Part six finally, it's taken a while. Crit welcomed! Enjoy..

Lyla. Part 6.

I walked up to the counter and waited for M to finish serving his customer. M was in his late teens, tall and lanky and bore a great resemblance to the stick insects that Sarah kept when we were little. He even had the same black piercing eyes which gave him his scary look. But M was anything except scary. He was very friendly in his own way, as long as you didn’t ask what his real name was.

He moved over to where I was balancing on a stool.

“Where’ve you been?” he asked, smiling.

I shrugged and tried to ignore his question. “I like your new apron. Green’s so your colour.”

“You didn’t answer my question. I got worried you know. You practically live in here and suddenly you stopped coming in,” M said quietly.

“Uh-hum!” That was a man in a suit that was stood behind me. M took his order and continued talking to me, whilst making a cappuccino.

“So I ask Tom ‘Hey where’s Lyla?’ and he goes how he hasn’t seen you. How you guys aren’t together anymore.” M handed over the suited mans change and put his hands on his hips. “Well?”

I felt guilty for some reason. What was the point in lying to M? He wasn’t going to judge me; he had to deal with problems of his own and I knew he didn’t think of people by their actions solely. I might as well tell him.

“Yeah, we broke up. Two months ago. Truthfully, I’ve been avoiding this place. Too many people from school come in here and I haven’t felt like being around them for longer than I already have to.”

M nodded sympathetically and clapped his hands as though an idea struck him.

“We got a fresh order of strawberry tarts just an hour! Fancy one? I’ll even add on some extra whipped cream.”

My mind liked the idea, however my stomach did not. Was I not aloud to enjoy anything now I was pregnant?

“Er, no thanks,” I replied, obeying my stomach. “I’ll have a slice of carrot cake though,” I added, trying not to sound too ungrateful. M looked puzzled, and for good reason; I was never one to turn down an offer of a fresh strawberry tart. “Tom should be here soon.”

For some reason I wanted to open up to M. He was barely even a friend; we spoke only when we saw each other here, or if we bumped into each other in town. Yet I wanted to tell him everything, all about the last few turbulent months. Stupid really, I didn’t even know his real name.

“Lyla, what is going on?” M placed a plate of carrot cake in front of me on the marble counter. I slid sixty pence across to him which he put in the till.

“Look, Tom and I haven’t spoken due to…complications. But we are now ready to discuss those complications, so he’s meeting me here. Of course it’s Monday, so he will be a little late as he always stays behind on a Monday at school to set up the tennis courts so they can play tomorrow.” I finished with a sigh and nibbled on the carrot cake. M looked shocked that I had told him all that so quickly.

“Ok. Did he do something? I mean…did he cheat on you?”

“Oh, my! No. No, he didn’t cheat on me,” I exclaimed. “I…” my heart beat faster; I could feel it in my throat. I leaned closer to the counter, sure and yet terrified at what I was about to say. I whispered, “I’m pregnant.”

M dropped the teaspoon he was holding. The other staff shot him a dirty look as the metal clanked on the tiled floor.

“Sal!” He called to the head waitress. “Can I have a few minutes off?”

“Make it one. Be very quick!” she hissed back.

M took my hand and led me round the back, into the alley that runs parallel to the main road. It was growing dark and had begun to rain, little droplets that got stuck on your eyelashes. I pulled my blazer across myself. M asked if I was lying, how had I got myself into this situation and did my parents know? I reassured him that all was under control.

“I still don’t believe you!” he murmured, running his hand over his short cut mousy hair. I let go of my blazer and pulled my jumper tight around my stomach, so that my minuscule bump was just visible. M grinned, a completely different smile to what I had ever seen before.

“And you’re keeping it?”

I nodded.

“Fantastic!”

“Thanks. We should go back inside; Tom’s probably here now.”

“Sure. I can’t believe it!”

“Oh,” I said as we reached the back door, “You won’t tell anyone will you?”

“As long as you don’t tell anyone that my name is Mardon.”

That was a promise.

Three sharp, urgent knocks. I could hear Sarah scuffling around inside and a muffled cry of ‘One min’”. Seconds later the wooden door opened and I burst through, already clutching back tears.

“Lyla! What are you doin’ here?” Sarah closed the door again as I began to pace the room, feeling uneasy. I watched her flop onto the bed and tangle herself into her bedding. “Its eight thirty and you’re interrupting my Saturday lie in.”

“Sorry. This is important.” All I could see of Sarah was her muddy blonde head sticking out from the bed. She groaned.

“I suppose my lovely mother let you in,” Sarah complained, her voice muffled.

“Yeah.”

I stopped pacing and stared down at my friend. How could I tell her what turmoil was going on in my mind? How could I voice the one thing that was eating me up inside?

I yanked back the covers and sat down next to her on the bed.

“Sarah, I’m in trouble.”

That’s all it took. Four words and she was wide awake, searching my eyes for the truth. I looked away.

“What is it? What happened?”

I began to sob, silently. I felt like the words would shatter if I said them aloud. That they’d crack and come back, flying into my face. How could this have happened?

“Lyla?” Sarah had a hold of me by the shoulders. I hadn’t even realized. “What is it? Lyla, tell me!”

I couldn’t speak, my throat was sore and I just nestled into Sarah’s chest. I had felt so alone for the past eleven hours; all I wanted to do was feel safe. Sarah was patting my back, like how my mother did when I was a baby. A baby.

“Lyla,” Sarah’s voice was harsher. She was pulling me away. “Speak to me. You can trust me.”

I gulped for air and wiped my cheeks with a shaky hand. Count to three and say it. One, two, three…

“I’m pregnant.”

Sarah’s eyes widened. She let go of me and rolled off the bed, walking towards the door. With a click, she locked it. Then she just stood, leaning against it, in silence. A few minutes passed like this. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t seem to absorb any thought other than the fact that Sarah had a wisp of hair attached to her pajama top.

“Are you sure?”

I jumped up from the bed and ran my fingers through my hair. “Yes, I don’t know. No. I mean yes. Oh, Sarah!” Sarah rushed across the room and seeing me on the verge of hysterical, pulled me into a hug. We sunk to the floor and I cried.

“I thought you guys used protection. You told me you used protection,” said Sarah gently.

“We did,” I mumbled. “We were safe. But something must have gone wrong.”

Sarah sighed and I studied her face, realising that she had a few tears rolling down her perfect, smooth cheeks. “Sarah?”

Sarah turned away from me, her hand now limp in mine.

“What are you going to do? I suppose I’m the first person you’ve told?”

Why was she being like this all of a sudden?

“Please, Sarah, don’t,” I begged suddenly realizing what was on her mind. “You can’t tell anyone!”

She stood up and got her mobile off her desk. “You have to tell him! It’s his baby!”

I glared at the phone as though it might attack me. “Not now, not over the phone. I have to…think.” Deciding abruptly what I needed to do, I jumped up and marched towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Sarah asked in a harsh whisper.

“Wherever my feet take me,” I announced and left her staring bewildered and worried at the door.

Tom was sat at a table by the window, our favourite spot. He looked apprehensive. I said goodbye to M and walked over to the table. Tom was gazing out of the window, searching the crowds for me.

“I came.” My voice startled him. He stood up. I sat down. He glanced around awkwardly, and then resumed his place at the table.

“I’m glad you did,” he replied, not looking at me but fiddling with the sachets of sugar on the table. “I was terrified that you wouldn’t.”

I smiled to myself. Uncomfortable pause. Then we both went to speak.

“You first,” I said. Tom looked around, trying to find the words. He looked straight at me, his green eyes penetrating through me. “Sorry.”

I was shocked. Sorry? Sorry for what? I could no longer keep it all in. My emotions leaped from my mind into my mouth and I couldn’t stop the words from pouring out.

“Sorry for what? Hurting me? Abandoning me? Blaming me? I don’t believe you! Nearly three months, three months and now you want to talk,” I spat, fuming but trying not to raise my voice.

“But-” Tom tried to speak but I over ruled him.

“And the worst thing of all is that I don’t hate you for it. I can’t. Because I feel the same way about you as I did the day I met you. I keep picturing you with me. And the baby.” I finished and stared down at my hands that were folded in my lap. My breathing was rugged and my heart was pumping manically against my chest. I daren’t look at him.

“I was scared.” He sounded hurt. “I didn’t realize-” His voice cracked. I looked into his face. He had welled up. Don’t cry, I thought. I had never seen him cry and I didn’t think I could take it if he did. He buried his face in his hands. I sighed and reached out, pulled his hand from his face and placed it on the table, still in firm hold. I stroked his thumb with my index finger. He wiped his face with his free hand. “Shall we go somewhere more private, where we can talk?” he asked quietly. I nodded my reply and we left ‘Easy Beanz’ still holding hands.