The Summer of '98 Page 18

  “What, now?”

  “Why not?” She shrugged as we began toward the gate. “He’s occupied with practice. I’m here for support. Now is perfect. Might as well just get it over with.”

  “I suppose,” I mumbled, feeling a little more nervous now that I was actually about to do the test. Cass picked up her feet in an excited skip as she gripped my arm.

  “It would be kind of cute if you were pregnant,” she held up her palm to silence me when I recoiled. “Like, not cool. But sort of. I could be Aunt Cass. I’d be that aunt. The one that drinks too much at events and embarrasses everyone. And of course, I’d be the fun aunt that the kid comes to when it wants to experience weed for the first time or the one it comes to when it runs away from home because Mom and Dad are lame.”

  “Your imagination is something else,” I said. “I’d rather not talk hypothetically, though. None of that’s going to happen even if the test is positive.”

  I looked both ways before I crossed the street and ignored Cass, who I could feel staring at me and not watching where she was walking at all. We weaved through a group of young kids who were trading cards outside the pharmacy and walked through the electric doors, into the cool air-conditioned store.

  “You wouldn’t keep it?”

  “No,” I said and scanned the shelves as we walked. “I’m not in a position to have a child right now. I haven’t studied. I don’t have a lot of money. I’m too young. There are a lot of factors, I suppose.”

  “Yeah but—”

  “Here it is,” I snatched the box off the shelf that was surrounded by other related products, such as prenatal vitamins, condoms, and lubricants. How ironic that it was all shelved together. “Come on. I want to get this done before we have to be back at the field.”

  Cass followed along behind me while I paid for it. She suggested that I might need a bottle of water or something so that I could pee, but I already needed to. We both walked back to the school as fast as we could and as we approached the field, Cass steered me toward the gymnasium so that I could use the girls’ locker room toilets.

  “Shit, it’s locked,” she slammed her fist on the wooden door. “The cheerleaders must keep the key on them.” She turned around and stared at the other side of the foyer before she looked at me with intent.

  When it dawned on me that she was suggesting that I use the boys’ locker room toilets, I shook my head and tried the girls’ door again. “Gross, no. I am not using the boys’ room. The filth.”

  “We don’t have time to be concerned about the labels on the doors. “She gripped my shoulders and pushed me across the wooden floor.

  “It’s not the labels on the doors! It’s the piss on the toilet seats and the stench of body odor that might kill me!”

  “I’ll come in with you,” she said, as if her presence made some sort of difference to the hygiene situation. She ignored my protests and pushed me inside where a wall of potent sweat and dirty laundry hit us and we both screwed our noses up as we shuffled toward the toilets.

  I gagged when I pushed the stall door open. “This is feral.”

  “Don’t be dramatic,” Cass said. “Don’t touch the seat. Just squat and pee.”

  After I had unboxed the stick and scanned the instructions to make sure that I didn’t pee on the wrong end, I did what she said and squatted over the seat. I put the garbage into the box, flushed, and tucked the capped stick under my arm so that I could open the door.

  I felt as though I was checked out and not entirely present while I went through the motions. I’d detached myself in order to evade a panic attack. “Where should I put this garbage?” I asked Cass when I opened the stall door. She was fluffing her hair in the mirror above the basin and held her hand out to receive the box.

  Before I could stop her, she pulled a lighter out of her overall pocket and lit the box on fire, dropping it into the stainless steel sink. “Cass! Put it out!” I reached out to turn the faucet on, but she stopped me.

  “Relax,” she ordered, keeping a hold on my wrists. “I do this all the time when I steal my test papers from the teachers.”

  I gave her a concerned look and she elaborated. “Before they can give it back, I take it and write down what I did wrong. Burn the paper and then I re-sit the test to up my grade.”

  “Does that work?”

  “Every time.”

  Once the box was charred, she turned the faucet on and soaked the hot bits of black cardboard that were soon washed down the drain. It was all a bit dramatic, but I appreciated her efforts to stop this from getting out. I had a feeling that she might have just enjoyed setting things on fire.

  “Okay, let’s see that test.” She gave an encouraging nod. But all I could do was begin to feel panicked. I clamped my sweaty palms together and took a few deep breaths that didn’t help ease the anxiety at all. “Do you want me to look at it first?”

  The stick tucked under my arm began to feel as though it weighed a solid ton. It seemed insane that such a small object had so much power. It could change everything in the snap of a moment, and I knew that I couldn’t avoid finding out what it said, but I still wanted to stall for as long as possible.

  Reluctantly I nodded and let Cass take the test from me. I remained glued to the spot, my hands came up and rested in front of my chin as I waited with a pounding heart. She’d barely had a chance to look at it when I snatched it from her grasp. “Nope, forget it, I can’t risk you playing a prank and telling me the wrong result.”

  She seemed baffled at the logic, but I ignored her and bit the bullet, reading the result in the little clear window. “Oh no . . .”

  Cass stared at me with a dropped jaw, her expression an almost dead ringer for how I felt inside. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s positive, Cass.”

  I handed her the stick with trembling hands. I felt shell-shocked. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t understand how, after just one night together, we had conceived a child. The longer I stood and let the thoughts weigh me down, the more panicked I became. There was a plan in place for this situation. I knew what I wanted to do. I knew what steps I would take. I had always been efficient. But that didn’t stop me from reeling into a downward spiral.

  “What now?” Cass questioned, handing the test back. I slipped it into my pocket and shook my head.

  Should I tell Leroy? Should I go home and tell Momma? Should I just phone her and have an abortion here?

  I felt so overwhelmed that all I could do was sink down into a crouch as I attempted to regulate my breathing. It was all too much, and I didn’t know what to do first or how to even make sense and order out of the loud and hostile voices that were screaming at me to start making decisions.

  “I am fucked,” I said, staring at the concrete floor. “Fucked.”

  “Did you just swear?”

  “Cass,” I stood up and gripped her shoulders as she stared at me with alarm. “Tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

  “You should tell Leroy, for starters,” she said as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led me out of the locker rooms. “I think that he’ll be the best help. He’s levelheaded, you know?”

  When we got outside, I wasn’t surprised to see the rain had started to fall. It seemed fitting, to be honest. Gloomy weather for the gloomy mood. The team was already packing up the equipment and heading toward us. Cass and I stood under the shelter of the steps and waited. I was barely aware of the guys that passed us, my thoughts wrapped up in my doom, but I tried hard to detach and remain calm.

  “Els?”

  I looked up at the sound of Leroy and met his concerned expression. His shirt was clinging to his frame, rain beads cascading down his face. He must have sensed that something was wrong because he handed the cones he was cradling to one of his teammates as he passed.

  “What’s wrong?”


  “I’ll leave you to talk,” Cass said, touching a supportive hand to my shoulder before she ran down the stairs and sprinted over to the gate.

  “Leroy—”

  “What’s going on?” Leroy closed the distance between us and put his wet hands on my cheeks, forcing me to meet his worried stare. “Els, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I sobbed. Leroy’s expression fell, his eyes cast down at my stomach as though he’d be able to confirm it for himself.

  He stammered for a moment, his mouth opening but no words coming out as he shook his head. “Ellie, I don—”

  “I’m terminating the pregnancy,” I interrupted him, raising my voice a little to compete with the rain that had started to pelt down on the iron awning above us. I hoped no one was still hanging around within earshot.

  His brows pulled together in question and I nodded, wishing I had been strong enough to do this without telling him. I could have taken care of it without putting a single burden on his shoulders.

  “Why?” He dropped his hands from my face and stepped back.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but it hadn’t been that. “Because . . . Leroy, I’m only eighteen. I don’t have a lot of money. I have things that I need to accomplish before I have children. I can’t even cook for goodness’s sake. It’s just—”

  “That’s it?” he snapped. “You can’t cook so you’re just going to get rid of our child?”

  “That was what you got from that?” I shouted. He exhaled a frustrated breath and turned around, heading down the steps and into the thick rain. Of course, I was left to wonder what the heck had just happened. I watched him, flabbergasted for a moment as he stormed across the grass toward the exit gate.

  When I was finally able to get a grip, I snapped into it and ran after him. The rain was heavy, but it was almost warm, and I tried to keep my eyes open as I ran across the sopping grass. I caught up to him as he reached the gate and put my full force into shoving his back. I didn’t realize how mad I was until I put hands on him, and he turned around with broad shoulders and a pained expression.

  “I could use some support right now,” I shouted, giving his chest another shove. “You’re just gonna make me feel like shit and then leave me? What is wrong with you?”

  “Have you even thought about what I want?” He stepped forward. His eyes were narrowed because of the rain and it made him appear even more intimidating. “Did you consider how I would feel, for even a second?”

  “Of course, I did! You’re going to be playing college football. You’ll be going pro. You’ll be doing what you’ve always wanted to, and I’m not going to stand in the way of that. I won’t do that!”

  “That’s not your decision to make!” He stepped closer again. “Maybe I want this baby. Maybe I want that, with you. There’s no one else in this world that I would want to have a child with. Maybe I want you to have this child, Ellie.”

  He looked distraught and it killed me. I couldn’t handle hearing the pain in his voice, so I lifted a hand and caressed his wet cheek, my heart pounding as he leaned into it. “That’s not your decision to make,” I softly repeated his own words. “I’m not ready.”

  The rain rolled over his defeated expression, the storm in his gaze so much heavier than the one in the sky. He ran a hand through his soaked hair to push it back from his face. “So, what then? What now?”

  “I need to go home, Leroy.”

  “Then I’ll come with you.”

  I shook my head as I pulled on the front of my shirt. My clothes were clinging to me, wet and heavy. “No, Leroy. You won’t even be allowed in the house after I tell Momma about this. I need to take care of this on my own.”

  He stepped forward again and rested his forehead on mine. “Don’t do this. Please don’t.”

  “Leroy,” I warned with a trembling voice. I hated this. I hated it more than he knew.

  He didn’t argue again. But I could see how torn he felt, and it broke me. It tore me to pieces to know that he wanted something I couldn’t give him. I was so afraid this would change things between us, that he would resent me for what I had to do. And I think that deep down, he knew this would change things between us as well because his hand wrapped around my waist, his other around my neck, and he pulled me in, kissing me as though his life depended on it.

  It was desperate. His kiss was clutching on for dear life and I could feel the pain. I could feel the arguments he still wanted to make. I could feel the pleading and heartbreak. His tongue moved against mine, fast and unforgiving, and after a moment, he pulled me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. The rain poured down on us as he walked us out of the gate and over to the car. He fumbled with the door for a moment, and then he pulled it open and pushed me into the backseat.

  He was silent as he pulled the door shut behind him. He hovered over top of me and brought our lips back together as he pushed my soaked skirt up and fumbled with my panties to get them down. The leather underneath me became slippery from our rain-drenched clothes but nothing distracted us as we freed our bottom halves.

  The way that he made love to me was as desperate as the kiss had been. Like he knew that we were limited for time. Like he knew that once we left this school and faced having to tell our parents, everything would be different. And it would be. So we gave ourselves this. We had rough, desperate, wordless sex in the backseat of his car and we let it say goodbye for us.

  Leroy

  Ellie is the love of my life. I know that because I’m better when I’m with her. And not just in the sense of who I am as a person, but how I feel and look at the world. She reminds me that no matter how impossible a situation feels, there’s a way to get through it. She encourages kindness and optimism. She sees the best in people, and she refuses to let the behavior of other people alter how she responds. Ellie is the woman I want beside me when I go through whatever hard times I might face, and she’s the woman I want to celebrate our achievements with. Trusting her is like second nature because goodness radiates from her very core.

  Which is why I so badly wanted to convince her that despite how helpless this situation seemed, we could move through it together. She was pregnant, and even though the timing wasn’t right, there was no one else with whom I could imagine having a child. There was no one else I would ever want to have a family with, and I didn’t care how crazy that sounded because we were eighteen and what could we know about forever? But damn it, how could I not know it was forever when I looked at her and I saw her beside me when I graduated. I saw her on the sidelines, waiting for me after I played for the NFL for the first time. I saw her accepting an award for the best new skincare brand. I saw her cutting a tall white cake in a beautiful dress. I saw her sitting in the seats of a school function, exuding pride as she watched her children perform. I saw us sitting in our matching armchairs, old and happy in the life that we had created together. She was beside me through it all and I could see it crystal clear. To me, that was forever.

  Maybe this wasn’t exactly how I imagined our journey to parent-hood together going, but it was just one of those situations we would get through together. Even if we didn’t agree, she was right—I couldn’t tell her what to do. It was her body, her decision. It killed me, it did, and I was worried about the impact this would have on her because, even though she’d made up her mind, she hadn’t stopped sobbing since she’d told me. Shaking, apologizing. All I wanted was for her to be okay, one hundred percent okay, in whatever choice she made, and that seemed impossible when either choice was going to be life-changing.

  Mom was home. We heard her car pull into the drive and Ellie and I sat beside each other on the sofa, waiting with trepidation to tell her what was going on. There was no point in hiding it. Ellie wanted to go home; her flight needed to be changed. Mom would want to know what was going on, and I knew that even though she was going to be disappo
inted, she’d help.

  Ellie twisted her hands together in her lap, her knuckles turning white. Before she could break her own fingers, I took her hand in mine and let her squeeze it as hard as she wanted to.

  “She’s going to hate me,” she mumbled, her mouth barely opening enough to let the words out. “She let me into her home and I—”

  “Stop that,” I whispered when I heard the front door open. “She won’t hate you. Both of us did this. And we did it before she let you into her home.”

  She looked at me; damn, she could not stop trembling. “Really? That’s your loophole?”

  “Yea—”

  “Afternoon,” Mom wandered in and stepped down into the living area, her coat damp from the rain. Her smile started to dissolve as she looked between Ellie and me. “What’s the matter?”

  “Mom,” I started to stand up, but Ellie’s grip tightened, refusing to let me leave her side. As much as I wanted to show Mom the respect that she deserved by standing to let her know what was going on, Ellie needed me and that was important. “Mom, Ellie is pregnant.”

  As if the words had power, she stepped backward, her mouth fell open, and she breathed so visibly hard that I worried she would pass out. For a while, no one said a thing. Silence enveloped us, suffocating to the point that I wanted to open a window. If she didn’t speak soon, I was going to have to talk and with the nerves that were coursing through me, I doubted it would be a logical conversation.

  “I’m sorry.” Ellie was quiet beside me, a tear slipping down her cheek. Mom didn’t look at her in anger, but she did turn to me with an expectant stare.

  “Oh, me too,” I added. “I’m sorry. We weren’t as careful as we should have been.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she slowly walked over to her armchair and sat down. “This is not a great situation. But it’s not . . . impossible. It is hard to navigate, though. How long have you two known?”