"No. Thank you , officer. " My mother says as she shuffles the last co pout of the door. He smiles and shuts the door behind him. My mother turns back to me.
"I'm just glad you're safe, honey. Are you OK?" She asks for the one trillionth time.
"Yes mom! I'm fine! Not like you care anyway.." I say the last bit under my breath. However she hears me and scoffs.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She says with an eyebrow raised.
"You don't care! I've been pregnant for almost 4 months now and you haven't scheduled a sonogram, birthing classes, doctor's appointments,. All because you're out canoodling with your rich friends drinking booze and screwing young guys while your daughter is at home. Alone." I say. My mother seems to be getting more outraged with every word I spit at her
"Ha! You think you know alone, kid? The same thing happened to me. My parents didn't want anything to do with me. They paid me to stay in the house everyday for 9 months while I was pregnant with you. They were too embarrassed to care about me or you. And when you were born... ," She pauses, scoffs, rolls her now moist eyes and blinks. " they didn't even show up. I went through labor alone. And they sent me a 'Get Well Soon' card. I know alone." This statement alone angers me to no end. How dare she. She's repeating old habits of her parents.
"Then why would you do it to me!?" I scream. " You are such a fucking hypocrite you know that? You think I need to learn tough love? You think I need to learn a goddamn lesson? Well, guess what? There's nothing you can teach me that I don't already know. I learned my damn lesson when I got pregnant. So whats your real excuse? Why are you such a terrible mother?" I snark. My mother looks away. Not necessarily hurt by my words. But instead shielding herself from the truth.
"Because I ruined you! I know I did. With all this sleeping around and clubbing and partying and a father? You never had a father. But he abandoned us. He knew, and he left me. Told me that it wasn't his baby even though he was my first. If not for me none of this would have ever happened..." She trails off as she sits down next to me.
"That wouldn'tve changed anything. I still would've went to that party, got drunk, had sex, and gotten pregnant. It all still would've happened. You can't blame yourself for that. Because I take full responsibility."
"That's the thing. You're seventeen. You shouldn't have to."
"I'm seventeen and pregnant. Yes, I do ha-"
"Kim! There you are!" Julie barges in the door. I stutter. She looks over her shoulder.
"She's here guys!"
Damn. They found me. They crowd in to the living room and form a semi-circle around me. They begin to bombard me with questions.
"Did he drug you?"
"Are you okay?"
"How did your legs just suddenly work?"
"Kim are you really pregnant?"
"ENOUGH. Goddammit." I sigh. Everyone is taken aback. My mother doesn't even try to reprimand me on my vulgar word choice .
"Kim, we were just-" Julie starts.
"Just what? Bothering me? Goal accomplished." I snap.
"I know you're irritable because of the preg-"
"Don't say it."
Silence. Jack clears his throat and walks over to the TV. He clicks it on and turn to channel 6. The news. He turns back to me, his body shielding the TV.
"You seen this?" He asks. I shake my head as he retreats to the couch. On the screen is Mr. Sachar being put into handcuffs and escorted into a police car. Behind the car are the POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS yellow tape and a certain face stands out. I snatch the remote from Jack and turn up the volume.
"It was on this fateful night that Kim Crawford, A high-schooler from Seaford High, dropped by Sachar's office to discuss ' technicalities' with her case. We don't know the gritty details now , but there's seems to have been an altercation between the teenager and the lawyer in which he attacked her. She fled the scene and now resides in her home awaiting a call from the police. " The news correspondent says. But I'm focused on the familiar face behind the yellow
Is that-
Someone bursts through the door.
Ryder.
"How could you do that?! How could you lie on my dad like that?!" Ryder screams from the doorway. I look down and shake my head.
"What did he tell you?" I ask.
"He said you came onto him and that he pushed you off of him. And then you started hitting him and then ran out! I trusted you! My dad is going to jail because of you!"
I try to remain calm.
"That's not what happened. Not even a little." I sigh. My aloofness only makes him angrier he storms over to me and grabs my shoulders.
"Then what happened, huh?! What in the fuck happened?!" He shakes me violently.
"Get your hands off of her!" Jack says. Ryder looks up and laughs .
"You Jack?" Ryder asks.
"Are you the father of her baby?" Jack spits back. I internally groan. Shit. Ryder looks at me and back to Jack. "Are you the dick that abandoned, Kim!?" Jack screams coming a bit closer to Ryder. Julie and Milton move out of the line of fire. I stand up. Ryder looks at me and Jack in confusion.
"Jack. Stop."
"No, Kim! I'm not gonna stop until this guy steps up and takes responsibility for his kid!" Jack grabs Ryder's collar who is so confused he doesn't even fight back.
"Its not his kid! Its yours!" I yell. The room silences. Jack lets go of Ryder and looks at me. A thousand things seem to cross his mind all at once. He's remembering that night and I can tell that he's putting the pieces together.
"Kim, I-"
"Please, all of you, leave me alone. I need to be alone." I run up to my room and lock the door. Once there I lean against my door ans slip slowly to my carpeted floor and begin to cry. Someone knocks on the door.
"Kim! Kim please! We need to talk!"
"Leave me alone!" I choke between sobs." Just leave me alone..." I break off.
"Kim!"
"Go home, Jack! I don't want to talk to you or Ryder or Mom or Eddie or Milton or Julie or Mika or Jerry. I want to be alone! Why won't you let me be alone? I don't want to talk." I say through the door. The pounding stops.
"Then I'm going to stay here until you do." He says finally. I feel him slide along the other side of the door with a thud.
"Fine."
"Fine."
…
I have to pee.
I've had to pee all night.
Which is supremely unfortunate, considering the fact I can hear Jack's breathing against my mahogany door. Instead of stepping back and thinking of a rational plan, I do the first thing that pops into my mind: run. By the time Jack's head has hit the floor that used to be covered by my bedroom door, I'm in the bathroom, door locked tight. Good plan, Kimmy, I think to myself. Good plan.
I'll spare you the awkward details of my 15-minute peeing session and 10 minute shower. You're welcome. But Jack's awake now. And I don't have anywhere else to hide. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm usually not the cussing type, but, JESUS CHRIST, this was kind of a big thing for me to deal with right now.
I check the time in an attempt to occupy my mind. It reads 11:30. I almost slept till noon and no one bothered to wake me up. If this was one of the benefits of pregnancy, then maybe my life didn't suck that bad. Wait...11:30?! My mind goes frantic as I pull on the clothes I can find in the bathroom; an oversized t-shirt with some stupid inspirational quotes and junk, and a pair of leggings. Appropriate outfit for a pregnant girl? I would think so.
A week or so ago, I had promised Jerry I would be there for him when the immigration officer came to the prison and interviewed him and Mika. Which is supposed to happen at 12:00. The prison is halfway across town.
Despite the fact that I was going through a tiny little life-altering crisis, I had still made a promise. And I never, ever break my promises; especially not the ones I make to my friends. There is only one option, with Jack outside the bathroom door, threatening to break it down. "You sure do know how to treat 'em, Jackie!" I yell, hoping to stall.
"Kim, please! I really think-"
"Oh, God, don't do that. Nothing good ever comes from that." I reply.
But back to the only option: the window. I, a pregnant young woman, was about to fling myself out of a 2nd floor bathroom window to avoid my baby daddy.
And they called me boring in kindergarten.
I slowly climb out the propped open window, latching my foot onto the latter of vines clinging to our old house. Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God—save me. Just a couple more inches...
And I'm off the ladder, praying to gods I'm not even sure exist. I mean, for some reason, I doubt the goddess/god of "omg dear lawd do not let this bitch take me out" is real. Soon enough, my feet are on the ground and I'm running again.
I swear, that kid should have been born with Nike's on.
…
I barge through the large doors to the prison, breathless and sweaty. I let my vision adjust to the lobby of the jail. I storm over to the information desk manned by Bertha. We'd met the last time I was here. Sure she has a uni brow, lipstick on her teeth, breath that smells like death, chronic pizza-face, and an unfortunate muffin top; but under that aesthetically displeasing exterior there is a genuinely nice personality. She smiles at me.
"Hey, Kim! We still hanging out tomorrow?" She says as she checks me in. I scratch my head awkwardly.
"Look, Bertha, I've got a lot of stuff to take care of. I don't think we can hang tomorrow. But can you hurry up? I think Jack followed me here."
Her face drops however , she plasters a fake smile on. "Its cool. Maybe later."
Great, you hurt an ugly girl's feelings. Why don't you go drown some puppies while you're at it?
"Kim!"
I oscillate at the sound of my name. In the doorway stands Jack making his way over to me. I turn quickly to Bertha, tapping the desk to make her hurry. She sees him too, and fumbles with the pass. It falls to the ground. How badly I want to loom over the desk and grab for it myself and be on my way. By the time Bertha has retrieved it, Jack has made his way over to me.
"Hello, Kim." Jack says with an almost smirk. I roll my eyes so far into the back of my head I could see my brain. (Okay so that's not anatomically correct , but whatever. You get the point.) Jack sets his helmet on the desk. He looks at Bertha who is drooling at him.
"Hey,Bertha." Jack smiles falsely and winks.
Bertha seems to go inward as she smiles awkwardly. Add another eye roll here. " Hi, J-Jack."
Jack laughs as if she'd just said the funniest thing on earth. " Nice to see you, again. You wouldn't mind giving Kim and I a little time alone, would you?"
I shake my head vigorously at her. No, Bertha. Don't do this, Bertha. But all she sees is Jack.
Bertha's eyes soften and she sighs. " Yeah, sure. Whatever you want." And with that she leaves. Jack watches her walk into the employees lounge before he turns to me. Charming smile now gone.
"We need to talk."
"No we don't."
"Yes we do."
"Grow up, Jack."
"You first." He snaps quickly. I frown at this. "I've been trying to talk to you since last night and what have you been doing? Jumping out of windows and speeding on your motorcycle! You're being childish, not me. I'm trying to sort out this situation and you don't want to sit down for one moment and talk about it." He says almost as if he was talking to an annoying child or dog or something.
"No! You had your chance to talk at the hospital." I retort. He seems very confused.
"What are you talking about?" He says, genuinely baffled.
"At the hospital," my voice begins to break. " You asked me who the father is. And I couldn't believe you. How many guys do you think I've slept with, huh?"
He is at a loss.
"It was you and only you. The fact that you came in there and hadn't figured it out is one thing, but almost an entire month went by! You never called or texted me-"
"How can you resent me for something that I didn't even know? Huh? I didn't know how many guys you'd slept with. I didn't do the math and I'm sorry! But you can't blame me. You had a hundred chances to tell me! And somehow its my fault?!"
"Yes it is! You're my best friend. If I had slept with somebody you'd have known! We tell each other everything! That wasn't a red flag to you!? That I hadn't talked to you in weeks about any guy but Ryder, and even then our relationship is entirely platonic!? You're fucking dull , you know that?"
Jack looks truly hurt at my choice of words. He squeezes his eyebrows. Shit, I really crossed the line.
"I'm dull? Really? I didn't get pregnant. You did."
Oh, look. Now we both crossed the line.
We glare at each other for what seems like hours.
"Uh, Kim? Kim Crawford?" A security officer sticks his head through the door to the main meeting room. I break my glare from Jack and to the man in the door. He registers that I am in fact Kim Crawford and begins to speak:
"Uh, Mika won't talk to the Interviewer unless you're in there. " He says. I quickly wipe the sweat off my forehead. And bump past Jack to the door.
"Real mature, Kim!" he calls after me.
"You would know!" I I throw over my shoulder
…
They put Mika and Jerry in two separate rooms. I stayed with Mika and Jack stayed with Jerry. The questions started out easy, things that even I know like:
The questions started out easy. Simple thing that even I knew such as:
"What is your partner's full name and address?"
"What is your partners date of birth?"
"When and Where did you meet Jerry?"
"Describe in detail your first meeting with Jerry Martinez."
Then they became much more difficult:
"Does Jerry have any pets? If so what are their names genders and ages?"
"How does Jerry organize his room? Where does he keep his clothes? How clean is it?"
"Which side of the bed does Jerry sleep on?"
"Where does he work? How much does he get paid? What are his hours?"
But Mika seemed to breeze through these questions with flying colors. Throughout all of this all I could think about was Jack. I shouldn't have said what I said. And he's right, I no right to be angry with him. He didn't know because I didn't tell him. Not because he's ….stupid. But why did he get so offended.
"Alright, Mika. After the way you just performed I'm pretty sure that these questions will be a piece of cake." The interviewer says. She hadn't even told us her name. Protocol or something. So onward we went.
"Have you and Jerry consummated?"
Mika stutters. The interviewer looks up at her with a puzzled look then marks something on her paper.
"Does Jerry have any children?"
Some more stuttering. Another note taken.
"When did you and Jerry first have intercourse?"
"How many times after that?"
I stare at Mika's back, utterly confused. Does she realize what could happen if she failed this thing? When the interview is over the Interviewer pulls me aside.
"Look, I'll try my best to do something to help. Its obvious that she loves Jerry very much. But those last few questions...What happened?"
I shake my head at the stressful situation and glance over at Mika, now in citizen's attire waiting patiently for me.
"I honestly have no idea." I sigh.
"Well, until I can get back to you guys on whether its approved, go on with the wedding plans. " She glances over to Mika and back to me. "I'll do my best. Girls like Mika, they don't come along too often."
I smile at this. The interviewer shakes my hand and then leaves on her merry way. I walk over to Mika. She smiles sweetly as if the altercation we'd had last month hadn't even happened. I decide to smile back. No use crying over spilled milk.
"Jerry and Jack aren't out yet?" I ask her.
She shakes her head and looks at the meeting room that Jerry is in expectantly, biting her lip and twiddling her fingers. Almost as if on cue Jerry emerges and Jack right after him. We share awkward glances. Mika and Jerry, however waste no time, bounding into each other's arms in slow motion. They peppered each other with kisses. Jack and I stood shoulder to shoulder not saying a word. He's still angry with me. I can feel it. As we make our way to the parking lot I wave to Mika and Jerry who don't seem to notice as they are currently hardcore making out. I groan as I walk up to my motorcycle, grabbing my helmet. Someone grabs my arm I snatch my forearm and whip around.
"Hey what's the big-"
Jack.
He takes my helmet and puts it down on the handlebar.
"No." He says simply. I furrow my brow.
"No, what?"
"No, you're not riding that motorcycle. Not for 5 months." He says sternly. His face hard and wrinkled. He seems serious.
"Oh, yeah? You're not my dad, don't tell me what to do." I retort trying to snatch back my helmet. Jack extends his arm length so I can't reach it.
"You're right, I'm not your dad. But am his dad. Now get in the van." He says pointing to my mom's minivan. I huff some air out of my nose before I bump past Jack and walk over to the car. I see that its already unlocked so I ease into the passenger's seat. Jack gets into the driver's seat and screeches his way out of the parking lot.
"What about my bike?"
"We'll get it tomorrow."
He looks forward at the road, with the sun blaring into his almond orbs. His body doesn't move or twitch. Not even once. Why did I agree to get into this Minivan of Awkward Silence..? Jack drives on, past my house, past his house, to a ramshackle RV in the middle of a deserted trailer park. He stops the car, but doesn't get out, or look at the house.
"Jack, why are we here...?" I ask rolling up my window to keep out a swarm of gnats.
"I used to live here. With my dad."
I pause. Jack never talks about his father. Never ever. Jack continues. Dryly he says:
"He was a professor, you know the one's that work a t colleges and stuff? But then my mom left him, and he just fell apart. Lost his job, and drank beer all day. And I would come home to this," He pauses and glances at the RV but retracts his vision as if the memories hurt. His eyes water. " this shithole. Every goddamn day. I would bring home my homework and at first my dad helped me. Because I just could not get the hang of math. The number got all switched around in my brain. When he started drinking he still helped, but he got frustrated so easily with me. And then he would get violent-"
"Jack, Jack please. Stop."
But he doesn't hear me pleading with him, begging him to stop hurting himself.
"Well, at first it was the wall. I had to fill in that same hole every single day for weeks. Then it was the table. Then he started throwing dishes. And then one day, after months, he got fed up. He ransacked the house until he found a belt. And he hit me. Over and over and over-"
"Jack, please."
"It hurt so bad, Kim. Have you ever felt like your skin was on fire? Have you ever rather died than go on living? And you know what the worst part was? The entire time he would shout "YOU'RE FUCKING DULL, YOU KNOW THAT?!" And then the next day he would buy me ice cream and act like nothing had happened." He began to weep. Hand gripping the steering wheel for dear life.
"It went on like this for years. Until I was about 10. Then social services stepped in and set me up with a nice lady named . It wasn't long before Mom adopted me. After that they realized what I have is called dyscalculia. Its like dyslexia but with numbers. I haven't seen my dad in 7 and a half years. You're the first person I've ever told this too."
"Jack... I'm so sorry-"
"And you know what? That's not gonna happen to my kid. I want my kid to have a dad. A real biological dad." He starts crying again, hunching over the wheel .
I unbuckle my seat belt and climb onto his lap sideways. His arms wrap around me and he sobs into my chest.
"We'll raise this baby, Jack. Together. No matter what."
Together.