Hey, this is my part of a book my friends and i are writing. It isn't much yet, but i want to see what people think of it so far.
I slowly, carefully turned the combination lock on my locker. If I wasn’t careful, I might stop paying attention or fall asleep by accident like last time. I pushed up on the button and opened the door. Hanging on it were pictures of Kent, in many sorts; one of him on his couch, a close up of his face in a heart shaped frame, one of the two of us hugging, another of us kissing (which I tore in half), and countless copies of his school picture with red Sharpie hearts surrounding his face. I ripped them off the door and shoved them into the shoe box that I held in my hand. Usually his dark brown hair and eyes, his slightly tanned pale skin, his sharp cheek bones, his broad shoulders, are attractive. But now they just made me sick.
I lifted my bag slowly from the hook. It weighed only about seven pounds, but for the very pregnant me, due in 6 weeks, it weighed seven million pounds. My clammy hand grasped the edge of the metal and slammed the locker shut with a clang. Standing there, behind the door and right in front of me, was Kent.
“What’s in the box?” he said flatly, his deep voice holding no emotion. I could feel my eyes widen.
“Oh, Kent, I-“
“What’s in the box?” he repeated, slower. I went to defend myself but stopped. No, I said to myself. I have to be strong.
“It's your junk,” I said with a bit of attitude. I wasn’t sure if it made me sound tough or wimpy. I hoped it was tough.
“Huh?”
“I’m breaking up with you,” I said. His eyes sunk into his head. He suddenly seemed overwhelmed by surprise and shock.
“Kent?” I asked. He blinked a few times, and then breathed.
“But, the baby,” he almost whimpered. He seemed to be shaking.
“I know,” I sighed.
“Wait, is this because it’s not mine?” he asked. I backed away a step.
“No, it’s yours. And I’m not proud of it,” I said frankly.
“Huh? Why?”
“Because, Kent, I finally realized something. All those times you made fun of gay people and gave them crap, well, maybe I don’t like that. Maybe I don’t think that’s ok. Maybe-,”
“No, Lina. Don’t do this-,”
“Kent, I’m gay,” I blurted out. He looked up at me with anguish. I stared at my shoes, almost ashamed.
“But, the baby,” he repeated after a long pause. He went to touch my enlarged abdomen, but I pushed his hand away. He shook his head.
“No, no, no,” he stuttered. He stopped talking and just stared. It seemed as though time stopped for him. And in the next moment, he slapped my cheek hard.
I looked up at him in shock and started to cry. How could he? The hot, wet balls of water burned the now reddened skin. I started to run for the door as fast as I could, which wasn’t very fast at that.
“Lina,” he said. It wasn’t in a forgiving tone, but almost as if he were to say that he would have revenge.
I pushed through the door of the high school. I ignored the pouring rain and shuffled to my old gray convertible. Luckily, I had reminded myself to keep the hood up, for it had been sunny this morning. I ripped open the door, sat down, and cried.
That’s one of the main things I hate about being pregnant. You cry all the time. That and the fact that I totally can’t wear any of my clothes any more. After a while I stopped crying. I decided I needed to go home.
The whole at-home thing isn’t so great. Ever since I found out about the little “thing” growing inside me, my dad stopped talking to me. He only emails me when he absolutely has to say something. He is being very tough about this. My mom is a different story. She was depressed and mad at first, but she decided to go along with it. She loves to take me shopping to buy practically every baby toy, accessory, or anything for the baby. She’s gotten really excited.
Now the whole thing about me being gay, well, that I haven’t told them. I think one drama is enough. I’ll tell them after the baby’s born.
I reached my house after about ten minutes. I was glad I lived close because by the time I got home I was exhausted. I was glad it was finally Friday.
I stepped out of my car, and then stepped back in. My ankles were sorer then I believed. I felt as though I was sinking into the ground, slowly compacting myself into my ankles.
I got back out and hobbled towards the door. The door opened slightly and in that moment I knew my planned nap would have to be postponed.
“Surprise!” everyone yelled. There was a large banner across the stairs that read “CONGRADULATIONS LINA!” in blue and pink lettering. My mom, about a billion of her friends and some family were packed into the front hallway. They all were wearing blue or pink party hats. I saw a big table piled with food. All of the sudden, my heart sank and I sighed, because I was totally about to pass out and would have to stay awake for another three hours. You can do it, Lina, I told myself. If you can’t do this then you can’t take care of a baby.
My mom and I had made a deal. I could keep the baby as long as I could take care of it. She’d home school me for one year, then I would have to take night schooling. I was already a senior, but I knew I would need more education. She would provide daycare as long as I could pay her $100 in “baby fees” every month. My mom worked from home anyways, but she wanted me to be able to know what taking care of a baby meant.
“Isn’t it great Lina?” I heard my mom ask. She was wearing all blue and pink; a blue sweater, pink jewelry, jeans, pink flip-flops, the whole getup.
“Yeah Mom, it is. Thanks,” It was great. She had planned a whole party for me, and for that I was grateful.
We played a baby bingo game, had a vote on whether it would be a boy or a girl (which I didn’t know yet), had name suggestions, and the whole shebang. It was fun, but after everyone left, I felt as though I had been running for all eternity. Finally, when the last guest left, I rushed up to my room, and collapsed.
Sleeping was my most favorite and least favorite thing to do. I was tired all the time, and by all the time I mean all the time. Even when I’m asleep, I am about to pass out. But when I sleep, I have the dream.
I think the dream started when I had first come to terms with the fact that I, Melina Fisher, am carrying a life inside of me. This life is of my own creation, and will be a piece of me forever. This is my child, in my stomach, growing. I guess that was when I was happy. I was excited for the baby. I had so much fun picking out the names; if it was a boy, I would name him Leo, and if it was a girl, I would name her Jojo, short for Josephine. And then I had the dream.
It starts out with just me, in a dark space, lying down, staring at the black beyond. Suddenly I fall. I land on a metal bed, with a soft white comforter (the bedding changes each night) and a super fluffy mattress. I think everything is lovely until suddenly, there’s a lapse in time. Then, I envision that it’s me and Kent, that one night when he got drunk and was playing cards betting with his other drunk friends to see if he’d let me… Anyways, I think everything’s fine until there is another lapse in time. Now, I’m still on a bed, and there is still darkness, but now there is pain. All of the pain that I’ve had during my pregnancy, all of the horrible back aches, the kicking, the sore ankles, the exhaustion, all of it comes back to me in one boom. Like the second that you’re in a speeding car and the driver slams on the breaks, you lurch forward and then back. Well, I lurch forward and when I come back, I land on a bed of nails, or an electric wire or something. And I can rally feel the pain.
Then the scene changes and again, I am in darkness. Only this time I’m actually having the baby.
I have been so scared for this moment. I know there is pain, lots and lots of pain. And I haven’t heard anything good about it. So I know it can’t in anyway be fun. Whenever I start to think about it, I try to shoo those thoughts away. But they always come back.
In the dream, then, I start to scream uncontrollably. And suddenly, there is a bright white light rushing towards me. I can’t move to get away from it because I’m somehow paralyzed by the screaming. And I know what the bright light is. I know that in that dream, at that moment, I die.
I woke up with a shudder, the bright white light still in my mind and the aching electric pain was still numb on my body. I was so uncomfortable. I sat up and rubbed the large blob that was now me, reassuring myself. I could feel the baby kick me.
“Hi, lovely little one,” I said in a sweet tone. I knew it couldn’t hear me, but I loved to talk to it. “Lovely, little baby,” I sang.
I looked up at my reflection in the mirror that was across from my bed. My hazel colored braids were loose and coming undone. My pale skin seemed to almost sag. I looked pathetic already. The front of my green button down shirt was open, the sides hanging revealing the white stretch shirt underneath. My eyes seemed set in my head with worry.
“Knock knock,” I heard my mom say. I laughed.
“I would get up and let you in, but I’m too fat and lazy,” I joked. She opened the door a crack and stuck her head in. She was still wearing her party attire.
“The door’s for you,” she said. I looked at her puzzlingly. I got up and waddled down the stairs, realizing the back of my shirt was sticking to me. Finally, I reached the bottom, and there was Kent.
I wanted to gasp, but I knew that would make me sound weak. So instead, all I did was glare.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered. I didn’t take my eyes of his face.
“I want you to change your mind. I need you,” he said. It didn’t really sound like he meant it.
“Don’t you understand, pretty boy? I said that I dumped you and I meant it. Unlike how you just think you can say sorry without meaning it. You got to mean stuff when you say it,” I argued. I put my hand on my hip for added affect. “And you think you can just barge in here like it’s no big deal. Well I don’t know where you’re from, but where I come from we don’t do things that way,”
I could see that that made him mad. But he held it down. He had to make it seem like it was worth my while to accept his demand.
“Lina, you can’t take care of that baby all by yourself. You need me but you just won’t admit it,” He muttered and squinted at me. Then he sighed, regaining his temper. “Please Lina, I love you, I really do. I’m sorry. I don’t want any silly excuses, but I want you back,”
I laughed “Excuse? Well excuse me but I think you just can’t listen can you? That wasn’t an excuse, big shot. That was the truth. I said it once and I’ll say it again. I,” I pointed to myself, “don’t love you,” I felt hot with power.
“For Pete’s sake, Lina, don’t say that. Lina, please. I got you this,” he cried, pulling a box from behind his back. It was the shoe box of his pictures from my locker. He must have pulled it from the trash. He also had placed a rose on top.
“Get out,” I pointed to the door. “Get out, now, and don’t come back, Kent. I told you, I don’t want your stuff, I don’t want you touching my baby, and I certainly don’t want you,” I sobbed. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t. He lumbered out, slamming our large wooden front door behind him.
For some reason, I wanted to sue him. Sue him for being such an idiot, such a terrible person. But I knew I wouldn’t pursue it.
I ran to the couch in our living room, the next room over, sat down, and cried. But after a while I asked myself why I was crying. Because I’m some hormonal pregnant freak, I thought. No, that may be why but that’s not what I mean. I shouldn’t cry. I looked back into the hall where the banner still hung from the stair railing. Congratulations Lina! You have finally broken up with your worst nightmare. I smiled, because I knew that it was true.
