A/N: Just as an FYI, there was a typo in chapter one which said "September" and should've been "October." That's fixed now, but just in case anyone was keeping track, I don't want everyone to be a month off in the perceived timeline. Also, I just wanted to give a nice shout out to BasicHBKnomics. Your enthusiasm over this story makes me really happy and I'm so glad you're enjoying the "Who's the Daddy?" play in this story. Thanks!
Turning Tables
What Haven't You Done To Me?
"I'll kill him! I'm going to fucking kill him!" Adrian was alone in her convertible with the top up, allowing the tears to stream down her face. After leaving the free clinic, she'd taken a coastal drive for a few hours before returning home, but she wasn't ready to face her mother just yet, with the news that she was still pregnant, so she had opted to vent her emotions alone in the parking lot.
All she could think of was how much Ben had no right to tell her what she could and couldn't do with her body, even if the baby was his. Which it might not be. "Could just as easily be Ricky's," she said aloud, ready to punch on the horn until she considered the fact that it might wake her nosy neighbors who already were not fans of her and her mother. And then something struck her: Ricky's. She recalled something she had used against Ben earlier at the clinic, about being tied to her for the next eighteen years. If, by some miracle, the baby was Ricky's, then the same would apply: Ricky would be tied to her for the next eighteen years. Adrian forced her head against the headrest. As dismal as the idea of pregnancy was – pregnancy as a teen statistic in high school – the idea such a bond with Ricky was somewhat appealing.
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"She's pregnant, Henry."
"What?"
"Adrian. She's pregnant!" Ben was pacing around his room: he'd start on the left side of his bed, loop around to the right, pass in front of the closed door, move to his desk, slip into the bathroom, slip out of the bathroom to where he'd started, and then rinse and repeat. The whole time, his cell phone was pressed firmly to his ear like a life support system.
"How do you know?" Henry's anxious voice filtered through the speaker.
"When I was at the clinic, I saw her there!"
"Geeze, man! Why didn't you tell me earlier?"
"Like I had time!" Ben snarled. "I wasn't going to tell you with my dad's driver listening! Come on, Henry!" Ben stopped in front of his bathroom door and thudded his forehead against the wood.
"But how do you know she was there because she's pregnant and not because she's got crabs or something?"
"I saw the papers she was filling out," Ben groaned. "Don't ask how, it's a long story and I don't feel like rehashing it, but I did. She was there for an abortion."
There was silence on the line for a moment and Ben was almost sure Henry as hung up, then Henry answered: "Well, I told you she wasn't the type of girl to let herself be pregnant. Not that I'm saying that's a good choice or anything that is, but you are a Freshman in high school who had a one night stand with a girl you don't even know, so…"
"She didn't get it."
"What?"
"She didn't go through with it. She didn't have the abortion! How more clear can I be?"
"Why not?"
"I – I stopped her."
"You what?"
"It was a kneejerk reaction! I didn't mean to even know what she was there for, I was just scared to see her there and I…kinda got all over her case." He struck his head against the door again. "It was an accident."
"You have got to quit having those," Henry's voice groaned.
"What should I do?" Ben asked, his voice miniscule and desperate, like the whimper of a newborn pup.
"Nothing."
Ben began to pace again. "Excuse me? Adrian's pregnant and I'm suppose to do nothing?"
"Let Adrian do what she's gonna do and just stay out of her business."
"I've made it my business."
"No you haven't. You've probably just pissed her off. I mean, it's not like she suddenly changed her mind about having the baby, did she?"
"She just stormed off."
"Alright then. See? I was right, she's just mad. So don't do anything, don't get in her way again, just let her do what she wants. Unless she seeks you out."
"And if she seeks me out?"
"Then I've got no clue."
Ben groaned and fell back onto his bed. "Goodbye, Henry." He tossed his phone onto his pillow and curled into the fetal position. "What the hell have I gotten myself into?"
The door creaked. "I'll say."
Ben flash froze at the sound of his father's voice. "Dad-"
"I overheard your conversation with Henry, son."
Ben sat up so fast he looked possessed. "You mean you were eavesdropping!"
"I merely came up here to ask you how the movies were and I overheard you talking about a girl being pregnant," Leo refuted. "And while I am willing to grant you your privacy, you're still my underage son and this is still my house, so I have every right to 'eavesdrop' if I see fit! And hearing words like 'pregnant' and 'abortion' coming out of my son's mouth – my son who has only just been dating his first girlfriend for a little over a month – is certainly cause for my concern!"
"Amy's not pregnant!"
"Then who is?" Leo demanded. "And what has she got to do with you?" He folded his arms. "And why were you at a free clinic in the first place?"
Ben folded up his arms. "I'm sorry, dad, but this is none of your business."
Leo seemed to process those words for a moment, then shook his head. "Well I'm sorry you feel that way, because I'm only trying to help." He rounded his son's bed and snatched up his cell phone. "I'll take this, then. And except for school, you can expect that the only room you'll be staying in is this one, until you can understand that you and all of your affairs until you are eighteen are my business." Leo turned to walk out, then paused and picked up Ben's laptop bag too.
"Hey!" Ben yelped. "I need that for school!"
"Then I'll return it when you can show me your assignments where you need Internet resources and I'll sit in here with you while you do them." Leo didn't wait for Ben to respond before leaving.
When the door shut, Ben thrust his fists into his pillow in a fit of frustration. If the disappointment in his father's eyes when he asked Ben who was pregnant was anything to go by, Ben didn't know how he could live with the disappointment that would fill them if he told his father the rest of the truth.
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Adrian's fingertips pounded against the keys of her cell phone: You wanna meet up? She hovered her thumb over the Send button, debating whether or not she felt well enough to actually follow through if Ricky replied back. She was going to stave off going home for as long as possible. Biting the tip of her tongue, she punched the button and her phone replied by informing her that her text had been sent. Anxiously, Adrian dropped the phone into her lap and reclined her seat, staring at the roof of her convertible.
Verging on ten minutes later, the cell vibrated against Adrian's thigh and she grabbed it without sitting up. Hands shaking, she opened her text message file and Ricky's response appeared on screen: Can't. Going 2 the football game.
Adrian scowled. Football? You don't even like football, you like baseball. She clicked her tongue, wondering if she should add anything else. Or delete the last three words. Thirty seconds later, she sent it as it was.
Three minutes later: Grace is cheering.
And when Little Miss Goody Two Shoes calls, you have to answer? Adrian's fingers hurt from the rush of typing in such a short, harsh amount of time. The thought of using text speak crossed her mind, but being as good as English as she was, it was one of the few things she didn't like taking short cuts with. She sent it, and as an afterthought, sent an addendum: Never mind. I already know the answer to that.
Don't B like that. Jack's been bothering her, she asked me 2 come 2 keep him away.
She rolled her eyes dramatically. And I'm sure seeing her in her tight little cheer uniform had NOTHING to do with it! She pressed the Send button again and, rather than waiting for Ricky's response, she turned off her phone and plugged her key into the ignition. Adrian wasn't sure where she was going yet, but she needed to get away. Far away.
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Bright and early Saturday morning, Ben woke to the incline of his mattress and realized his father was waiting for him on the opposite side of the bed. "What?" he asked, his vision blurry as he rolled over. His dad was the last person he wanted to see this weekend.
Leo held up Ben's cell phone. "I looked at your call history last night," he spoke calmly. "I just got back from the Millers'; had a nice little talk with Henry this morning."
Ben felt the heat rush to his face like a sunburn. "I can't believe Henry told you!"
"I explained to him that although I care about him a great deal, I didn't think it would be a good idea for him to come over again until the matter with you was taken care of and if he didn't want to help in that endeavor, that was his choice to make. So after speaking with his parents, he decided to tell me what he knew."
"And what was that?" Ben demanded, his voice as rough as sandpaper.
"He told me about the free clinic. And about Adrian."
Ben shook his head. "That's the last time I'm ever telling Henry anything important ever again!"
Leo bent over and retrieved a massive phone book from the floor, which he dropped with a flopping thud onto Ben's bed. A small bookmark was sticking of out it, somewhere in the middle, and the older man opened it up to that point. Two pages: Leach – Lee and Lee – Leggett. Leo tapped the first name, highlighted in yellow marker: Lee, A.
"This is ridiculous! She might not even be listed! She might not even have a house phone for crying out loud!"
"She might not," Leo agreed. "But this is where we'll start and if we don't find her this way, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
"Why are you doing this?" Ben screamed. "It's not fair!"
"Benjamin!" Leo spoke sternly. "When a man gets someone pregnant, they are responsible. You are responsible!"
"She was going to get an abortion for a reason!"
"And are you telling me you're okay with that?" Leo crossed his arms in the face of Ben's guilty silence. "And even if you are," he continued, "it's still your responsibility to take care of any expenses Adrian may incur until and for such a procedure. And if she were to choose not to have the procedure for any reason, then you remain responsible throughout the pregnancy and whatever may or may not come after it."
Ben lifted his hands to his face, covering it completely and shaking his head into them. "It was just a stupid mistake," he mumbled into the crack between his palms.
"Be that as it may, you still made a choice, son. Have you stopped to think that maybe if Adrian had the support she deserves, she wouldn't have been looking into abortion in the first place?"
"The support she deserves? She was the one who seduced me!"
"Did she assault you? Did she drug you?"
"No, but-"
"Then you still could've said no."
"There's such a thing as pressure, Dad. And believe it or not, a girl can pressure a guy."
"I don't disagree with you, but still, what's done is done and you still had sex. Now there are three lives tied up in it and you have to deal with those consequences before you can move forward." He pointed to Ben's cell. "So start dialing."
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The birds were chirping and there was a breezy draft blowing across the rooftop when Adrian opened her eyes. The sky was a brilliant shade of azul, polka dotted with clouds like wads of stuffing from a teddy bear and dripping with the last rainbow sherbet rays of the sunrise. It served as a stark reminder of the way her childhood was disappearing into the past.
Adrian shivered and rolled over. She was in the fetal position, covered only by a leather jacket she'd had in the backseat of her convertible. Certainly not a sleeping bag or blanket or even a pillow. Her neck felt stiff, not unlike a piece of licorice that had been left open to the air all night, and her limbs ached when she rose. Nothing felt like it should; like it used to.
The rooftop looked smaller. She hadn't been there in over a year, since the summer before her Freshman year of high school. It was the building she'd, more or less, grown up in, where she'd spent seven years living next to a boy she'd loved. "Antonio." As the name fell off her lips, Adrian pressed her hand to her chest, her heart. Her eyes held the spot where she'd slept. It was the same place she'd lost her virginity when she was fifteen, in pair of sleeping bags, to her very best friend.
"I always thought we'd get married," she whispered to the wind. "I always thought that you'd be mine forever and that when I found myself carrying a child, it would be yours." She looked up, eyes drowning like a child lost in the ocean. "Can you hear me, Antonio? Where ever you are right now: can you hear me? I love you. I still love you!" Adrian dropped to her knees, skinning them against the cement roof. Tears fell like rain, splashing against the cement, forming a maze of irregularly shaped dark gray spots.
"What do I do? You were supposed to be The One! And now you're gone and I'm still here and I'm stuck with someone else's baby and I don't even know who's. I don't want this. None of it. I'd give it all back in an instant if I could have you back. Even for just a minute. For a second! I want you! I've always wanted you. Help me. Por favor, ayúdame."
A half an hour later, when it seemed she had no more tears left to cry and she'd drawn herself up into a compact ball on the roof of her old apartment building, Adrian finally reached into her pocket and retrieved her cell phone. It was still off. She turned it on and waited, staring at her reflection in the LCD screen as it booted up. Her skin felt tight and hurt when she blinked and her puffy face looked no better than it felt. A moment after the cell phone's background appeared, it began to vibrate in her palm, alerting its owner of nine new messages.
Three were from Ricky, two from Friday and one from Saturday. The first: It's not like that, we're just friends. The second: Maybe we could hang out 2morrow. And the third: What's ^? Wanna get 2gether 2night?
Five were from her mother: It's getting late, where are you? Dated an hour after it: Adrian, are you okay? Twenty minutes later: Adrian, please call or text me. I'm really worried about you! Then another hour later, two back-to-back: Adrian, did something go wrong with the procedure? Are you OK? I'm really worried about you! And finally: Chica, I love you. Please just let me know that you're alright, I'm in a tailspin.
And the final one was unimportant, some boy she'd hooked up with a few times before she went to the majorette retreat over the summer who had broken up with his girlfriend and wanted a night with no strings attached. Adrian quickly deleted the latter and typed up a very simple I'm fine and sent it to her mother. Then she returned to her and Ricky's chat. His last message had only come in a half an hour before she woke up. What are you doing now?
His reply came more quickly than she'd anticipated: English essay.
I like English.
I don't need help.
She hated that he always had to play games. Didn't say you did. Like and need are two different things, look 'em up.
U didn't text me back last night.
I was busy. Besides, what was there to reply to anyway? You were 'protecting' Grace and I was busy. We were both busy.
Are we back 2 that again?
Back to what?
Grace.
Adrian shook her head. Sorry I replied at all. Just finish you're fucking essay.
Don't B that way! I can get away in a couple hours, OK? Is that good enough for U?
Where? My mom's home; got back early. Your house?
No. There was a pause in between his texts. Dairy Shack.
The last thing Adrian wanted to do was eat, but she agreed anyway, because she didn't know what else to do.
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"Hello?"
"Hi," Ben replied somberly. His cell phone was on his bed, on the speaker phone feature. "Is Adrian available?"
"She's not here right now…"
Ben's face blanched. It was the first time he'd gotten a hold of a residence that had an Adrian Lee.
"Who is this?"
"Uh…" Ben looked at his father, who nodded. "A friend," he lied. "B-Ben."
"Ben?" The woman's voice on the other end of the line was suddenly high and suspicious. "She's not here right now, I don't know when she'll be back." Then the line was dead.
Leo extracted a highlight from his shirt pocket and highlighted the name. "There's no address, so we'll have to try back again later. But until then, keep calling until we finish the list."
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Not a half an hour later, Adrian slipped into her mother's number three condo through the front door and headed straight for the bathroom, only to be intercepted halfway there. Her stomach fell as Cindy stared her down.
"Where have you been?"
"Out."
"You had me worried sick!"
"I know!" Adrian snapped back. "And I'm sorry, but I needed some time alone."
Cindy's face softened. "Are you alright?"
"I told you, I'm fine. I just want a shower, that's all."
Cindy slowly nodded and stepped aside, allowing Adrian a clear path to the bathroom. As she passed the elder woman asked, "How did it go?"
Adrian held her breath, her mind racing to figure out what to say. "How do you think it went?" she finally asked, her voice saturated with sarcasm.
Cindy raked her fingers through a wave of her hair. "Ricky and Ben," she said. "Those were the boys you said you thought were responsible?"
Adrian froze. "Why?"
"Just curious," Cindy replied quickly. "And the one, Ben, he was just a one night stand? I mean, you don't expect to have any future relationship with him, do you?"
"No. Of course not!" She rounded on her mother. "Why are you drilling me all of the sudden?"
"I'm not! I'm just…just trying to understand everything. I just want what's best for you, that's all." Cindy quickly waved her hand towards the bathroom. "Go take your shower. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It doesn't matter now anyway."
"You're right," Adrian affirmed. "It doesn't." The teenager fled into the bathroom and promptly slammed and locked the door. Without bothering to take her clothes off, she climbed into the shower, pulled the curtains shut, and turned on the water – cold – and turned up at the bottom of the tub beneath the spray of the freezing droplets, rocking bath and forth as the water soaked her.
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Hey, are you okay? You haven't text or called me. I was wondering if you wanted to do something this weekend? Ben finished scribbling the message onto a lined piece of notebook paper. It had come in while his father had been making him call all the Lees in the phonebook and his phone wouldn't stop beeping in his ear to alert him to that fact, so Leo had agreed to let him read it, but not respond to it. Now he couldn't get it out of his head. Along with other things.
If his father kept this up about Adrian and the baby – a baby which, by Adrian's own admission, might not even be his – he would eventually have to tell Amy. Or, given the small, gossipy town in which they lived, it would get back to her anyway. It would be worse if the latter occurred. But the thought of telling her the truth was even more gut wrenching than admitting it to his father.
Ben stood up from his bed and plopped himself into his chair, situated by the window. He'd been in his room for hours now and it was driving him stir crazy without his phone or his laptop, just his school books to keep him company, and he'd already finished all of his homework in record breaking time. Now all that he had to keep himself occupied were his pen, paper, and the window. "I could write a snail mail," he mused out loud. "That is, if I'm allowed to send mail." Not that it would go anywhere on a Sunday anyway, even if he could manage to get it down to the mailbox.
The fifteen-year-old lifted his eyes to the window, staring between the wooden blinds. Slivers of moonlight slipped between the cracks like an aroma under a door. The night was starless, so the moon – just a crescent of moon – stood out against the decisive blackness. It almost felt like it was reaching out to him, stroking his face like his mother used to when he needed someone to comfort him. He turned the page in his notebook and began to write.
Dear Amy Juergens:
Ben Boykewich here. I'm thinking about the first day I saw you, when we bumped into each other on the first day of school. You made me think of a rainbow. You were a rainbow that day. That was almost two months ago. So much has happened between then and now. Is it strange to say that it seems like a million years ago? I'm so grateful for running into you, though. You've been the best thing to happen to me this year and I just want you to know that, from the bottom of my heart. I adore you so much! You know, tonight I'm looking at the moon and wishing I could escape to it. Wishing I could escape to it with you, where our footsteps would be as weightless as your laugh. I'd like to think that maybe you're staring at the moon too; both of us, where ever we are, staring at the same place. It's like being together in spirit, don't you think? Or is that completely ridiculous? All I know is that I'm missing you right now and I'm wishing I could be by your side, holding your hand and watching your smile and bathing in your laughter. I have to get to bed, but know that tonight – and every night – I stare at the moon and think of you.
Sincerely Yours,
Ben Boykewich
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Adrian pulled into the parking lot at the Dairy Shack. She was a little early, but that was okay, she needed the time by herself. Despite that there was parking available near the front entrance, she parked off to the back. The top of her convertible was down, so she reclined her seat and piled her hands into her lap, staring up at the sky.
The night she'd lost her virginity to Antonio, they'd stared up at the glorious night together. It was prettier then than it was tonight. "Isn't everything?" she laughed ironically. There were no stars, no clouds, just the moon, and it wasn't even full, just a fleck of itself, like her. She felt her throat close up, but swallowed the emotions down. She'd been too emotional lately. "It's too soon to claim hormones, isn't it?" She didn't want it to be hormones anyway. She didn't want to think that this baby – fetus, embryo – was somehow affecting her, even if that was the truth.
When she heard another car pull into the parking lot, she immediately sat up, looking for Ricky's. But the car wasn't his, it wasn't even familiar. Nevertheless, she watched it pull up to the front of the Dairy Shack and kill its motor. Seconds later, all four doors opened and four people poured out: from the driver's side was a tall, relatively handsome African-American boy. She didn't know his name, but she recognized him as being in her year and someone from the football team, though not someone she'd slept with. From the back front passenger door Lauren, Amy's friend, got out, and Adrian assumed that it was likely she was related to the boy who'd driven them there. So it was unsurprising when Amy and Madison got out of the back passenger doors, left and right sides respectively.
Adrian watched Amy curiously. While the others grouped together, chattering and gesturing their way into the building, Amy hung back by the car. She retrieved her cell phone and seemed disappointed as she stared at it, then she seemed to be dialing. Or texting. Whatever the case, it lasted maybe a minute or two, then she dropped her cell back into her purse and leaned against the car door, staring up at the moon. For a very brief flash, Adrian felt like she could relate. Then the door to the Dairy Shack opened and Madison skipped out, calling and waving impatiently to Amy.
"What are you doing? We're ordering now, are you coming or not?"
"Sorry, I just – I had something to do. Sorry!" Amy scurried onto the sidewalk and slipped in past Madison, who was right on her tails.
Adrian dropped back into her seat and sighed. As gossipy and annoying as Amy's little friends were, at least she could say that she had them. Adrian, on the other hand, had none. Not since Antonio, her only true friend. She could never have asked for anything or anyone better. It didn't seem fair to try and get another friend, because nobody would ever be able to measure up to those standards, so it was best to just remain as she was.
She glanced at the clock on her dash. Ricky was officially two minutes late. "Figures." She closed her eyes, only for her ears to be met with the sound of another vehicle. She sat up again and this time, it was Ricky's car pulling into the parking lot. She waited until he'd parked, to the left of the car Amy and her friends had gotten out of, and then grabbed her purse and got out of the car. "Ricky!"
Ricky spun around. "What are you doing parked all the way over there?"
Adrian shrugged as she approached him. "They were full when I got here," she lied. "I didn't feel like wasting the gas to move it ten feet." She brushed her hair over her shoulder and looked him up and down. "Finish your essay?"
"Yeah." He smiled. "You look nice."
It was a small thing, but it made her smile, even if only for a moment. "Thanks. So do you." They walked up to the door and Ricky walked in first, but held out his arm to keep it open. It wasn't exactly chivalry, but it was something, so she stepped inside and gave him another smile that she wasn't sure if he understood or not.
"So," he asked, stepping up to the counter. "What do you want?"
Adrian shrugged and turned her head away from the menu board, glancing back at the windows. "That's a good question," she sighed. "I'm still trying to figure that out."