12
Katrina remained silent for a long while following. She stared at the wind whipping the tall grasses across her feet, trying to toss her worries with it. Her shoulders slumped and she sighed.
"Mat, we can't run away."
"Why not?" Matthew turned to her, feeling dirty and mean.
"We are still in high school."
"So? Tons of people dropped out."
"What will we do about money?"
"We'll run out to where there aren't a lot of people, so not a city; and I'll get all the money I have saved up and from the bank and buy a little apartment. I'll work all day and get money until I can find another, better paying job, then we'll buy a house. We'll raise some good kids."
"Matthew, you don't understand."
Matthew scowled. The more he thought of his plan, the better it seemed; the wilder the more plausible. He began fidgeting.
"What don't I understand?"
A tear rolled down her cheek, racing to her chin and then followed by another, and another. She covered her face and tears freely shed. She hunched her shoulders and hoarsely cried out; "You don't understand a thing, Matthew! You don't get it! I always saw those numbers of all those girls who got pregnant in high school and I thought 'it will never happen to me'. And here I am. There's a LIVING BEING being made inside of me! Does that not scare you? It scares me, and now all the dreams I've ever had about college and a good life outside of school, my own place, my own dreams, they've been shattered! All because of you, bastard!" She shot up.
That was the first time she had ever cursed at him.
He watched her storm inside, still fuming and clutching her fists.
"Kat…" He muttered, feeling a horrible guilt slam into him and steal his breath. "I'm sorry…"