Chapter Six
The next week is consumed by my classes. I have been so distracted that I have to cram… I never cram! And I have four papers due… four! Thursday through Tuesday, I am eaten alive by my studies. Christian and I text on and off, but he knows I have to focus. He says it's okay if we can't meet on Wednesday, but I hate to miss it… I am already going to be gone this weekend! Finally, I decide that I can have a real dinner break. I have to eat, right? We meet at a little Mexican place near my apartment. It's dark and sweet, with a Mariachi band that keeps serenading us. We laugh and eat and laugh some more.
He takes me home and we linger outside my building.
"I wish I could come home with you… or invite you in, but I really need to get through this week. It's kind of a push between now and finals… and I have that convention this weekend."
"I get it," he says. "I've been there."
He kisses me warmly, wishes me luck in Portland, then he's gone…oh, I regret it almost immediately! It's going to be another whole week. I sigh and head inside… 17th Century Literature awaits...
…
I stayed up late making up for my dinner break, and almost overslept, but squeaked into my 9:00 class. I have a 10:15 appointment at the student health center to get checked out and - hopefully - get some contraception. At least I haven't - you know - in over a week. So maybe it won't be too obvious… except the whole asking for birth control. Ugh! This is so embarrassing, but it beats the alternative - since Christian hates condoms… and it REALLY beats the other alternative.
An attractive, brunette female doctor enters the exam room. She's probably late forties, brisk and efficient. "Hello, Anastasia. I'm Dr. Greene. I see you're here for an exam and to secure some contraception?"
I blush. "Hello, um, yes... I mean, please."
Her brown eyes are warm, but assessing. She presses her lips into a thin line, then asks if I have been sexually active.
"Yes," I squeak. Ugh! Get it together, Steele! I really want out of here. I need to find my happy place. Christian's bed... No! Don't go there...
"And did you use a condom every time?" She asks, making notes.
"Um, almost... I mean, we were careful..." Crap.
Luckily, she doesn't ask me to elaborate. She just quirks an eyebrow and makes more notes. Then she asks me to lie back, feet in the stirrups... Yes, I know the drill. Thankfully, she continues to be efficient and we are finished within a few minutes. She writes me a prescription for the pill, instructs me to start taking it on the first day of my period, and admonishes me to take it at the same time every day. Got it. Phew!
I take the prescription to the nearest Walgreens - and for a co-pay of $6.23 - I have my own slim pack of pills. Birth control - check!
...
My last class on Friday finishes at 2:00 and I am off to Portland… time to find a job! I merge onto I-5, heading south, and step on the gas. Kate's - our - car is fun to drive. It's a black, Mercedes CLK convertible and I have no problem merging into the Friday afternoon traffic. The drive is uneventful until I hit Portland traffic at rush hour, which is complete gridlock all the way downtown to the hotel and conference center. I check in and spot the convention floor as I head to my room. It's after 6:00, so it's closed for the day, but it's books as far as the eye can see. Heaven!
On Saturday, Portland's Book Expo is a whirlwind of booths, vendors, publishers, fan fiction… But what interests me the most is the job fair. I walk around and try to look professional, smiling and chatting, filling out applications for library systems in the Seattle area. Luckily, I'm in my element and it's not as hard as I thought it would be. I can talk about books and reading all day. They used to be my whole life until... Hmmm, maybe I will just send him a flirty text. Or three...
Sunday morning, I wake up feeling sluggish - just really tired - all day. After the closing speakers, it's time to head home. Kate has gone to see her - our - parents for a few days, so I have the apartment to myself. I arrive home at 5 pm and just collapse. From then through Tuesday afternoon, I just study... sleep… read… watch TV… text... um, sext Christian. So much has been going on - classes are wrapping up, finals and graduation are looming, the convention was overwhelming. And speaking of overwhelming...
Around 7:00 on Tuesday evening, I get a wave of energy. Tomorrow is Wednesday and I get a night with him! I head into my bathroom to empty my bag from my trip to Portland and re-pack it. I feel a small, cardboard box in the side pocket and pull it out. Tampax Pearls… packed because I knew I would get my period over the weekend. Shit. And right next to the box is my pack of pills. I quickly do the mental calculations. I should have started on Friday… maybe Saturday… And now it's Tuesday night… SO. Oh no, I am four or five days late. My period is four or five days late. Shit. I have never been more than a day late in my life.
After counting the days again… and again, I have a thought. Kate has a test.. an extra test! She had a scare several months ago and made me go to the pharmacy with her. Ugh, it was horrible… But the part that comes to mind is that it was a 2-pack of tests. And after the first one was - thank God - negative, she shoved the other one in the back of her bathroom drawer.
I scurry across the apartment and through Kate's bedroom to her en-suite bathroom. I pull out the top, right-hand drawer and there it is - tucked all the way in the back. An innocent-looking pink and white wrapper with those scary words - First Response Pregnancy Test.
Oh no. This cannot be happening. I'm twenty-one… a 4.0 student, a virgin until three short weeks ago… I finally have my first boyfriend...and it's only been THREE WEEKS! And I'm a librarian for God's sake! I grab the test and scurry back across the apartment to the safety of my own bathroom. Like that's going to help, stupid! You should have worried about safety three weeks ago!
I rip it open and slide the wand-shaped tester out. With it comes a slender, folded paper - instructions. It doesn't appear to be much more complicated than the act that got me in this situation in the first place. Okay, pee on the stick & make sure the urine line goes past the window, wait three endless minutes, then look to see if life-as-I-know-it is over. Thank goodness I do need to pee, so I sit down and hold the stick in place while my warm pee streams over it… and my hand. Gross. I hold it up and watch as the faintly yellow line of pee fills the window. Then I flip the thing over and slap it on the counter. Okay, three minutes…
I head into my bedroom and check the time on my phone. 7:43, but it immediately changes to 7:44. Okay. Shit, shit, shit… now 7:45. No, no, no… now 7:46. This is the longest three minutes of my life, but I am not going back in that bathroom until the clock says 7:47. Please, please, please… 7:47. I walk slowly back into the bathroom and eye the thing on the counter like it will give me a hint. Suck it up, Ana! I take a deep breath and flip it over. And there they are, two pink lines. I grab the tester and look at it again. Two clear, definite pink lines. Black stars appear at the sides of my vision and my head feels fuzzy. Oh no… I sink to the floor and put my head between my knees until the feeling passes.
I wait a minute and then stand up and stagger into the living room, still clutching the tester in my hand. I sink onto the couch, cover up with my favorite fuzzy blanket, and flip on the TV, staring blankly at whatever fills the screen. Forrest Gump - perfect. It doesn't matter what's on the screen. I am watching my life as it passes before my eyes. My past… my present, which has been until this moment completely satisfying… and my future - oh no. No, I cannot go there. Sometime later - I don't know how long - but it's past dark, I hear Kate's keys jingling in the lock.
"Ana? What's going on? Why are you sitting in the dark?" She flips on the overhead lights and I blink in the sudden brightness. I feel groggy and numb. "Ana?" She asks again when she sees my face. "Ana, what's wrong?"
"I stole your pregnancy test. The one you had in your drawer." I say quietly.
"What?" She asks, sounding confused.
"Your extra pregnancy test. I stole it."
"Okay…"
I pull my arm out of the blanket and hand the tester to her. She glances down at it, lets out a slow breath, and sinks onto the couch beside me.
"How… I mean… oh, Ana. When did you…" It's a first. Kate Kavanagh is officially lost for words.
I cover my face with my hands and finally, the tears start to flow.
"Oh, Ana…. Please, talk to me. How on earth…"
"The party…. we… things… got a little, um, out of hand. And he, I mean we… were careful. At least I thought we were careful. I mean, he didn't… you know."
"He pulled out, you mean." She purses her lips. "Oh Ana… at the party? And it was your first time?"
I nod. Oh this is pathetic.
Kate starts to giggle. "Oh no, I'm sorry… it's just… I mean, that takes talent. Your first time, he pulled out, and you managed to get - you know - oh, I can't even say it."
"Pregnant, Kate. I'm pregnant. Knocked up. I just never thought those words would apply to me. To ME! Oh no…." And I start to cry again. Kate wraps her arms around me and we sit until I am all cried out - for now anyway.
"Oh Kate, what am I going to do?"
"You're going to be a mother, that's what. You're going to get all fat and round, and give BIRTH, and breastfeed… and have playdates…".
"Kate, STOP! Oh. My. Gosh. I mean what I am I going to do NOW? I have to tell him, right? I mean, it's still early… Maybe it won't even, you know, take. It might not even happen."
"Ana, you have to tell him. I mean, even if you didn't - you know - keep it. It'll always be this THING. I mean if it doesn't.. or if you… you know. I mean, unless you're planning on breaking up with him."
"Kate! No, and NO. I am not breaking up with him. And I am not doing THAT."
"Then you have to tell him, Ana. Don't put it off - it'll just make it worse. I'm sorry Ana…" And she wraps her arms around me once again.
After a little while, I thank Kate for being the best friend ever and say I am going to bed. I head into my room and check the time. 10:35. Shit, my phone… it's been sitting in here this whole time. It's only been three hours, but it feels like a lifetime. I feel spent, wrung out, and - yes - knocked up. Unbelievable.
I grab my phone and sure enough, there are two messages from him. Christian. The father of my child. Oh my.
9:27
Hey baby, hope you had a good day.
I can pick you up at your place at 5:30 tomorrow?
9:53
Ana, you there?
...
10:36
Hi - yes. 5:30 sounds good.
...
There you are. Are you ok?
...
Sorry. Didn't hear my phone.
Fine, just tired.
See you tomorrow.
XO
...
Ok. Goodnight, sleep tight.
X
...
Goodnight.
X
Oh boy, he knows something's up. But I am not in a playful texting mood. He will just have to sweat it out. It's not like I'm having the time of my life over here. I curl on my side, wrap my arms around my chest, and - thank goodness - I drift…