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I don’t think they knew each other before then. She was a customer, that was certain, with a grocery basket slung over one arm. But she sidled up to John, throwing her blonde hair back over one shoulder, and asked him something or other. About the produce probably.
Usually, my man is pretty immune to this kind of obvious flirtation, but that day, he literally took her to the side, where the eggplant display was. I watched, horrified, as he picked up a big purple fruit and squeezed it, giving the pretty customer a one-on-one lesson on how to pick the ripest eggplants. Of course, she practically swooned, even as tears sprang to my eyes. How could this be happening?
So I got my answer right there. John wasn’t sick, incapacitated, or otherwise unavailable to attend my graduation ceremony. He just didn’t want to go. Our relationship was a flash in the pan, and now that the pandemic’s over, all sorts of ladies are out and about, ready to become the next Mrs. Hemsworth. I just happened to be convenient in a pinch, as awful as that sounds.
Now, with the past in the rear-view mirror, I don’t know why I ever thought any differently. There’s no way someone as magnetic and handsome as John would go for a girl like me. Britney Carter, with my ginormous ass and too-big breasts? Me, with my inability to drive and total dependence on my brother? The connection I’d felt was a figment of my imagination, and John exploited it.
As a result, I’ve become a loner. I go to work, and then come home before locking myself in my room, only to do the same thing the next day. Weekends aren’t much better. I’m supposedly addicted to the Harry Potter books now, which explains why I’m locked in my room non-stop. But fortunately, Joey hasn’t seen fit to question me, seeing that he’s working crazy hours at his new job. It doesn’t matter though. My brother was right all along, and I don’t want to hear it.
A tear rolls down my cheek. The stupid pandemic caused this. If only we hadn’t been so hard-up for food, I never would have wandered into ShopMore. Then, I never would have met John, and I wouldn’t be hurting so much right now. Everyone was acting out during the quarantine, and I was basically John’s quarantine fuck. His temporary, no strings attached little piece of nothing that he’s since dumped.
But that’s the problem. I’m not sure that there are no strings because ever since graduation, I’ve been feeling queasy. A brown paper bag sits on my dresser, and I look at it on a shuddering exhale. I’ve been avoiding it ever since my friends Taylor and Victoria dropped it off two hours ago, but I know I have to do this. They offered to stay, but being alone is safer for my sanity.
I open up the bag and pull out the pregnancy test. I haven’t had my period in almost three months, and my heart dropped when I realized it. I suspected during graduation, but put it out of my mind after John ghosted me. But now, I have to face the consequences. I can’t delay forever.
Quietly, I slip out of my bedroom and into our tiny bathroom. It’s probably not more than ten square feet, and I can literally touch all four walls at once, even the back shower stall wall. At least my brother is reading in his room, and with trembling fingers, I lock myself in and lean against the door. The test feels heavy in my hands, but I’ve got to get this over with.
The instructions are straightforward. Pee on the stick; wait for the results. I complete the first step and leave the stick on the edge of the sink as I stand, staring at myself in the mirror. Who is this woman with the rat’s nest hair and pale expression? My lips look bloodless, and I swear I’ve gained weight.
The alarm finally goes off, and I scrabble for the stick. Two pink lines. I double-check the box, just to be sure, but I already know what the lines mean.
I’m pregnant.
I slide down to the floor, tears flowing from my eyes. My lips turn upward into a smile, and then into a frown. I let out a hoarse laugh that sounds more like a sob. What the hell is going on?
I’m terrified. I’m only eighteen. I’m too young to have a baby.
Yet I’m excited, too. This baby is a part of me and a part of John. Our relationship may be over, but our child will live on as proof that we were once together, and that I once held a magnificent man in my arms. He was mine for a little while, even if it was only temporary.
