by Layla Wilde
The air was hot and heavy, and lights shone from every corner. The foundation of the old brick building shook from the impressive sound system. In the kitchen, people took body shots as someone was lifted up to do a keg stand. I grinned, leaning against the doorframe, watching them, beer in hand. I sipped it occasionally, feeling its coolness trickle down my throat. I wasn’t a heavy drinker, but I didn’t mind the occasional cold beer.
“What are you doing just standing here, hottie?” A bombshell blonde walked up to me, a promiscuous smile on her face. “You aren’t here alone, are you?”
I remembered Jesse. I looked around quickly, but he was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had left. I shrugged. “I guess I am.”
“Aww, why don’t you come dance with me?” She winked, grabbing my hand. Her fingers were long and bony with a flaky texture to them like she didn’t know about the existence of moisturizer. Still, she had a killer body with her wide hips, narrow waist, and a breathtaking rack. Her pin-straight, platinum-blonde hair reached her waist and swayed from side to side as she guided me through the house toward the living room, where a makeshift dance floor had been made.
I hesitated to follow her into the mosh pit of people, thinking about Victoria. What would she say if she saw me right now? I felt guilty, but when she tugged me forward, looking back over her shoulder with her smoldering eyes, I simply couldn’t resist. A little dancing never hurt anyone…
So with the music blasting through my body, I lost control on the dance floor. Before I knew it, I had almost ten beers in my system. My mind felt cloudy and my motions were sluggish, but I felt great. I couldn’t stop grinning, and I was having the time of my life as my body rubbed against everyone around me. A couple of times, there was a bright flash as someone took a picture, screaming “Selfie!” The blonde never left my side. At one point, she took out her phone, holding it above her head. I smiled obscenely at it, sticking out my tongue and leaning over her shoulder.
She pocketed her phone and gave me a naughty look. “Why don’t we take this party upstairs?” she asked, leaning forward and whispering into my ear. She teetered on her high heels and giggled, stumbling into my arms. I had to do everything in my power to keep myself upright, laughing with her.
“Whoa, that was clumsy of you!” I said drunkenly. She laughed again and grabbed my arm.
“You’re so funny.” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “But seriously, let’s go upstairs.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me through the mass of people. Somehow, we managed to emerge on the other side. The kitchen crowd had thinned out, and all that remained were some of the heavier drinkers, taking the bottle and pressing it up to their lips.
The blonde headed for the stairs. “C’mon!” she urged as she saw me stalling.
I couldn’t do this. If I went upstairs with this girl, it would mean one thing. I shook my head, running my fingers through my sweat-soaked hair so I could look at her clearly even though my vision was blurred. “I can’t. I have a girlfriend,” I said confidently. It felt good to know that even in my intoxicated state, I wanted to remain faithful to Victoria. I grinned, flashing her a smile.
She whimpered, giving me a pout. “Oh, she doesn’t have to know. It’ll be fun, I promise. We don’t even have to do anything serious!” she pleaded, grabbing both of my hands and pulling me closer. Our lips nearly touched, but again, I just shook my head.
“I can’t. I love her, and I’d never do anything to hurt her.” I surprised myself by how easily I said it. Maybe it was true that drunk words were sober thoughts.
Victoria
The realization of my pregnancy hung over me all day. I didn’t quite know how to process it. Should I be happy I was going to be a mother? Or should I feel like my life was about to take a turn for the worse? I spent most of the day pacing my room, thinking of the best course of action. I kept picking up my phone and then putting it down.
No, I couldn’t call Hunter just yet. What if he were in class? What if he didn’t want to be a father? My worries got the best of me before I finally plopped down on bed and covered my head with the pillow. Why did we have to be so careless in the moving truck? If only I had been more diligent and taken my birth control that day, none of this would be happening...
Eventually, I fell asleep. Quickly, I was drawn into the world of nightmares. I was in a women’s shelter, surrounded by the other single mothers who had ended up living on the street with their children. I could feel a bundle of blankets in my arms that I quickly recognized as my baby. I didn’t even bother to look down at it. I stared into the vacant eyes of the other women, most of them looking like zombies. Would I turn out like that?
An older woman with a young girl holding her hand sat by my side. I smiled at the little girl, who held onto a teddy bear for dear life. Her long brown hair was ragged and thin, as if she hadn’t seen a proper shower in a long time. I reached into my bag to give her something when I realized it was empty. The woman looked at me and gave me an almost toothless smile. I shuddered and crept back.
No, I couldn’t be stuck here. I had to get out of this place before it was too late. I couldn’t let myself become this woman. I got up and clutched my child to my chest, frantically looking around for an exit, but the room was circular and there were no doors to be found.
I tried to ask for help, but none of them seemed to hear me. They just shuffled from place to place, dragging their children behind them, looking like the life had been sucked right out of them. My fear grew. I searched every inch of the shelter, but there was no exit.
I woke up with a gasp, sitting up straight in my bed. My heart raced, and I looked around at my surroundings, glad I was still in my dorm room. My pulse was erratic, and I nearly toppled over as I got out of bed and made my way toward the desk. I reached for my phone. I had to tell Hunter. I couldn’t be one of those single mothers…
I dialed his number with trembling fingers, pacing the room like a madwoman. The phone was firmly pressed against my ear, the sound of ringing nearly deafening. “Come on… pick up…” I whispered to myself. I hadn’t bothered to check the time. All I wanted was to hear Hunter’s voice. To hear him tell me everything would be okay. But he didn’t answer.
Frustrated, I tossed the phone onto my bed, watching it bounce before settling into the covers. Why wasn’t he answering his phone? I tried to think of a reason, running through a long list of possibilities in my mind.
Trying to get my mind off the situation, I flopped on my bed, picking up my phone again. I sighed, holding it above my head as I swept idly through Facebook, seeing posts made by high school friends I no longer talked to. There were a few news-related posts I skimmed through.
As I skimmed, I found a picture of Hunter with another woman. She had a tight-skinned face and a sharp nose. Her shirt was low cut, and her unnaturally-colored hair flowed down to her waist. Hunter stood behind her, his arm around her waist and his head on her shoulder. What was he doing with her?
My whole body froze. I stared at the picture, blinking quickly as if it would disappear if I stared at it hard enough. Maybe he didn’t want me anymore. Panic flooded my mind. Was that why he had ignored me for almost a week? I shuddered to think of him with this woman. I felt sick to my stomach. This couldn’t be happening.
Possessed with a need for answers, I dialed him again and again but still there was no answer. All I heard was the automated female voice, followed by a long dial tone, asking me to leave a message. I lay there, contemplating saying something, but I would always hang up. What was I supposed to say to a man who no longer wanted me?
In disgust, I clutched the phone in my hands, nearly crushing it before I stuffed it into my pocket. Quickly, I rushed over to my laptop. The login screen told me it was one in the morning, but I didn’t care. At this point, there were tears in my eyes as I thought about Hunter using me throughout the summer only to abandon me when I needed him the most. Why wouldn’t he just answer his phone? I ground my teeth in anger and viciously typed
in my password. I couldn’t handle this anymore.
I pulled up Google Flights, picking the earliest flight home. I couldn’t stay in college where my pregnancy would be laughed at by everyone who saw me or where my boyfriend left me for some Barbie-wannabe. No, I had to get away before anyone found out about this.
I looked at the price tag and bit my lip. $354. I had saved a little over $400 to pay for books and other expenses for the rest of the semester. If I used it on a plane ticket, I would not be able to come back. I bit my lip, wondering if it would be wise to throw away my college career just because I was pregnant. Maybe I could do something about it.
No, I was pregnant and had to face the consequences. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to purchase the ticket. It would change my life forever. I closed my laptop angrily as Facebook dinged with a notification.
I trudged back to my bed, collapsing into it. My head was buried in my pillow, making it hard to breathe, but I didn’t care. All I cared about was trying to forget. But the image of Hunter with that girl haunted me. I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to ease my mind. Maybe if I did that, all of this would be okay once again.
***
In the morning, I woke up to some of my suitemates struggling with their doors. My head felt like it would explode at any moment. I rolled out of bed and padded to the desk drawer, taking a few aspirin and downing them with water. I sighed and saw my reflection in the mirror. I looked like a mess.
I tried to run my fingers through my disheveled hair, but it fell limply over my shoulders. There were deep bags under my eyes, and my skin seemed almost translucent. I had to get out of here and go home before this situation got the best of me. I put on some jeans, which were tighter than usual. Or was I simply imagining it? Once I was dressed, I grabbed my keys and hurried to the academic office.
I was quickly seen by the dean. “Hello! How can I help you today?” the cheerful, middle-aged woman asked me, tidying up her desk as I sat before her.
“I’d like to ask for a leave of absence,” I said in a hollow voice.
“Oh dear. The semester just started. Are you sure about this? The school offers a variety of different health services that can help you through your difficult time.” The woman looked at me with compassion, but I just shook my head.
“No. I don’t think that will help me. It’s a medical emergency. My mother is very sick. I have to go home and take care of her.” I lied through my teeth. I wasn’t about to tell the dean I was pregnant. What would she think?
“Oh! I’m very sorry to hear that.” She seemed alarmed. “In that case, I see no issue letting you go home for the semester. I do have to advise you that if you wish to extend your leave for the whole year, you’ll have to reapply for admission.” She got up and walked to a file cabinet, pulling out a dull-colored folder. She opened it and took out the required forms. “You’ll have to fill these out, and I’ll review them. Do you know when you would like to leave?”
“Today, if possible,” I said, resting my hands on my knees.
She frowned but nodded. “Okay, I’ll do everything I can to get them processed as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” I told her earnestly. I grabbed the clipboard she handed me and started to fill out the mundane form. I just wanted to go back home. Of course, I didn’t want to see my mother. She would kill me when she found out I was pregnant. Or worse yet, she would start knitting outfits for the baby in that stupid organic yarn she insisted on buying. No, I had to stay with a friend or something. Just somewhere I could lie low for a while until I could get my new life in order.
I completed the forms, my mind still abuzz with plans for the future. The dean looked them over before telling me I was free to go.
Back in my room, I managed to buy a ticket for that afternoon. I packed all my essentials, leaving my room a mess. I didn’t mind leaving behind what I didn’t care about. Shampoos, textbooks, old pairs of shoes—none of that mattered now.
With time against me, I rushed to the airport. I kept getting the sense people were staring at me, judging me for the decision I’d made. But what else was I supposed to do? I tried to shrink into my oversized hoodie, but I imagined their eyes following me until I finally got onto the plane.
On the flight, I felt claustrophobic. My legs were cramped, and the seat was too narrow. The stewardess gave me the creeps, and once she knew I was getting sick she wouldn’t leave me alone. The man sitting next to me kept giving me dirty looks every time I grabbed for the vomit bag. Luckily, for both of us, I managed to keep my stomach in check. By the time the lights were dimmed and the complimentary movie began to play, I felt numb.
Once I got back to Maine, I texted my friend Norma. You home? I waited a moment to see if she would read it, but it was stuck on delivered. Finally, I put my phone away. I would just show up and see what happened. Luckily, she had stayed local, opting to go to a community college instead of a big university.
After a short taxi ride on which I dished out a majority of the rest of my money, I arrived at her small home. With a heavy heart, I rang her doorbell, my small suitcase in hand. I knew it was rather pathetic, but I had nowhere else to go. To my relief, she answered the door.
“Victoria?” she exclaimed, staring at me like she had seen a ghost. “What happened to you?” She ushered me inside and sat me down on the couch. “You look terrible.”
I let out a long, pent-up breath that I had been holding for quite some time. “Yeah, I know. Did you get my text?”
Norma pulled out her phone, her cheeks coloring. “Just now. Why are you back home? Did something happen?”
I paused to find the best way to answer. “I’m pregnant,” I said bluntly.
Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. “You’re pregnant?”
My heart tightened at her response. Even my best friend was judging me for my mistake.
BEST FRIEND’S BABY BOOK THREE:
https://www.amazon.com/Layla-Wilde/e/B0106QMK14