A short piece written for English. I probably would've written it better, but I was going onto a 5th page and thought my teacher might be annoyed XD
Hope you like!
I didn't expect the knock on my door any more than I expected a pig to fly through my open window. In other words, I didn't expect it at all. I mean, I guess anything's possible, in the whole scheme of things. The point was that it hadn't occurred to me that anyone would be calling at this hour, especially since I hadn't ordered room service or anything. I glanced at my watch before opening the door. It was 10:30. No one in they're right mind opens up a hotel room door in the middle of New York City at 10:30 at night.
Cautiously, I walked over to the door and looked through the peephole. When I saw who it was, I opened the door quickly, let the person in, and shut it hurriedly. I hadn't been expecting this. Not at all. I turned to face the girl who had entered the room. Her shoulder length brown hair was dripping from the rain. Her eyes were very red.
"Grace, what are you-" I began to say, confused at the lateness of the hour.
"I thought you'd be here, Ward," she said very softly, as if she was afraid of being overheard.
"Grace, I-"
"Stradlater, stop," she said, most angrily than before. I fell silent, but she didn't say anything. We stood like that for a bit. I didn't really want start talking, but she didn't seem to want to say anything either. She just sat down on my bed and stared at the floor. I was beginning to feel myself getting impatient, and started again.
"Look, Grace-"
"Ward…" she whispered. The sentence that had been forming in my mouth trailed away, and I felt something rise in my throat. It didn't sound like good news. She cleared her voice shakily and started again. "Ward, I'm pregnant." The whole world felt as if it had stopped. And then it started spinning again, only about five times as fast. I shook my head, not letting myself accept what I was hearing.
"No. No, you can't be. It's not possible." She stood up quickly, and I could see the color drain from her face as she did. She swayed slightly, but I couldn't even muster the strength to move to help her. My feet were rooted to the spot, like I was frozen or something. She righted herself and glared at me.
"Yes, I am," she said, her voice hard.
"It can't be, Grace. There must be a mistake, or something."
"Goddamn it, Stradlater!" she yelled. "There isn't a mistake…I…I'm pregnant, and it's yours." Her voice cracked, and that's when she took off her coat. I could see, even from where I was standing that it was true. You could see the bulge there, under her damp dress. She sunk back unto the bed. I felt sorta light headed myself. I sat myself right down next to her. Neither of us said much for awhile.
"And…y-you're sure it's mine?" She nodded.
"…you were the only one, so…unless this doesn't work the way they always taught us." She laughed shakily. It was hollow, though. There was nothing funny about the situation.
"Your parents-"
"Kicked me out," she muttered. "When they found out. I mean, I couldn't hide it forever."
"How many months?"
"Six, next week or so." I nodded, not really hearing her words. She looked at me. "I've been waiting for you to come back. I've been checking here for months, but you were never here and now…" She started to cry then, and I didn't know what to do. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I put my arm around her and held her, but I wasn't really there. And she wasn't really there. I was far away as I could possibly be, floating somewhere between the things that actually existed and the things that were only from dreams. Her voice brought me back to earth.
"I'm not going to keep it. I…I just can't. I'm not ready to be a mother yet, Ward." I understood. I wasn't ready to be a father either. I held her and breathed in the scent of her hair, and we sat there for a long time.
She didn't expect us to be together. She knew that. She had known from the very beginning. We weren't going to be this happy little family that went out on Sundays and picnicked in the park. She knew that for whatever reasons, that none of us, the three of us, would be going the same way. I hated myself for thinking that way, but it was true. I heard her sigh, and I wanted to hold her forever, and I wanted to run until I couldn't see where I was anymore.
"Will you stay with me, until then?" she murmured.
"…yes."
--
We spent a lot of time together over the next few months. I had to stay at Pencey, but I'd go down during the weekends and sometimes after school had got out. I always told my folks that I was going down to see a friend. That I had a game that night. That I'd see them the next weekend. There was always some excuse. They didn't need to know. It didn't really matter that much anyway.
Grace was staying in a cheap hotel room a couple blocks from the hotel I usually stayed. I paid for it. It was the only thing I could really do. I didn't know anything about childbirth, or pregnancy, or any of that sort of thing. I only knew the things I had learned from my parents, and the other boys on campus. Nothing that would help you deal with a situation like this.
Sometimes we'd go out. Usually, we just sat in her room and talked. We acted like nothing unusual was going on. It wasn't our business to become attached to it. It would be like trying to love something that was never really ours to begin with.
She'd always put her record on. The only record she had brought with her. It was her favorite song. She'd say that it was our song. We'd sit together and talk together. She'd lie against me, and I'd stroke her hair, and tell her I loved her. Maybe it wasn't true. That was the only thing I could think of to say. And when she told me she loved me, and wanted to stay with me, I could only think of the other men she must be thinking about. It had never been about "us". It had just been some fun. Just like every other time, with every other girl.
I promised to stay with her until it was all over.
And I did.
The baby came on a Tuesday night in February. I wasn't there for it. I got a call from the hospital the next day. I went to go see her and all, but she was asleep and totally out of it from all the medication they had given her. They had already taken our daughter away.
The baby.
It was never really ours.
I didn't want to be around when she came to. I paid the hospital bill, and I left. And I didn't look back.
--
That was two years ago, and for two years, I hadn't seen or heard from Grace again. I really didn't mind. I really just wanted to forget the whole thing, you know? I didn't think I could face her again.
Then a couple weeks ago, I was back in New York, spending the night with this girl I had brought. I had been careful, since then. I was older now. Anyway, we stopped at this bar I knew, and I saw this girl who looked familiar. Her hair was different now, blonde, and she carried herself in a different way. She was with a couple of other girls, and I watched her for awhile, not quite sure of what to make of it. After a while, another girl stuck her head in the door.
"Hey, Sunny!" The girl looked up, and for a fraction of a second, our eyes met. Time froze, and I was looking back at the girl I had known years before. She had changed her name, her hair, her identity, but I knew. Then the moment was broken, and she turned away to face the girl in the doorway. "Sunny, Maurice is looking for ya. Gotta client up in the hotel. Some rich kid. Got a bit?" She nodded faintly and hurried out the door as her friends muttered something about the time and the people who must still be up.
"Ward…" my date pouted, tugging at my arm. "Let's go upstairs now, please?" I did as I was told, and we left, leaving the moment and the memories behind us.
It had been two years since I was 17, and she was 16. I'm wiser now. But maybe I sill haven't learned.
Because every time I hold a girl's hand, I make believe it's hers.
And every time I see a little girl on the street with her long brown hair, I wonder if maybe she's mine.
And every time I hear our song on the radio, I want to cry.
