A/N ~ Whoa! Thanks for all the reviews and constructive criticism!
Thanks go out to the following reviewers: Design Girl, hgill, shelly belly,
chell, Admiral Lily, JoA Brazil, K, Faith, Innogen, and Rebelle European.
Special thanks to Sweetwater Gal, noavail, and maeve, for your extra
comments. Sweetwater - I reread it, and you're right about God being too
touchy-feely with Joan, it was definitely OOC, weird! Thanks for pointing
it out. I am really excited that you guys like the story, and I am glad
that I was able to clear up some of the confusion. I have an issue with
"wordiness", in case you hadn't noticed. =) There will be a few fluffy
moments in this chapter, but if you blink, you might miss them. So I hope
you all still like it after this chapter...let me know! Reviews keep my
fingers flying. =) Thanks!
The ride back to Adam's house was silent, as both contemplated the
jeopardy their youth was in. Secretly, Adam's chest burned with
excitement. The prospect of Joan carrying his child was so...wicked.
He knew better than anyone else that life is short, and what if one of
them went out and got struck by lightning or something? No matter what
happened, a child would forever bond the two of them, the way he stood
as a link between his father and mother, a relic, a proclamation of
their love. That's what this baby (if there was one) would be. Proof
that Jane loved him as much as he loved her...after all, she wouldn't
have slept with him if she hadn't. Right?
In the passenger seat, however, Joan was thinking of anything but Adam. She was still focusing on the inevitable fate she'd suffer once her parents found out. Not only that, but she was wracking her brain for any possible reason God could have for her to be pregnant. But what had He said? A consequence. Just because something was a consequence didn't make it a mission, did it? God certainly hadn't told Joan to sleep with Adam. But He was in charge of what babies are born when and all that stuff, wasn't He? And didn't consequences even have to have reasons? She was mad confused.
They finally arrived at Adam's house, and luckily, his father was working late. They had the house to themselves. As they went inside, Adam taking Joan's jacket, Joan's skin crawled in remembrance of the last time they had had the house to themselves. That was how they'd gotten into this mess in the first place.
"So...?" Adam called softly, tapping on the door with his knuckles.
Joan was hermited in the bathroom that adjoined to Adam's room, feeling dizzy. On the other side of the pale yellow door, Adam's throat had gone dry, and his hand trembled slightly as he lowered it after knocking.
"Tell me again what I'm supposed to look for?" Joan called back.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub, gripping the slender plastic stick in her hands, her eyes squeezed shut tightly. It wasn't that she didn't understand the test kit directions, which Adam had read to her twice before she went into the bathroom, refusing to let him come with her, but that she couldn't bring herself to look.
"Uh, if there's a blue line, then it's positive," Adam replied, holding the instructions in his tremoring hands.
Back in the bathroom, Joan's hands had begun to shake as well. Suddenly, she remembered what God had said to her back in the parking lot.
Keep your eyes open. Everything will be clear soon.
Taking a deep breath, Joan opened one eye, then the other. She looked at the little window on the pregnancy test, and saw a blue line, clear as a cloudless sky.
She slowly closed her eyes again, wondering why she was so shocked. God has basically told her she was pregnant. It was the consequence of she and Adam's actions, after all.
"Jane? Are you okay?" Adam asked, his voice slight as he tapped on the door again.
When she didn't answer, he opened the door, and poked his head inside. Upon seeing that she had sunk to the cold tile floor, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs, he went to her in one graceful movement. He didn't have to look at the test to know what it said. He wrapped his arms around her, and tried to calm her choking sobs. As sixteen year old Adam Rove huddled on his bathroom floor with the one person he loved more than he felt capable of loving, the news that she was pregnant with his child didn't bring him a single feeling of regret. But the fact that she was falling apart because of it made him feel like sobbing until his cries drowned out her own.
Adam let her cry for awhile, until he could stand it no longer. Then he spoke.
"Yo, Jane," he attempted softly.
She rubbed her index fingers under her eyes, trying to mop away the damp semi-circles, but they were simply replaced by fresh tears.
"It'll be all right," he continued, hoping that his words would affect her somehow. And they did.
"All right?! Adam, how will it be all right? This is like, the worst thing that could ever happen!" she cried in anguish.
Adam absorbed the impact of the words like a slap across the face. He pulled away from her slightly, and shook his head in awe.
"The worst thing that could ever happen?" he repeated. "I'm sorry, Joan, but I don't see the creation of a life as the worst thing that could ever happen. Some of us have had to deal with death, and I think that's way worse, yo, way worse."
Joan was stunned, both with her own inconsideration, and with the severity of Adam's tone. It was such a shock against the caring drone that he'd used only moments before. She'd struck a nerve, and now regretted it.
"Adam, I didn't mean-" she began feebly.
"Joan, why don't you figure out what you did mean before you try to explain it to me," he said, and retreated back to his bedroom.
~ ~ ~ ~
Adam had wanted to drive her home, but Joan had insisted on driving herself. She couldn't afford to let anything look like it was out of the ordinary. And she was still ashamed of herself for what she had said. She didn't kiss Adam goodbye when she left, and wouldn't look into his eyes. If she had, she would've seen into his soul, and she was having a hard enough time dealing with what was inside of herself right now.
"Where have you been?" Kevin crowed as Joan slammed the door behind her.
Joan didn't answer, instead, she stoically trudged up the stairs, leaving Kevin at the bottom, both irritated and worried.
Luke came in from the living room, and exchanged glances with Kevin.
"What's with the sub-defective?" he asked, jabbing a thumb at the staircase.
"I think you just answered your own question, bro," Kevin said, rolling his eyes, and wheeling himself away.
But Luke wasn't convinced. Even when Joan was in her moodiest moods, she still managed to snap back at her brother. Something was definitely up.
Upstairs, Joan had buried her face in her pillow, unable to contain her tears any longer. She'd managed to make it to her room, at least. Thank God she hadn't lost it in front of Kevin. He was already going to be suspicious. Oh well, she thought. In a few months, it won't matter anyway. Everyone will know. Everyone.
The thought brought on a new fleet of sobs, and Joan stuffed the pillow into her mouth to silence them. Consequence or no consequence, this shouldn't have happened to her.
Out of her tear-blurred eyes, she noticed the calendar. She realized that her parents would be home in two days.
"Oh, God." she yelped, her eyes overflowing for about the thousandth time.
Suddenly, she heard a small tapping noise. She looked around, and then heard it again. She determined that it was coming from her window, and as she looked over, she saw small pebbles hitting her windowpane.
Adam, she thought.
But when she got over to the window, it wasn't Adam at all. Instead, it was Cute Boy God again. She opened her window, and leaned out.
"You called?" He asked, his hands in his pockets.
Joan sniffled, and then seated herself on the windowsill, preparing to climb down.
"Do you really think that's a good idea in your condition?" God called.
Joan momentarily considered flinging herself to the ground, but figured that she was in enough trouble as it was. With her luck, she'd end up living, and having the "consequence" of ending up like Kevin. So she closed her window, and snuck stealthily down the stairs and out the back door.
Joan padded barefoot out into the backyard, and stood face to face with Cute Boy God.
"Same getup, twice in a row?" she asked, her voice frail and tired from wailing.
"Well, I thought the neighbors might find it strange if a fifty-three year old mail carrier was throwing stones at a teenager's window at eleven at night," God replied coolly.
"Just wait until they find out that the teenager is pregnant," Joan scoffed.
God smiled, being patient with Joan's lack of understanding.
"Look, Joan, I know this is a lot for a girl your age to deal with, but girls your age do, everyday," He said.
"So what? Is this some sort of empathy lesson for the girls who go and get knocked up everyday? 'Cause I kinda thought we already covered that with the whole cheerleading thing," Joan snapped.
"No-" God began.
"Oh, wait, yes, of course. It's not a lesson, it's a consequence," she said sarcastically.
"It's whatever you make of it, Joan," God said simply.
Joan pulled at a hangnail on her thumb.
"Adam is right, you know," God added. "Maybe you should consider yourself lucky. There are a lot worse things in life than life."
"That's great," Joan said. "But somehow I don't think my parents will see it that way."
"Why are you so afraid, Joan? It's not as if they're going to stop loving you. Of course they'll be angry, but their anger is just a side consequence of your actions," God said.
Joan felt anger bubbling up inside, but she set her jaw and fought it.
"Well, if I wouldn't have ended up this way, then they never would have had to know it even happened!" she exclaimed.
"So you would've lied to them? Joan, lying isn't ever the right choice. You know that," God said.
"Well, it's a whole lot better than my dad having a toxic heart attack when he finds out about this!" Joan cried.
God smiled reassuringly.
"Your father is not going to have a heart attack. Haven't you ever heard that I never give you more than you can handle?"
"Never until now," Joan retorted.
"You can handle this, Joan, I promise you. But you can't shut everyone out, including me. Talk to me, talk to Adam, talk to your parents. Talk to your parents with Adam. Maybe he can get to them with that whole life versus death speech. It's pretty good, you know," God said. "Especially since your parents had a brush with death not to long ago, remember?"
Joan nodded.
"Talk to them, Joan," God added. "They'll understand. Maybe not right away, but someday, they'll understand. And so will you."
A/N ~ ....and the verdict IS...(Review) =)
The ride back to Adam's house was silent, as both contemplated the
jeopardy their youth was in. Secretly, Adam's chest burned with
excitement. The prospect of Joan carrying his child was so...wicked.
He knew better than anyone else that life is short, and what if one of
them went out and got struck by lightning or something? No matter what
happened, a child would forever bond the two of them, the way he stood
as a link between his father and mother, a relic, a proclamation of
their love. That's what this baby (if there was one) would be. Proof
that Jane loved him as much as he loved her...after all, she wouldn't
have slept with him if she hadn't. Right?
In the passenger seat, however, Joan was thinking of anything but Adam. She was still focusing on the inevitable fate she'd suffer once her parents found out. Not only that, but she was wracking her brain for any possible reason God could have for her to be pregnant. But what had He said? A consequence. Just because something was a consequence didn't make it a mission, did it? God certainly hadn't told Joan to sleep with Adam. But He was in charge of what babies are born when and all that stuff, wasn't He? And didn't consequences even have to have reasons? She was mad confused.
They finally arrived at Adam's house, and luckily, his father was working late. They had the house to themselves. As they went inside, Adam taking Joan's jacket, Joan's skin crawled in remembrance of the last time they had had the house to themselves. That was how they'd gotten into this mess in the first place.
"So...?" Adam called softly, tapping on the door with his knuckles.
Joan was hermited in the bathroom that adjoined to Adam's room, feeling dizzy. On the other side of the pale yellow door, Adam's throat had gone dry, and his hand trembled slightly as he lowered it after knocking.
"Tell me again what I'm supposed to look for?" Joan called back.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub, gripping the slender plastic stick in her hands, her eyes squeezed shut tightly. It wasn't that she didn't understand the test kit directions, which Adam had read to her twice before she went into the bathroom, refusing to let him come with her, but that she couldn't bring herself to look.
"Uh, if there's a blue line, then it's positive," Adam replied, holding the instructions in his tremoring hands.
Back in the bathroom, Joan's hands had begun to shake as well. Suddenly, she remembered what God had said to her back in the parking lot.
Keep your eyes open. Everything will be clear soon.
Taking a deep breath, Joan opened one eye, then the other. She looked at the little window on the pregnancy test, and saw a blue line, clear as a cloudless sky.
She slowly closed her eyes again, wondering why she was so shocked. God has basically told her she was pregnant. It was the consequence of she and Adam's actions, after all.
"Jane? Are you okay?" Adam asked, his voice slight as he tapped on the door again.
When she didn't answer, he opened the door, and poked his head inside. Upon seeing that she had sunk to the cold tile floor, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs, he went to her in one graceful movement. He didn't have to look at the test to know what it said. He wrapped his arms around her, and tried to calm her choking sobs. As sixteen year old Adam Rove huddled on his bathroom floor with the one person he loved more than he felt capable of loving, the news that she was pregnant with his child didn't bring him a single feeling of regret. But the fact that she was falling apart because of it made him feel like sobbing until his cries drowned out her own.
Adam let her cry for awhile, until he could stand it no longer. Then he spoke.
"Yo, Jane," he attempted softly.
She rubbed her index fingers under her eyes, trying to mop away the damp semi-circles, but they were simply replaced by fresh tears.
"It'll be all right," he continued, hoping that his words would affect her somehow. And they did.
"All right?! Adam, how will it be all right? This is like, the worst thing that could ever happen!" she cried in anguish.
Adam absorbed the impact of the words like a slap across the face. He pulled away from her slightly, and shook his head in awe.
"The worst thing that could ever happen?" he repeated. "I'm sorry, Joan, but I don't see the creation of a life as the worst thing that could ever happen. Some of us have had to deal with death, and I think that's way worse, yo, way worse."
Joan was stunned, both with her own inconsideration, and with the severity of Adam's tone. It was such a shock against the caring drone that he'd used only moments before. She'd struck a nerve, and now regretted it.
"Adam, I didn't mean-" she began feebly.
"Joan, why don't you figure out what you did mean before you try to explain it to me," he said, and retreated back to his bedroom.
~ ~ ~ ~
Adam had wanted to drive her home, but Joan had insisted on driving herself. She couldn't afford to let anything look like it was out of the ordinary. And she was still ashamed of herself for what she had said. She didn't kiss Adam goodbye when she left, and wouldn't look into his eyes. If she had, she would've seen into his soul, and she was having a hard enough time dealing with what was inside of herself right now.
"Where have you been?" Kevin crowed as Joan slammed the door behind her.
Joan didn't answer, instead, she stoically trudged up the stairs, leaving Kevin at the bottom, both irritated and worried.
Luke came in from the living room, and exchanged glances with Kevin.
"What's with the sub-defective?" he asked, jabbing a thumb at the staircase.
"I think you just answered your own question, bro," Kevin said, rolling his eyes, and wheeling himself away.
But Luke wasn't convinced. Even when Joan was in her moodiest moods, she still managed to snap back at her brother. Something was definitely up.
Upstairs, Joan had buried her face in her pillow, unable to contain her tears any longer. She'd managed to make it to her room, at least. Thank God she hadn't lost it in front of Kevin. He was already going to be suspicious. Oh well, she thought. In a few months, it won't matter anyway. Everyone will know. Everyone.
The thought brought on a new fleet of sobs, and Joan stuffed the pillow into her mouth to silence them. Consequence or no consequence, this shouldn't have happened to her.
Out of her tear-blurred eyes, she noticed the calendar. She realized that her parents would be home in two days.
"Oh, God." she yelped, her eyes overflowing for about the thousandth time.
Suddenly, she heard a small tapping noise. She looked around, and then heard it again. She determined that it was coming from her window, and as she looked over, she saw small pebbles hitting her windowpane.
Adam, she thought.
But when she got over to the window, it wasn't Adam at all. Instead, it was Cute Boy God again. She opened her window, and leaned out.
"You called?" He asked, his hands in his pockets.
Joan sniffled, and then seated herself on the windowsill, preparing to climb down.
"Do you really think that's a good idea in your condition?" God called.
Joan momentarily considered flinging herself to the ground, but figured that she was in enough trouble as it was. With her luck, she'd end up living, and having the "consequence" of ending up like Kevin. So she closed her window, and snuck stealthily down the stairs and out the back door.
Joan padded barefoot out into the backyard, and stood face to face with Cute Boy God.
"Same getup, twice in a row?" she asked, her voice frail and tired from wailing.
"Well, I thought the neighbors might find it strange if a fifty-three year old mail carrier was throwing stones at a teenager's window at eleven at night," God replied coolly.
"Just wait until they find out that the teenager is pregnant," Joan scoffed.
God smiled, being patient with Joan's lack of understanding.
"Look, Joan, I know this is a lot for a girl your age to deal with, but girls your age do, everyday," He said.
"So what? Is this some sort of empathy lesson for the girls who go and get knocked up everyday? 'Cause I kinda thought we already covered that with the whole cheerleading thing," Joan snapped.
"No-" God began.
"Oh, wait, yes, of course. It's not a lesson, it's a consequence," she said sarcastically.
"It's whatever you make of it, Joan," God said simply.
Joan pulled at a hangnail on her thumb.
"Adam is right, you know," God added. "Maybe you should consider yourself lucky. There are a lot worse things in life than life."
"That's great," Joan said. "But somehow I don't think my parents will see it that way."
"Why are you so afraid, Joan? It's not as if they're going to stop loving you. Of course they'll be angry, but their anger is just a side consequence of your actions," God said.
Joan felt anger bubbling up inside, but she set her jaw and fought it.
"Well, if I wouldn't have ended up this way, then they never would have had to know it even happened!" she exclaimed.
"So you would've lied to them? Joan, lying isn't ever the right choice. You know that," God said.
"Well, it's a whole lot better than my dad having a toxic heart attack when he finds out about this!" Joan cried.
God smiled reassuringly.
"Your father is not going to have a heart attack. Haven't you ever heard that I never give you more than you can handle?"
"Never until now," Joan retorted.
"You can handle this, Joan, I promise you. But you can't shut everyone out, including me. Talk to me, talk to Adam, talk to your parents. Talk to your parents with Adam. Maybe he can get to them with that whole life versus death speech. It's pretty good, you know," God said. "Especially since your parents had a brush with death not to long ago, remember?"
Joan nodded.
"Talk to them, Joan," God added. "They'll understand. Maybe not right away, but someday, they'll understand. And so will you."
A/N ~ ....and the verdict IS...(Review) =)