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“Damn, he buy one for you too?” she asked Bridge. “You’re brother and sister, right?”
“Yeah,” Bridge admitted, buckling herself in.
“You guys look exactly alike.”
Bridge and I smiled at each other.
The girl’s name was Valerie; she was a junior in high school and had only been dating the guy at the clinic for three months. He told her he’d loved her, told her he would “take care of her,” that if she got rid of the baby, he would marry her later. I told her he was lying and an asshole. She asked how I knew that, and I told her, “I’m a guy, Valerie.” She took that as explanation enough, or maybe I’d confirmed what she already knew.
Valerie’s house was tiny and in a bad neighborhood but was clean with a decent car in the drive. Her parents obviously didn’t have a lot of money, but from what I could tell, they worked hard for what they did have.
When we pulled in front, her dad was leaving for work, I assumed. I got out of my side of the car and pulled back my seat to let her out.
“Valerie?” her dad asked, hesitation in his voice. “Who’s this?”
“Just a friend,” she said. “Can you come in for a second?”
“I’m late for work already.”
“Please, it’s important,” she said.
“Fine,” he said, heading back up their wood porch.
Valerie began to follow.
“Wait!” Bridge got out of the car and ran up to Valerie, throwing her arms around her. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. Valerie let a tear slip and nodded her head before climbing the steps herself.
We both got back into the car and drove a little bit in silence before Bridge started to break down. She faced the window, but I could see her pained expression through the reflection.
“We pretend we got rid of it,” I said.
“Okay,” she said, her hand going to her belly.
“I have an idea, but I need some time.”
“Fine.”
Chapter Eight
I knew I only had a few days before my dad figured out that Bridge was still pregnant, and I had an idea of what I needed to do, but I was looking for the perfect opportunity to do it.
Christmas Eve morning, two days after we left the clinic, I woke early, throwing on a t-shirt because it felt a little chilly. Our house was pretty much floor-to-ceiling windows, and the floors were stone. In other words, it didn’t matter how much money you had, it was damn near impossible to warm the place.
I dialed August, my roommate back at Brown. Ladies, hands over ears. This is how dudes talk and I apologize.
“What’s up, fucker,” he answered. Told ya.
“Hey, asshole. What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know, a little of this, little of that. This is named Ashley, that is named Farrah.”
I laughed. “You’re a sick bastard.”
“I learned from the best, douche.”
“I taught you much, young Jedi, but I never taught you that. Guess I’m just a higher breed of human.”
“I’m gonna take an axe to that fucking pedestal, nuckfut.”
