Chapter 6

Genevieve POV

"Hand over your bags. They are to be searched," Victor announced to the five of us, Patricia, Mara, Alfie, Jerome, and me. No, what? On today of all days.

I looked over my shoulder to Jerome and gave him a panicked look. His gaze seemed not panicked, but terrified.

He reached for my hand and squeezed it before handing over his book bag. I did the same, hesitantly. Victor gave me a piercing look. Oh, Victor, if you only knew you could very well be ruining my life.

Jerome and I slump down next to each other anxiously.

"Listen, he's probably not gonna care if he found it," Jerome whispered unconvincingly.

"Yeah, right after my mum gets a septum piercing," I sarcastically remarked.

"Okay, well, what could he do?" Jerome asked foolishly.

"One, he could blackmail me. Even if it comes out negative this still won't be a good thing in my history. Or even worse, he could call my mum. She'd literally kill me. Take the letter opener she oddly has in her purse and stick it right down my throat," I theorized quietly.

"Please don't say that," Jerome requested, squirming in his seat.

"What, it's the truth," I informed him.

"You're gonna be okay," Jerome assured me, pinching at my elbow. Man, these past two days have been an emotional roller coaster. And it can only get worse.

"Yeah, right after my mum gets a septum piercing," I repeated jokingly.

Jerome groaned, "My God, Gen, be original much."

"Be short much," I tease.

"Genevieve, I'm hurt. You know how sensitive I am about my height," Jerome defended kiddingly.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was raised with bad manners," I apologized in a little kid voice.

"Welp, that explains a lot," Jerome teased.

I opened my mouth wide in shock, picked up the couch cushion and whacked Jerome playfully with it. Aw, thanks very much mister.

"If it's any consolation," I went on, "your eyes are absolutely beautiful."

"Why thank you, I try," Jerome jokes. We both break out into laughter despite the desperate situation.

Soon after Victor came back with our bags. I immediately reached out for mine. I mean, it felt the same. Jerome was off talking with Mick about something. I'm not sure exactly what it's about, but I'm sure I won't have to worry about it. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it's probably trouble. But I had bigger things to stress about.

I looked in. The test was still there! I guess that doesn't eliminate the possibility of him calling my mother which is worrying, but at least I don't have to go and retrieve it from Victor myself.

"It's still here," I confessed to Jerome as he walked back to me with the news of the return of bags. His eyes light up, but not in a joyful way more of a "we've beaten the villain, but now we need to explain to the city why their homes are destroyed" type of way.

"Oh, no! It's gone!" Patricia announced. What?! What could Victor have possibly taken from you then?! A knife?! A gun?! An actual baby?!

"Are you ready to do it now?" Jerome asked.

"I think so. Upstairs," I directed.

Jerome followed me up the creaky wooden stairs. Each screech under my pressure symbolized another year of my childhood fading away. No! I'm not pregnant. I'm not pregnant! I'm not pregnant! I chanted this over and over again in my head all the way up the stairs. My bag with the test in it hung from my shoulder, Jerome clinging to my hand.

We made it to the bathroom. Jerome and I sighed in unison.

"Okay, I'm going to go in there, read the directions, do whatever I need to do. After that you can come in and we'll talk about stuff because I can't bare to think of spending those five minutes in silence," I informed Jerome shakily.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, kissing me on the forehead.

I walk into the bathroom, alone. I slowly take the tester out of the box. It's soft and cold. Is this what adulthood feels like? Because at this very moment I felt like anything, but an adult.

I read through the instructions. "Seems easy, enough," I mutter to myself. After a lengthy pee spree I cap the test and come out of the bathroom, sweeping the hall in case another girl is eager to use the toilet.

Okay, where the fuck is Jerome? He's not in the hall like I thought he'd be.

I go into my room quickly. I don't want to leave any chance of another person finding out about my little secret.

There Jerome is, fiddling with the pictures on my wall.

"There you are!" I exclaim.

"Yeah, sorry," he apologized rushing over to the bathroom. I follow him.

"Woah, it's tinier than I imagined," Jerome revealed.

"Yeah, well, there's not much you need to find out if there's a life growing inside of you," I reminded.

Jerome sat himself down on the bathtub. I joined him in the toilet seat, lid closed of course.

"I was looking at your pictures in your room," Jerome told me.

"Yeah, I saw," I confessed.

"You know, you were a real cute baby," Jerome informed me.

"I know, you've told me before-"

"No, but, like, this time I see it, you know, like, you were cute, real cute," Jerome said.

"Which type of cute do you mean?" I joked.

"I mean, like, innocent cute, the kind that very few people like us have anymore," Jerome revealed.

I sat for a moment in silence, contemplating Jerome's statement. It's not everyday that you hear Jerome Clarke get emotional. I guess recently everything's been a little different.

"Listen, I'm sorry I did this to you," Jerome apologized again. Dude, you gotta stop saying you're sorry for sexing so hard you broke the condom.

"It's not your fault-" I began before Jerome interrupted me.

"No, not this whole thing," he confessed.

"Then what are you sorry for?" I wondered.

"I'm sorry if I had anything to do with, anything at all, about taking away that innocence."

I grasped at Jerome's hand. "I promise you, Jerome, my innocence wherever, whenever you saw it, was long gone way before I met you. If anything, you helped bring it back," I confessed, honestly. "I think you're a pretty rad dude, Jerome."

"Same for you," Jerome complimented me. "How much longer?"

I looked down at my watch and informed, "Like, two more minutes. Can this go literally any slower."

"Well, not literally, no," Jerome sassed.

I gave him a smirk. "I'm gonna kill you."

"Not literally though cause I think we've established that that word means different things to you than it does to me," Jerome joked.

"My God-"

Knock, knock, knock.

Suddenly, my hands tensed.

"Uh, I'm in here!" I hollered to whoever was knocking at the door.

"Genevieve, will you please hurry up, I really need to go," Amber's voice begged.

I thought fast. "Sorry, I can't Amber. I'm taking a shit!" I lied.

"Jesus Christ! Could you be any less ladylike?!" Amber exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, Amber. I just don't seem to be as proper as you!" I teased.

"You bet your ass your not!" Amber advised.

Jerome quickly placed his hand over his face, stifling the laughter that was erupting from his mouth.

"Where should I go then?" Amber asked.

"The boys downstairs?" I suggested.

Jerome shook his head while silently mouthing the word no repeatedly.

"Ugh! But that's disgusting!" Amber moaned. "Fine, whatever." And she was off.

I checked my watch. Five minutes was up.

I suddenly started crying. Jerome started rubbing my back reassuringly.

"You don't even know what it is yet. It's okay. It's okay," he charmed me.

"And you say I'm the strong one. Look at you, Thor," I said through choked sobs.

"Do you want me to look at it?" Jerome asked.

I straightened out my uniform and wiped my eyes. "No, no, it's okay, I've got it." I walked over to the sink where the pregnancy test lay, upside down.

I took a deep breath in. I flipped it over. Staring up at me was a big fat plus sign.

I was so shocked I couldn't even cry, couldn't move, couldn't speak.

Jerome crept up behind me, gently massaging my back.

"It's positive," I muttered. He didn't stop massaging, but I could tell his hands had changed. The became aged and sharp, but with a certain friendliness only someone you love could have.

I finally let out tears. I don't even think. This is not the moment to think. If I did that I would explode.

I turn around to Jerome and embrace him, crying into his shoulder.

We release each other. I stare blankly into Jerome's red, terrified eyes. "I think I need to have a few minutes to myself if that's okay," I confessed, pulling apart the test packaging to be able to compact it in the rubbish bin.

"Tot...totally," Jerome choked, rubbing me on the shoulder as a farewell.

I placed the test down on the sink counter. I brought both my hands to my face to cry. What am I going to do?

I am suddenly overcome with a strong gust of nausea. I bend over the toilet bowl and retch into it. Well, I guess it's official. I'm doomed. Oh, yeah, what are the teen pregnancy rates at this school? Like, 1/1000000000. How special am I. I certainly don't feel special barfing into this toilet.

I am in a mix of crying and vomiting and, like, praying, aka, title of my sex tape ; crying, vomiting, and praying.

It could've been a false positive and all this puke is just nerves. I try to convince myself this, but nothing seems to be working.

I shove the box with the brown cardboard side sticking out as to not be suspicious in the garbage and retreat to my room after cleaning up my mess with the pregnancy test hidden in my sleeve.

I sit down on my mattress, playing with the testing stick in my shirt. This isn't a toy, I tell myself, this is the start of my new future. No matter what I choose my life is going to change. Even if I were to get an abortion my life would in no way be the same. My mother would kill me, so, then I would have no future. If I were to give it up for adoption then I would have to live knowing that my smaller half-clone was somewhere out there. I would be known in school as "the chick who got pregnant" and Jerome would be known as "the dude who got that chick pregnant." And if I were to keep it, oh, I couldn't even imagine. I wouldn't be able to do anything, let alone live out the rest of my youth normally. My life would completely fall apart.

I pulled a box out from underneath my bed. It's contents were primarily letters from my dad and even a couple from my brother that I never had the heart to throw away. As well as Jerome's letters to me over the summer during our first year of dating, and probably for all of the future years, because I'll be in a homemade prison cell. It also, now, contains my freshly used pregnancy test. I slid the box back under my bed frame.

I lie down on my back and start absentmindedly tracing my stomach. Now, I know that there is something growing inside of there whether I want it to or not. And it was half Jerome so that's gotta be nice. But, still, this thing is ruining my life.

Is this realistic? No. Is this creative? No. Is this good? No. Review as you will.

~Elle

P.S. I'm becoming attached to Genevieve. What? But she's barely developed.