No voicemails. No e-mails. No missed calls. Nothing. Shutting my cell phone, I tossed it to the end of my bed, where it lay lifeless. Silent.
Even though I wasn't expecting any of those things, disappointment seemed to shadow me. He had listened. He was leaving me alone. And even if that was what I had intended to happen—I couldn't help but be annoyed that he could be the type of person who gave up so easily. Ricky Underwood was the guy who always got what he wanted. He had every girl wrapped around his finger, happily dangling them until he felt bored, then he cut the strings. Ricky Underwood was the guy who wouldn't give up. But then, I guess Ricky Underwood didn't want me. No voicemails, no e-mails, no missed calls. What a liar.
Saturday morning was starting off so well. Even if the sun was shining and the aroma of pancakes, eggs, and bacon was wafting up to my room, the day seemed more or less dreary than my life already was. Forcing myself out of bed seemed a huge task, but was soon found easy after I felt morning sickness come over me once more.
After three flushes, and five minutes of brushing my teeth - hoping to rid myself of the vile taste - I stared at myself in the mirror. My reflection seemed to not be a fifteen year old girl, all perky and excited about highschool. Instead my reflection was of a girl with a stomach that was getting bigger, bulging greatly underneath her loose yellow shirt.
Choices I had made, caused this whole mess to happen. I wanted a way out, but the last time I tried that, I was a coward and chickened out. I couldn't do that. No matter how much trouble and gossip kept coming into my life, I wasn't ready to make another mistake. Clearly, my decision making skills were terrible.
If I had chosen to ask my dad for a ride instead of Ben last night, this wouldn't be happening. If I had decided to leave for Mimzy's this wouldn't be happening. If I had never said yes to Ben the day he asked me out, this wouldn't be happening. If I had just never had sex with Ricky, this wouldn't be happening.
It seemed so easy to blame everyone and everything around me, when really I was the only one at fault. I don't know whether to be relieved by this, or to hate myself more and more. Either way, I needed to get out for the day. Decisions couldn't be changed in the past, I just had to step up and make better choices. And my first choice was to smile a bit—so I picked up my phone, and called his number.
The air felt cool and fresh, with a few clouds floating across the vast blue sky. The sun shone brightly, making the autumn weather seem warmer than it should be. But my thoughts were too distracted, by another source of warmth. My hand in his. Together in happy silence, we strolled through the park. The grass was cool as it brushed against my legs, and the wind blew through my hair, making me more relaxed. I looked up into his brown eyes, and smiled. He smiled back. We continued walking along, pointing out the rare squirrel or chipmunk we saw along the way; until we spotted a bench, and with my feet pleading for some rest, we happily sat down. We remained silent for a while—he stroked my hair, as I lay on his shoulder. I shut my eyes.
"Thanks, Ben."
I opened my eyes, and lifted my head off of his shoulder, looking into his eyes.
"Thanks, for what?"
"For just being there." I flashed him a smile, gently reaching for his free hand.
"Aww, Amy, you don't have to thank me for that. I'd do anything for you, for my woman." He winked at me. I was too busily involved in the moment, that his usual routine of calling me "his woman" didn't disgust or bother me this time. I just happily smiled at him, and continued squeezing his hand.
"No, I really appreciate it...I mean you didn't judge me. You don't look at me funny at all. When everyone else was saying stuff about me, you just held onto my hand—and I liked it. You just know what to do."
He didn't reply, instead he reached for my face, and gently placed a quick kiss on my lips. It was gentle, and warm. When he broke away from it, I slowly placed my fingers to my lips. They tingled.
"Amy, I would do anything for you—for the both of you." He said this as he stared at my stomach, placing a hand on it. "I told you, I'd marry you."
My heart skipped a beat. Every single time we were together, he had a way of bringing up the issue. We were only fifteen, and I already had enough issues with being pregnant and in high school. Now being fifteen, pregnant, and married in high school was a step I didn't want to take. His gestures were sweet, and the ring he gave me was nice...but I just didn't want to go there.
As if he could read my thoughts, understanding the uncertainty I was feeling, he lightly changed the subject.
"So...have you thought about names yet?"
The question jolted me back to reality, and it dawned on me there was a problem with coming up with names.
"I-I don't even know the baby's sex yet."
"Well, that doesn't matter. If it were a boy though, how about calling it Ben Jr.? Heir of the Sausage Kingdom." He laughed a little, his eyes glistening with the sun's light.
"Hmm...my son the prince? I think one Ben's hard enough for me to handle, and besides...ummm..."
The smile and laughter seemed to disappear from him, and he hung his head, fiddling with the grass using his foot. "It's okay Amy, I know. I know it'd be weird, using my name. 'Cause...I-I-I...I'm not the father, and all."
The words seemed like they were glued to his mouth, and the difficulty of letting them out was too great for him. He was worried, he hated the thought of competition, and how the baby didn't belong to him—and genetically never would. But, he had no need to be worried. Ricky didn't want me, I didn't want him. Frankly, Ben was more of a father, than Ricky probably ever could.
The thought saddened me a little, but I recovered. I reached for his hand. "I like the name Gwen. For a girl."
"Sounds nice. I like it." He plastered a smile across his face. He was faking it. I could tell.
"Ben, don't worry about it. Ricky has nothing to do with me not wanting to name the baby—our baby—Ben Jr. It's just Ben? I mean come on. What a silly name." I was hoping to lighten up the mood, resorting to jokes about my boyfriend's name. I wanted his genuine smile. Stupid as it may have sounded, he was more than willing to play along.
"Well, I don't know. I find Ben to be an awesome name. Now Amy on the other hand...I feel sorry for anyone with that name. I mean come on. Amy?"
I slapped him across the arm, laughing hysterically. And he was laughing too. The tension before seemed to slip away, and we were both back to being happy, forgetting about the last two minutes.
Soon, we got up from the bench and strolled through the rest of the park. As we held hands, I watched all the other families spending time together. As I stared a little girl with blonde hair, tied in pigtails, I couldn't help but glance at the parents who were holding her hands. The mother seemed gentle, with red hair in a bob cut, and the father was tall, and muscular, with brown hair that was just thinning.
Images of the near future popped into my head. What would it be like to be...a family? The only family I had known were my parents, siblings, and grandparents. Never had I ever thought about a family I would have one day. Thoughts of me and Ben walking through the park with our own daughter, or son, whichever it be, came into my thoughts.
Would we spend a lot of time having picnics and all that family bonding? Would we be good parents? Would we be too tough? Too fair? Being that mature seemed to surreal to me, it seemed hard picturing myself doing that. I couldn't see the bad times in my imagination. I could only see me, my hand linked with his arm, with our child happily hanging on as he/she sat on his shoulders. I could hear laughter.
And as I stared up into the image of my future, husband I couldn't help but smile. Dark hair, dark eyes. But suddenly, looking at the face in my thoughts, it wasn't Ben I was happily staring it. It was...it was...Ricky. I forcefully shook my head, erasing the thoughts from my mind. Ben hadn't taken that unnoticed and he looked down at me.
I didn't want to worry him. We already had a bump in today's outing. So I did what I had only done so often this past year. I lied. Faking a smile, and snuggling closer to his arm, I lied. To the most honest guy, the one who was always truthful with me, I lied.
Besides, no voicemails. No e-mails. No missed calls. Ricky Underwood didn't want me.
I wanted him to leave me alone, so I would leave him in the back of my mind where he belonged.
I stared up at Ben, and uncharacteristically I reached up and kissed him. It lasted longer than the one we had a while ago—but this one, didn't have the tingle that the other one had. This kiss was a kiss hoping to prove that Ben was the right one. That he loved me. That he would be there. That he cared.
Upon pulling apart from the kiss, he stared at me—his eyes filled with shock and compassion. He opened up his arms to me, and I accepted the invitation. Falling into his arms, he wrapped them around me, engulfing me in a gentle embrace. As my arms wrapped around his neck, it was then, that as he hugged me, I noticed a familiar figure standing behind a nearby tree.
I shut my eyes.