by Colbie Kay
I t's early October, and I’m still trying to get back in the routine of school. It's been almost eight weeks since I last saw Tucker. I’ve heard around town he was arrested with some of his friends for breaking into the high school, but they’ve all been released since then.
More than once, I’ve wondered if he is still in town or if he’s left for college. Then again, if he is still here, why hasn’t he been by to see me? I’ve searched for him, gone by his house, talked to his friends, anything I can think of, and yet, no one will tell me anything. Honestly, I was so surprised he got into trouble because that’s not like him…at least, not the him I thought I knew. It just seems like everything is so upside down lately, even with myself. I haven’t been feeling normal. I don’t know how to explain it, but something is off…or everything.
The sound of my P.E. teacher’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I stare at myself in the mirror in my two-piece bathing suit. Something is different with me physically too. I turn side to side and think my belly looks a little more bloated than usual, but I play it off as simply eating too much or, hopefully, my period is coming.
Following my class to the pool, I spend the next hour wading through the water and doing what my teacher instructs us to do, but my mind is back on Tucker. Did he really even care about me?
As I’m sitting in seventh-period, I'm called to the guidance counselor's office. I quickly leave the class and head down the hall where I find her standing outside her door. "Hi, Mrs. Weatherly." I grin as I approach.
She sighs but offers me a kind smile. "Come in and take a seat, Poppy." She holds the door open for me.
Once I’m settled in a chair, I feel my nerves kick up, and my heart pounds a hundred beats a minute. I sit quietly, twisting my hands together because I don't know why she has called me to her office.
"Some of your teachers and classmates are concerned about you," she begins as she takes a seat behind her large wooden desk.
I frown in confusion. "Concerned, why?" I ask perplexed.
"They say you haven't been acting like yourself for the last few weeks. You seem tired and are falling asleep during class. That’s not normal for you, Poppy. Students have even expressed their concern in regards to the people you were spending time with over the summer."
I drop my head. Who told? Who could have found out? “Who was I hanging out with?” I lift my gaze and narrow my eyes in a challenge because I’m defensive. It’s not any of her business or anyone else’s who I was spending time with.
Her head tilts to the side a fraction. “I’m not attacking you, Poppy, but I have to ask when was your last period?"
My eyes widen as I stare into hers, and I swallow hard.
"Have you missed your period?" She continues.
I slowly begin to nod as tears well in my eyes. I’ve been denying the possibility. I’m too young. It was only one time. I’m just stressed. I’ve made all of those excuses.
"It's going to be okay," She reassures me, but I know it’s not going to be. She grabs a brown paper sack off of her desk and holds it out for me. "This is a cup for you to urinate in. I want you to take it into the bathroom and bring it back."
My hand trembles as I take the sack. “You just keep a supply of pregnancy tests?” My legs are unsteady as I stand up.
She replies with so much care in her tone. “No, I went to the health department. I figured you would need someone to help you in case you were too scared to talk to your parents.”
“Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say as I stagger out of her office, moving toward the bathroom. It’s like walking through a dark tunnel that's clouded with fog. My pulse pounds in my ears and my stomach begins to twist. I’m fighting to hold back the tears which are threatening to fall. This can’t be happening it was only one time. I’m not even in high school.
A total of ten minutes is all it took to shatter me. She speaks the words I’ve been fearing the most, "You're pregnant. The test was positive, Poppy."
Tears cascade down my cheeks and sobs rip from within. I can barely breathe and grip the arms of the chair so tightly that my knuckles turn white. I feel like my heart is going to pound right out of my chest. What am I supposed to do? I can’t even think straight let alone try to come up with an idea of what to do next. Fourteen-years-old, and I’m pregnant. I don’t want this. What are people going to say? My parents–oh God, my parents!
I whisper into the quiet room, "Can you take me to my mom?"
"Yes." She nods and reaches for her keys.
I don't know how I manage to stand, but I do and walk out on my own, keeping my head down to avoid seeing anyone. She drives me across town to the restaurant where my mom is a waitress. Somehow, I stumble inside the building and to a table, falling into a chair. It’s all a blur as the words “you’re pregnant” play in my mind over and over like a terrible nightmare.
My mom takes the seat across from me, and Mrs. Weatherly sits down next to me. I can do nothing except stare at my mom. As I’m gaping at her, all I can think is she's too young to be a grandma–not even forty–and doesn’t have a single gray hair on her head. Unfortunately for her, I'm about to break her heart. My own heart sinks into the pit of my stomach at the thought of the devastation and disappointment she’s going to feel when I say the words.
"What's wrong, Poppy? Why did Mrs. Weatherly bring you here?" Mom asks, a tremor in her voice.
Taking a deep breath, I release it in a rush. "I have something I need to tell you." More tears push forward, and before I can stop the words, I blurt, "I'm pregnant."
She sits back in her chair, covering her mouth. "You're only fourteen." She demands in a whisper, "Who's the father?"
I cast my gaze downward, unable to meet her eyes. "His name is Tucker."
"The same Tucker Bryce who was arrested?”
I nod but don’t speak.
“My God, Poppy! He’s nineteen! We have to tell your father then decide what to do." She stands from her chair and goes to speak to her boss.
I look at Mrs. Weatherly because I’m scared beyond measure. “I can’t tell my father!” I shake my head frantically back and forth.
Her hands cup my cheeks. “Poppy, it’s going to be okay. Would you like me to join you when you tell him? I’m here to support you.”
“No,” My mom interrupts. “Sorry, but this is a family matter. I think you’ve done enough.”
Mrs. Weatherly gets to her feet. “I was only doing what I thought was right.”
Mom cocks her brows. “The right thing would have been coming to me before letting my fourteen-year-old daughter find out she was pregnant without one of her parents present.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Montgomery, but if I hadn’t given her the test, when would she have told you or your husband? How long would it have taken for you to notice?” Mrs. Weatherly glances down at me. “If you need anything, Poppy—”
Mom cuts her off again, “She won’t.”
I watch silently as Mrs. Weatherly leaves.
“Let’s go home.” Mom takes my arm and pulls me along. “How could you be so stupid?” She mutters under her breath.
I don’t reply. I can’t because I was stupid.
I DON'T KNOW how long I've been sitting here looking into the eyes of my father. He's getting frustrated and takes another long drink of his Jack and Coke. My father's not a mean drunk, but he's a drunk nonetheless. There's not a time I can remember when he hasn't had a drink in his hand.
"Spit it out, Poppy." He hisses through his clenched teeth, gritting them together.
Taking one more deep breath, I rush, "I'm pregnant."
Mom squeezes my hand harder after my confession, and my father jumps from his chair. My gaze connects with his, and I can see the disappointment there. I don’t know which was worse, my mom or dad, but I see more anger radiating from my father. He doesn't speak another word to me as he storms out of the house. Minutes later, I hear his truck peel out of our driveway.
Mom releases my
hand and pats my arm. "He just needs some time, Poppy."
"Yeah." I stand on shaky legs and trudge to my room.
After pacing in there until the sun sets, I take my mason jar outside.
"Poppy, whatcha doing?" Julien's voice startles me because I was so focused on catching fireflies, I never heard him approach.
Falling to the ground, I burst into gut-wrenching sobs.
"Hey!" Julien drops beside me. "What's wrong?" His arms wrap around me as he pulls my head to his chest.
"I have to make my wish," I tell him angrily. Angry at myself, angry at Tucker, and angry at Julien for trying to comfort me. Sitting up quickly, I close my eyes and make my wish. Why is he even here? Why is he trying to be nice now?
His brow furrows with worry. "What did you wish for?"
"I wished for this to all be a dream. I wished for it to not be real."
"What, Poppy? Talk to me."
I run my hand across my nose, wiping away the snot and tears. "Why do you even care? We aren't friends anymore."
Sighing, he runs his fingers through the blond hair that hangs past his ears. "We aren't close like we used to be, but I care, Poppy, I've always cared…more than you could ever know."
I huff in disdain. "You have a funny way of showing it. My life is over, Julien." My water-filled gaze meets his. "I don't want this."
His features twist more and more into a perplexed frown as I keep him in the dark. "Want what?"
I spit out the words I’ve repeated over and over today. "I'm pregnant."
Julien's eyes drop as he pulls grass out of the ground. "The guy over the summer? He's the father?"
My brows knit. "How did you know?"
His gaze meets mine. "I saw him at your window. That’s why I stayed away."
"Wait." My eyes widen. "It was you who went to Mrs. Weatherly? Why did you do that?" I demand angrily.
He simply shrugs his shoulders. "Because I was worried about you. And people around town are talking about you. My parents have heard rumors and said it’s a good thing we aren’t friends anymore because they wouldn’t allow a disgrace to influence their son."
"Why are you here now? Why not stay away like you have been? I don’t need you!" I start to stand, but his hands on my cheeks stop me from moving.
His eyes bore into mine in such a way it’s like time stops. Like everything around us freezes except me and Julien. His piercing blue depths pull me in so intensely, and it’s like he can see right into my very soul. "Because I'm not going to let you be alone through this. You’ve always been there for me. It’s my turn to be here for you."
"What about people at school? Your friends? Your parents? This isn’t your problem."
He shakes his head, his gaze never leaving mine. "I don't care. I don’t care what anyone says, and I’m tired of pretending."
I ask, confused, “Pretending what?” What is he trying to tell me?
Before he has a chance to respond, my mom yells for me, “Poppy?”
"I gotta go." I jump up and run to my house.
Lying in bed later that night, I hear the front door slam closed and my father’s drunken footfalls stomping through the house. My parents begin talking, their voices becoming louder as the discussion continues.
My father bellows, “For fuck’s sake, she’s fourteen! She can’t have no baby, and we sure ain’t gonna raise it.”
“It’s going to be up to her to decide what to do. We can’t make this decision for her,” Mom tries to reason with him.
“Her friends better stay away before they end up like her.”
Mom cries, “She’s our daughter!”
“Do you know who the father is?”
“It’s that Tucker Bryce boy who was arrested this summer.”
My father growls, “Even fucking better.”
I cover my head with my pillow to drown out their voices. Tears spill down my cheeks from the words my father is spewing about me. I knew he was angry, but to hear him say my friends should stay away from me is more hurtful than anything anyone has ever said about me. I expect to hear these kinds of things from others, but my own father? A coldness begins to form in my heart, and I know after this, we will never be the same. Terrified of what my father might do to Tucker, all I can think about is finding him first.
I sit behind a glass window staring at the boy in an orange jumpsuit I thought I loved over the summer. How did we get here? Tears burn my eyes when I think that his life will be ruined because of this…me.
"I'm pregnant, Tucker."
"You sure? Have you gone to the doctor? Those store tests can give false positives." His gray eyes stare back at me without any emotion in them, and his face gives nothing away as to how he feels about the bombshell I dropped on him a moment ago.
"Yes, my mom took me a few days ago.” My brow knits with confusion. Shouldn’t he be happy, sad, angry, worried…something? “I wanted to see you. What am I supposed to do?"
"You're too young to have a baby. You have your whole life ahead of you," he finally states emotionlessly.
I continue staring at him, bewildered by the way he is acting. "And what about you? This is your baby too."
"Woah, hold on." He puts his hand up and shakes his head. "I can't be the father because I never touched you." He states those words so effortlessly. How can he lie like that? How can it just spill from his lips like it’s the truth?
Tears pool in my eyes. "Tucker—"
He interrupts me, "Tell them it's all a lie!" His eyes widen. "Are you going to let me go to jail for something I didn't do? They're saying since you're so young, I raped you. I didn't rape you! I never touched you. Tell them!" Anger I've never seen from him spews forth, surfacing from somewhere within him. His fist pounds against the glass. “Your father’s the reason I’m here! How could you tell them I knocked your whore ass up?” He sneers in disgust, "You're the town slut, right? Anyone could be the father."
I put the phone back onto its cradle and stand slowly, completely stunned and willing the tears brimming my lids to evaporate. This isn't the boy I knew. Was everything a lie?
His mouth moves, and his teeth are bared, but I can no longer hear the harsh words falling from his lips. His fists continue to pound against the glass, but I am deaf to that clatter as well.
Defeated and realizing I am on my own, I slowly trek back to my mom’s car.
On the ride home, I remain quiet, not speaking a word to my mother. I’m stewing over what Tucker said, and my fury and annoyance are bubbling up, simmering under the surface. There’s something else too though. Anger and resentment, yes, but most of all, pain because his words hurt me.
Mom parks the car, and I slam the door closed before storming into the house. “Dad!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
“What?” He stumbles out of the kitchen. His drinking has increased since I broke the news to him, and we’ve barely spoken let alone looked at one another.
“Why did Tucker say you’re the reason he’s in jail?” My arms are crossed over my chest as I glare at my father.
“Because that’s where he fucking belongs!” The words come out slurred due to his drunken state. I have always been his little girl, and when I need him the most, he’s like this. Who has disappointed whom more?
My eyes narrow. “How could you?”
“How could you be so stupid?” He spits back. “You’re fourteen-years-old, how are you going to take care of a baby? I’ll tell you right now, me and your mother raised our kids, we won’t raise yours too.” His eyes cut to Mom. “You need to go on and make an appointment for her to take care of it.” He takes another long drink from his glass before waving it around in the air. “No one will even have to know. We’ll just tell them you had a miscarriage.” He spins around haphazardly and heads back into the kitchen.
I turn to face my mother. “Mom.” That single word holds my plea for help.
She steps closer and hugs me tightly. “Just remember, you’re his daughter, and he loves you.
He may not be handling this as well as he should, but it’s hard for him.”
Pulling back, I angrily wipe away my fallen tears. “Hard for him? What about me? You think this isn’t hard for me? I need him, and all he’s doing is getting drunk day after day. He can barely stand to look at me, and he certainly isn’t talking to me. Did you know about Tucker going to jail?”
Unable to hold my gaze any longer, she shifts her eyes, and that simple act gives me my answer.
I purse my lips and shake my head. “You are just as bad as him.” I sigh heavily with so many mixed emotions running through me. They might be disappointed in me, but I’m disappointed in them too. Tucker is this baby’s father. It’s a part of him as much as it’s a part of all of us. I’m infuriated with Tucker, yes, but shouldn’t we have all talked about this? Made a decision together? “I realize now that I’m alone in this. So, thanks, Mom.” I hiss. Even my mother is going against me. I have no one, no one except Julien.
Glaring at her, I try to step away, but she holds onto my wrists. “You need to think about making that appointment,” She declares.
I snort in disbelief. “I can’t do it. I can’t have an abortion.” Stomping to my room, I slam my door shut and fall onto my bed. My hand instinctively moves to my stomach as my emotions consume me.
AS THE MONTHS PASS BY, I find myself getting more and more excited about the baby. I think it really hit me that I’m going to be a mom when I heard the heartbeat for the first time. I can’t explain the emotions the moment I heard the thump thump thump. I was overwhelmed and knew I already loved this little human who I hadn’t yet met.
Ever since I began feeling the baby kick, I’ll watch my stomach for hours, waiting to see if it will move. I know it’s too soon, but I’m anxious. I’m hypnotized by this little person, and I haven’t found out the sex yet. Every time the doctor has tried, it was either too soon to tell or the baby had its legs crossed, being a stubborn little thing. It’s okay because I only hope I can be a good mom. I don’t care if it’s a boy or girl as long as it’s healthy.