Chapter 5

chapter 5

. . .

I t’s another Saturday with Liam not playing. The on-air reporters keep saying, week after week, it’s because Liam’s a freshman and soon the coach will come to his senses. The soon part needs to happen now because I want to see my boyfriend on TV. It would be one thing if he played the entire game—I’d be okay looking away once in a while—but as it is with him on the sidelines, I have to stay focused on the screen just so I can catch a glimpse when the cameras pan to him.

Tomorrow, he’ll call, and I’ll hear how sad he is. He tries to hide it, but his voice tells another story. Every time we’re on the phone I want to tell him I’m on my way—that I’m dropping out of school and moving to Texas—but I can’t find the words. I think the reason is I fear he’ll tell me stay where I am, and then my mind will wonder if it’s because he doesn’t want me there or if it’s because he doesn’t want to interrupt my college experience.

Christmas can’t get here fast enough. With the Longhorns record, there’s no way they’re going to a bowl game even if they give the team over to Liam. He’s good, but he’s not a magician and that’s what they need right now. This means Liam and I will have a nice long vacation together. It would be nice to go somewhere tropical. To spend our days lying on the beach someplace where no one could bother us.

Someday.

When the game’s over, the other guys in the rec room cheer because they no longer have to fight me for the TV. That’s another thing I don’t like about college, no TV. Each room should have cable so we can watch whatever we want instead of having to fight others for the remote. Longhorn football is the only thing I watch so I figure the rest of the people in the building can suck it up for three hours on Saturdays during football season. Besides, most of them should go and support our own team and not worry about being the rec room billiards champion.

When I get to my room there’s a note from Katelyn on the white board: At the game , which I already knew. She hasn’t missed one and the only time I do, is when Liam plays first. I haven’t missed one of his either.

I pick up the phone and dial his number, knowing he won’t answer. After four rings, his voicemail picks up. “Hey, babe. I love you,” I tell him and then hang up. He doesn’t need to hear me remind him that he’s the best. He knows he is. The coach will come around soon. He has to.

Reaching over, I grab my calendar to see what time Liam plays next week. As I look at the dates, I realize my period should’ve started by now and by now, I mean eight weeks ago. I don’t know how I didn’t notice . . . because you’re not with Liam every day .

“Holy fuck,” I say as I sit up and look back at the previous month. Each month is like clockwork. Me marking the day my period started, combined with the days Liam and I had sex. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the gap in my calendar. It’s simple. I forgot to write down my last period. It happens. I’m under a lot of stress with school starting and missing Liam, of course I forgot to make a note of one of the most important dates in my life.

I keep flipping, as if the circle around the right number will magically appear. I tell myself each time I don’t see said number that I’m starting to panic for nothing. Liam’s careful. He always puts a condom before he . . . except he didn’t, and he didn’t pull out as promised.

“Holy fuck,” I say again because it’s the only comprehensible statement coming to mind. There is absolutely no way in hell I’m pregnant. The one time he forgets isn’t going knock me up.

Panic sets it. It doesn’t creep or ooze its way through my body. It just full on sits on my chest right along with a red sign flashing the words “pregnant.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I start to pace. Liam is going to kill me even though this is technically his fault. If he had pulled out, I wouldn’t be dragging my hands through my hair right now while biting my lip lower, thinking the pain is somehow going to overtake my mind and I’ll forget about my period being late.

It doesn’t work.

I pick up the phone to call Liam, he’ll know what to do. I start dialing his number and then stop. What’s he going to do from Texas?

The only way to know for sure is to take a test. I can’t continue to speculate or assume without proof. Grabbing my purse off my bed, I sling it over my head and shoulder and rush out the door. If I hurry, I can catch the bus to Allenville. There’s a store there and everyone I know is at Mason’s game right now.

As I wait for the bus, my mind tells me to touch my stomach. As if my hand can feel whether there’s a baby growing in there or not. I refuse because doing so makes me feel like I’m accepting this and I’m not. I can’t be pregnant.

On the bus, I sit toward the front and lean on the side, staring out the window. It’s a twenty-minute ride to the store and it’s the longest twenty minutes of my life. When I get off, I have to walk for a couple of blocks. My feet are heavy, my steps slow. It’s like I’m dragging an extra person behind me who doesn’t want to move.

The bell chimes when I walk in, and the clerk greets me. Instead of going right to the aisle, I meander up and down the others, looking at random shit I have zero intention to buy. When I finally come face-to-face with the selection of tests, I buy two. One for now and one for the morning. I take them and a celebrity gossip magazine to the counter.

The clerk who said hi when I came in, picks up each box and scans it. I can’t look at her. I don’t want to see the disappointment on a stranger’s face. She tells me how much and while I’m pulling money from my wallet, she puts everything in a bag for me.

“It’s going to be okay,” she tells me.

I shake my head and give her a watery eyed smile.

“It is.” She puts her hand over mine. It’s calming but doesn’t make me feel any better. I smile again, thank her, and take the brown paper bag that is going to either change my life forever or mock me for overreacting.

On my way back to campus, all I can think about is Liam and what he’s going to say if I have to tell him I’m pregnant. His parents are going to lose their ever-loving minds, and mine . . . well, my dad isn’t a huge fan of Liam’s so I can’t imagine he’ll be okay.

Of course, this is assuming there is a baby and we decide to keep the baby. Liam and I are young, he has his whole career ahead of him, and I want to finish school. Neither of us are ready to be parents. Although, we’d at least be together. Surely, the school would give Liam off-campus housing or something. It’s not like we could raise a baby in a dorm room.

When I get back on campus I head to the nearest bathroom in my building. Thankfully, no one is in there, which gives me a little bit of privacy. In the stall, I follow the instructions, pee on the stick and then wait. No one has to force me not to look at the stick. This is the only test in life I hope I fail.

I have to do something while I wait though. After gathering my things, I walk toward the other side of the bathroom and slip into a shower stall. There’s a mirror in there and after setting my things down, and carefully avoiding a glance at the test, I stand in the mirror and look at myself.

To me, I look the same. There isn’t anything noticeably different. That is until I cup my breasts the way Liam does when we’re together and hiss at the contact. They hurt, which only exacerbates the thoughts in my mind.

“This isn’t good,” I say to my reflection. “None of this is good.”

I glance at my watch and see that five minutes have passed. Slowly, I move my stuff out of the way so I can see what the test says. Before I even fully look, my hand covers my mouth to stifle my cries. Tears stream in hot angry waves down my face, wetting my shirt. The sound coming from me isn’t human and it’s laced with fear.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” someone calls out.

I wipe my face with the back of my hands. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

I’m anything but fine.

Gathering my things, I leave the bathroom, praying that whoever is in there doesn’t know me. I don’t want to have to explain myself and I don’t want sympathy. The whole “everything is going to be okay,” mantra doesn’t feel like it’s going to work for me right now.

Back in my room, I try calling Liam again, but he doesn’t answer. I hang up and try again but get the same damn message. I want to scream.

The door opens and Katelyn walks in. She sees me and her eyes go wide. “What’s wrong?”

This is one of those Band-Aid moments where you just rip it off and pray for the best.

“I’m pregnant,” I tell her. “At least, I’m pretty sure I am. I’m late and took a test, and it’s positive, and . . .” I sit on the edge of my bed and look at her. She says nothing and I imagine she’s running the same scenario through her mind that I am—this isn’t how Liam and I planned things.

Wetness coats my cheeks. I let the tears fall. There isn’t anything I can do about them, the lump in my throat, or the tightening of my heart so why bother try to stop any of it. I fucked up. Eighteen, in college and pregnant.

My parents are going to kill me.

Maybe not my mom so much, but my dad for sure.

“Have you told Liam?”

I shake my head. “I called, but he didn’t answer. They lost today so I think he’s just dealing with that. And this isn’t something you leave on voicemail, ya know? Do you think I should go see him?”

Katelyn shrugs. “I mean, yes you should, but also, I think you should tell him as soon as you talk to him because he needs to know.”

She’s right. Over the phone it is.

“He’s going to be so angry.”

Katelyn nods. “Liam loves you. Sure, he’ll be pissed at first but it’ll all work out. Maybe he can transfer here?”

I shake my head. “He’s too good for this school. No offense.”

“None taken because I know he his. So is Mason, but here we are.”

Katelyn comes over and sits next to me. She wraps her arm around me, and my head falls onto her shoulder. I sob. Cry an ocean of tears for this colossal fuck up. I can’t believe this has happened.

“Please don’t tell anyone. I need to figure things out and really want Liam to know first.”

“Of course, it’ll be our secret.” She runs her hand up and down my hair. “Are you sure it was positive?”

I nod against her. “I bought two tests and this one was positive. I’ll take the other one in the morning.”

“Okay, that’s good. Then we can go to the nurse’s office,” she says. “She can give you another one, just to be sure. You don’t want to tell Liam and then have it be wrong.”

“You’re right,” I say and then start thinking that maybe the one I took was wrong.

Only, in the morning it’s positive again.