It's very easy for Melissa to fake sick. Her mom leaves her alone mostly; she's not the fussing type. Her dad, who would have done the fussing, probably doesn't even notice now. Melissa waits for Darry to call from the moment she wakes up at 6:43 a.m. She knows Darry won't be up this early, but she waits. She has to throw up a couple of times and when it's just spit and bile coming out of her, she figures she better eat.
Toast makes her feel better, at least until she pukes that up. Darry doesn't call but at a quarter after nine, Melissa hears a knock on her terrace door. She can't get her head out of the toilet, but she manages a feeble "come in" and he does.
Darry is at her side immediately and he takes a hair tie from the sink and pulls her hair back into a messy ponytail. Melissa thinks it's sweet; it's the only kind of simple thought she can process now. When her stomach is empty again, Darry helps her up and waits close by as she washes her face and brushes her teeth. Darry is looking at her like she's going to fall on her face any second. She thinks she looks better than him, though. He doesn't look like he's slept at all, and she even managed a shower.
She smiles at him, but it's not sincere. It's polite. "Hey."
He reaches a hand around and rubs her back. "I guess it's stupid to ask how you are."
Yeah, it's stupid. Melissa just shrugs. "It was like this yesterday, too. It's not morning sickness either; it's all day long sickness."
Darry frowns and Melissa thinks how weird it is that she just talked about being pregnant like it was normal for her to be pregnant. Like a married couple, expecting their first baby. Melissa can't imagine feeling excitement over this. Melissa can't imagine anything past this moment anymore.
Darry can, because that's his personality and the first thing he says is, "Shouldn't we have an appointment or something with a doctor? To make it official?"
It isn't funny in a "ha ha" way, but Melissa laughs anyway. She hears herself; the sound is bitter and without mirth. "It's official whether we like it or not, Darry."
He gets annoyed at her sarcasm. She can tell by how he pushes his breath out and goes to put his hands in his pockets but then pulls them out again. There are so many little quirks about him that she knows, and not because anyone ever told her, but because she's watched him; studied him, because she's in love with him. She's thought about marrying him plenty of times and it's not like he's a bad catch. It's just a bad time.
She says, "Once I tell my mom, we'll get the doctor stuff sorted out."
When she says "we", she means her and her mom. Darry figures this out because he says, "I want to know, I mean, I want to come."
Melissa is oddly touched. She closes the space between them and he opens his arms to her. She wraps her arms around his middle. It's nice to hug him. She doesn't feel so alone.
In her ear, he says, "You'll marry me, right Mel?"
Melissa wasn't expecting a romantic proposal on bended knee, not in this situation anyway, but she wasn't expecting that, either. She pulls away without letting go of him completely and looks up at him.
"Is that what you want to do?"
Darry says, "Of course," like she's crazy to think otherwise. But maybe he realizes it's not so crazy because he adds, "Don't you?"
Her smile is sad. Bitter. She's never lied to him before and she isn't going to start now. She says, "I don't want any of this, Dar."
He nods. Maybe it's a little harsh, but she's pretty sure he understands. He wants A&M, and she reminds herself that no one would say it's horrible of him to say he's sorry to see that chance go. He hugs her close again and with her face buried in his shirt she says, "Yeah, I'll marry you, Dar."
Since she was a little girl, Melissa has dreamed of marrying and starting a family. She thinks most little girls have a vague idea of what they want for their future husband, wedding and house with a white picket fence. In a million years, Melissa never would have guessed she'd be agreeing to marry her boyfriend because she's sixteen years old, a junior in high school and knocked up.
The tears sneak up on her. She doesn't want to cry again but she can't stop. Darry strokes her hair. He kisses the top of her head and says, "We'll get through this, baby."
It makes her cry more and Melissa feels a wave of nausea so violent she shoves Darry away and runs for the bathroom. There's nothing in her stomach again, so she coughs and dry heaves and cries. Darry picks her up when she finally stills and carries her to bed.
Melissa snaps, "I'm not an invalid," but she doesn't really feel the anger behind the words. She just feels tired. Trapped. Helpless. She says, "I'm sorry, Darry."He shushes her and strokes her hair back. He's cradling her against him. She tries to be comforted. She can tell he's shaken. It only takes one look at his face to know that. But he's trying to do the right thing. Least she can do is let him.
Every Sunday night at eight o'clock, the Curtis's have a family meeting. Darry usually thinks it's stupid and a waste of time, but his mom and dad make them all get together and say anything that's on their minds or if they need anything scheduled for the next week or whatever. Every once in a while, Ponyboy will say he has a school project and could everyone save the egg cartons, or Sodapop will say the chocolate cake isn't sweet enough and could mom add more sugar. But mostly, it's just mom and dad talking at them and Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy just nodding listlessly, hoping it will be over soon so they can go back to watching Bonanza.
Boy, Darry sure has something to say this week, and he's wiped his hands on his jeans dozens of times while he's waiting for everyone to get in the living room, and they're still sweating. He's practiced eight billion different ways to broach the subject, but he's decided there is no other way than to just say it. He'll go last, he thinks, because if he goes first, then everything else that was going to be mentioned won't get mentioned at all.
His mom and dad look at him funny, and Darry just can't seem to act casual enough. Still, even after his mom asks twice, Darry keeps saying he'll go last and she goes through that week's general minutia (Soda's dentist appointment, people need to stop dropping their coats over the side of the couch) without taking her eyes off of him. When she's finished, and his dad and brothers have all vetoed their chance to broach a subject, Darry stands. He wipes his hands on his jeans again. His throat is dry.
"Melissa's pregnant," he says.
It just leaps off his tongue like it couldn't stand to be there any longer. He's sort of glad; he really can't keep processing this on his own anymore. There might be yelling and stuff at first, but he thinks it'll be nice to at least have his dad or Sodapop to talk to once all the commotion dies down.
Instead of commotion, there's dead silence. The clock on top of the television ticks at least thirty times before his mom, who has placed her hand in his dad's lap and their fingers are squeezing each other's tightly, says, "Are you sure?"
Darry nods. He sees both Ponyboy and Sodapop's faces have gone pale. His dad looks like he's choking on something, and his mom is starting to look pretty mad as it all sinks in. She stands up, and Darry braces himself. But it isn't his mom who yells at all. She just stands there, and in a second his dad is up beside her and he's gone a deep shade of red.
"Christ Darry! How could you let this happen?!"
Darry knows his dad is more proud of him than anyone about getting into A&M, and that not being able to go is going to devastate him as much as it does Darry. He's thought about it, but there's not exactly a whole range of choices now. He isn't sure if his dad's question is rhetorical. Darry thinks it's probably obvious that he didn't mean for Melissa to get pregnant, and it's not like he was going around having unprotected sex.
He says, "I was careful dad, I swear."
"Not careful enough," his dad snaps.
Darry feels like shit. His dad doesn't get upset all that often. It takes a lot to rattle him, and in Darry's almost-eighteen years, he's only heard his dad yell a handful of times. This is one of them. Darry hates that it's his fault that his dad is yelling and looks like the life has been sucked out of him.
"Soda, Pony, you go to your room now."
His mom. Darry looks sorrowfully at his brothers, and they echo his sentiment. Still, without talking back even a little bit, they get up and march down the hallway. Darry's parents don't speak until the door closes behind their youngest sons. Darry swallows. He's gonna get it now.
He doesn't expect it, but his mom bursts into tears. She sits back down on the couch with her head in his hands. Darry hadn't thought he could feel lower than he did a minute ago, but now he does.
"What does this mean for college?" she asks through her tears.
Darry sits down next to her. He wants to hug her but he's afraid. His father has placed himself on his mom's other side, and he's rubbing her back rhythmically. He's looking straight ahead. He looks like he could cry, too. Darry hopes he doesn't. He hopes sincerely that his father holds it together.
Before Darry can answer his mom's question, his father says, "You're going to do the right thing, Darrel."
As if Darry's considered just abandoning Melissa and skipping off to Texas A&M. He tries not to be offended by his father's tone of voice. He just nods and swallows down a lump in his throat. "I'm going to marry her," he tells them. His father nods, and his mother looks up at him and smiles grimly.
"Do you love her?"
Even if the answer was no, Darry thinks he'd marry her anyway. He thinks it's the right thing to do. But he can answer his mom honestly and says, "Yeah, I do."
She looks a little relieved. Darry is, too. If this had happened with Ashley, he'd be married to her right now and she's a world-class bitch. He'd be miserable.
"Look mom, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disappoint you, but I'm going to do what I have to do. As soon as I graduate I'll get a job. We'll get an apartment after we're married and maybe Mel can finish school with those correspondence courses or something." He looks helplessly at her. "What are those called?"
Darry isn't even trying to address his father anymore. It's easier talking to his mom, for once. He'd honestly expected the opposite. He'd expected his dad to be calm and his mom to flip.
"Graduation equivalency diploma. GED, they call it." His mom sounds tired, but she's started to focus. The shock is wearing off. Darry's glad. He likes to operate in what Melissa calls "fix it mode". He doesn't like to sit around and think about what could have been. He likes to deal with the here and now.
"I probably could still get into Tulsa University. Maybe take some classes at night," Darry says hopefully.
His father says, "Texas A&M will defer your enrollment and scholarship for a year."
Darry hasn't even considered that. He can't go to college and play football, this fall or next. They don't let you have a job if you play football, and without a job he can't support his wife and baby.
Wife and baby. It feels like someone has poured ice water down his back. He doesn't have to answer his father because his mother says, "Darrel, it's over. He can't do that now."
When Darry goes to bed that night, he'll his his mother's words in his head. It's over. He can't do that now.
It's over.
It's over.
It's over.
Darry puts his face into his pillow and bites down hard.
TBC...
Thanks to those of you that take time to review!