have hunch that would have happened a long time ago. You two mean more to each other than that. It’s okay to be scared. But don’t ever regret feeling something, or acting on those feelings for the last few weeks. Not everyone gets that shot.”
God, Mari was a freaking genius.
“Okay, babe,” she said. “Look at it. I’m right here.”
Bria took a breath. Her hands were shaking as she picked the tiny pink stick up off of the bathroom counter and flipped it over.
THIRTY-THREE
Bria sat on the couch, perched up with a mug of decaf on her knee. Her chestnut locks were in messy bun on the top of her head, and Knox’s big sweatshirt swallowed her up. The television blared in front of her.
Why, oh why did they keep picking Blake over Adam? Aside from Adam’s raw, sexy rocker thing, he was just so damn talented. Come on, Larissa from Pennsylvania. Get your shit together.
Bria jumped when there was a knock at her door. She walked toward the door slowly, looking through the peephole.
There he stood, his hood up, head down at the ground. She opened the door.
“Hi,” he said. “Can I come in?”
She didn’t say anything; she just held the door open wider for him to come in.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I feel fine,” she said, sitting back down on the couch. He walked over toward her, slowly sitting down next to her.
“Bria, I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know if you’ve taken it yet or not, but I’m here now. And I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay.”
She looked up at him, fee
ling the tears welling behind her eyes. No, she couldn’t cry in front of him right now. Not about this. Not when he might be the source of her tears. He had come back. He had shown up, like an adult. She stopped him and held up the pink stick.
He looked at it, and his shoulders dropped.
“So, you’re not—”
“I’m not pregnant,” she said, putting both hands around her mug and taking another sip. “Don’t worry. No little Knox or Bria coming along.”
She saw him sink back into the couch, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. And even though he had let her down, all she wanted to do was hold him. Tell him it was going to be fine. That what she wanted didn’t matter. But the way his shoulders had dropped, the relief he so visibly felt―it did matter. And then she felt that pit of anxiety burning in her stomach again.
“If it had been positive. . .” she started to say, swirling her coffee around in her mug. Knox leaned forward, clasping his hands together between his knees. He sighed.
“If it had been positive, I guess I would have taken a second job, and probably sold my car for something more kid-friendly. And, I don’t know, I guess eventually one of us would have moved in with the other so we could save money. And eventually, maybe we’d get married?” She caught her breath as her eyes darted to his.
“How. . . how did you know I’d keep the baby?” she asked.
“Because it’s you. I know you. I know that this is your biggest dream,” he said, matter-of-factly. She blinked a few times, processing it all.
“And you would have. . .you would have done all that?” she asked.
“Of course I would. It’s you,” he said.
On one hand, she was taken aback by the fact that he was actually thinking about it. He was actually making grown-up plans, he had figured out his next steps, he was planning on taking responsibility. But on the other hand, he didn’t smile once. He wasn’t excited about it. He felt obligated. She and the baby that never was, they would have been an obligation for him. She sighed, looking him up and down.
Bria hated this feeling; she recognized it so fully: disappointment. Something she had never, ever felt toward Knox in all their years. Heartbreak, sure. Each time he walked away, or left without kissing her, or grabbed onto another girl. But never disappointment. She knew she had put him up on a pedestal so long ago, but she didn’t care. She liked him up there, because it meant he could never let her down. He could never break her heart. He could remain her perfectly sturdy Knox. And although she was pretty sure she’d never have a fire inside of her they way she did with him, she also realized something else.
“We really can’t do this, can we?” she finally said, staring down into her cup. Her heart was thudding with such force, she felt her body trembling. This was the part where he was going to tell her she was wrong. And that he wanted what she wanted. And that the rest didn’t matter because they had each other. He sat up, his eyes finding hers immediately.
“I don’t. . .I don’t know.”
Okay, never mind. Guess not.
“It’s okay, Knox.”
She surprised herself at how calm she stayed; how adult she sounded, despite the teenager inside of her that was throwing a fucking tantrum. But he popped up off the couch, clasping his hands behind his head.
“How. . .how can this be? I mean, it’s you. It’s us. I just don’t understand. These past few weeks were so, so good. But God, when I saw those tests.”
“I know, Knox. I know,” she said. “These few weeks, they were amazing. They were everything I’ve been lying to myself about wanting since I was an awkward teenager. But I think I know why they were so good.”
He looked at her, quizzically.
“They were good because life wasn’t happening,” she continued. “We were back in high school, doing all the things we never did, and saying all the things we never said. We didn’t have jobs, family, questions to answer, bills to pay. Futures to have. None of that. It was just us.”
He sighed again, looking down at the ground.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. “It’s like. . . it’s like we got a chance to have that time we never took when we were kids.”
She nodded.
“Yeah. And honestly, we’re lucky. Some people don’t ever get that chance. Or maybe, we’re not lucky, we’re just smart. Because a lot of people get that chance, but they never take it.”
A sad smile flashed across his face, disappearing almost instantly.
“But I still don’t know exactly what I want to do. I mean, before you got here, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to stay in Dalesville. You remember Craig Barrett? I ran into him in town a few weeks ago. And he was telling me about Teach for America. He’s out in Colorado right now, and he’s loving it. I was thinking of signing up, going out west for a while. I still don’t even know if I want to settle down, or get married, or have kids at all,” he said.
All she was feeling now was pure, sharp panic. She had never been so far away from him.
“I know,” she managed to whisper.
“And you still do.” He said it like a statement, but she could tell he was really asking.
“I know that, too. Sooner, rather than later, I want a family.”
It was true. She couldn’t bear the thought of being without Knox, but she also couldn’t stand the thought of putting off the life she wanted. She didn’t need to travel, she didn’t want to see the world anymore. She wanted to be here, in Dalesville. She wanted kids that could grow up down the street from their grandparents. She wanted them to pass a farm or two on their way to school. She wanted them to grow up helping their neighbors shovel the walk during a big snowstorm or playing tag down by the creek.
They were both quiet for a moment.
“Last year, after Drew and I split up, when I came to your house, I thought I was going to tell you then. Tell you how I felt about you. That’s why I came. And then when it didn’t happen, Mari, she said that maybe you were just a chapter in my life. And I just never got to finish reading you.”
This made him smile.
“A chapter, huh?”
She nodded.
“Well, I will re-read this chapter for the rest of my life,” he said, reaching his hands around her head and pulling her in for the most bittersweet kiss she’d ever tasted.
“This is it, for us, isn’t it?” she whispered between kisses, with a tear rolling down her cheek.
He answered her with another kiss, one that was hard, and intense, and soul-searching, and perfect. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and her legs around his waist.
He carried her toward the kitchen table, pushing off anything that was in their way. For a second, she almost laughed; this totally would have been something she would have made fun of in a movie.
She tore off his shirt, pulling him down on top of her as she kissed his neck.
He did the same, tearing off his sweatshirt that she was wearing, and the shirt that was underneath it. He clawed at her bra until it was off, kissing her chest over and over again.
He picked her up again, carrying her back to her bedroom, where he laid her down gently on the bed. He stopped to tear open a condom. And as they both lost whatever clothing remained, there was a single moment where she wanted to cry. She couldn’t believe this was it. This was the last time she’d see him naked. The last time she’d lust like this. The last time he’d make love to her. Because she knew now, that that was exactly what he was doing.
The sun crept in through her bedroom window, and she could feel it beating on her face. It cast a pinkish-orangish glow on her bedroom walls, and with the birds chirping out of her window, it was like she was inside of a flower. The sun was lighting up his face beautifully when she rolled over. He was so painfully perfect.
Then a car alarm blared in the distance. And she could hear the woman downstairs hollering at her kids. The pit in her stomach formed again, as real life snuck back in. He blinked a few times before turning to look
at her.
“Morning,” she said, smiling and running her fingers through his hair.
“Mornin’, baby cakes,” he said, kissing her wrist. She so badly wanted to climb back on top of him; pretend they hadn’t had the discussion they had the night before. But she knew she needed to rip the band-aid off and face reality.
“I guess I need to get my stuff from your place,” she said. He nodded, thoughtfully.
“Okay,” he said. “But not just yet. I just want to lay here. I just want you to be mine for a little while longer.”
And as she curled up next to him, she was sure she could physically feel her heart crumbling inside of her.
When they got back to his house, she was surprised to see how much of her shit had actually accumulated around his house over just a few weeks. Since the operation, they’d practically been living together, and it showed.
He bent over to pick up a pair of her shoes and handed them to her, helping her open her huge duffle bag.
“Oh, wait,” she said, sliding his gray hoodie off over her head and handing it back to him. “Don’t forget this.”
“That’s yours,” he said. “Keep it.”
She smiled, pulling the hoodie into her and clutching it.
“B?”
“Yeah?”
“Will I still hear from you?”
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly as the tears welled up a little. She knew that if she kept in touch with him, that each time they spoke, it would kill her a little bit. She felt a fleeting moment of panic as she stared at him. She remembered her favorite line from Dirty Dancing, the one that crushed her to her core every damn time she watched it. The one where Baby tells Johnny that the thing that scares her the most is never feeling about anyone else the way she feels about him. Yeah, that soul-crushing, heart-tearing line.
She was Baby. And she was about to lose her Johnny. And she swallowed, hard, facing the painful fact that she just might never feel quite like this, ever again.
“Yeah,” she said, dropping her things. She walked toward him and put her arms around his wide back. “You can’t get rid of me that easy.”
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