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He went to the part of town someone would go to if they wanted to get into trouble and they didn't know how. The kind of place your secrets lined your lips and you wanted to get them out, rub them off on a rim of a bottle of beer.
He did not have innocent secrets.
I lost the one thing important to me.
She was standing, confused, on the end of the sidewalk, red hair piled on her head, shirt low, skirt high, but not in a sexy way. In a dress up way, fake. She was no better than little girls with princess crowns and fairy wands.
I lost the one thing important to me twice in one night.
They don't recall how, but they fall into each other's arms, into a love hotel paid by daddy's credit card. His lips are on her neck, her hands are unbuttoning his shirt. They both shake.
I lost the one thing important to me twice, two girls took him away before I could realize.
Their clothes are piled around the bed, he heaves breaths that echo like sobs, his weight collapses onto hers. She gasps underneath him. Neither of them quite reach an orgasm, but pretend to anyway.
He only wants her to be happy.
When he wakes, she is asleep in his arms, her cold sweat coats his limbs. He feels heavy. He feels empty.
Why can't he want me to be happy?
He collects his clothes and leaves.
Two Months Later
Two missed periods. She'd known after two missed periods. But she couldn't be sure.
But, now she was.
Pregnant. She was pregnant. Sixteen and pregnant. Like on TV.
She paced outside the Host Club club room. She'd seen a poster in his messenger bag for it. If she'd managed enough strength, she'd go in there. And she'd tell him. And he'd want nothing to do with her.
But he needed to know.
She needed to tell him.
"Welcome, princess," a blonde called from across the room. Surprised to see her.
"I have... business with her." A voice intervened, hustled her out the door. He'd cut his hair. He looked smart, and young, and stunningly beautiful for a boy. She laughed, she couldn't stop.
"Why are you-"
Her laughing turned into tears, quiet tears, running down her face. He could see that her hair was not natural red, but scarlet. Her roots were blonde.
"Pregnant," was all she could say, all that her mouth could manage.
It was enough.