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“Do you want to be sick or pregnant?” I grit out. Beside what my family would think of it, the thought of her having my baby, it’s not an unpleasant one. It would definitely solidify my obsessive need to make her mine, that is, if I didn’t strangle her first.
“I’d prefer neither, but that doesn’t really matter. I just had my period, so I have nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t care. I would still rather you take it.”
Something in her face changes, almost as if she’s pained by whatever she is thinking about. “Don’t worry about it, okay. I don’t need the pill.”
“Don’t worry about it? You’re kidding, right? This is not something to fucking gamble with, Willow. If something happens. If you do get pregnant, I’m fucked, you’re fucked.”
The air sizzles, and she snaps like frail rope, “I can’t get pregnant, Parker. Can you just stop, please?” The ache in her voice reaches inside of me. Maybe I’m stupid, or maybe I need to clean my ears, but I can’t be certain that I just heard her correctly. She’s young, healthy from what I can see. Why shouldn’t she be able to get pregnant?
“What do you mean?” I ask, my voice dropping to a softness that even shocks me.
Her eyes dart down to her hands, “I have POI… it’s very unlikely that I will get pregnant… like ever. So, when I say, don’t worry, I mean it. You don’t have to worry about me messing with your perfect little future. I won’t.”
Like a kick to the balls, my stomach starts to ache, the pain radiating outward. Every time I think for a second, I could be nice to her, care for her, show her even an ounce of compassion, she shows me the cold side of her. She shows me that she doesn’t really give a fuck about me and reminds me that the feelings I have, though blinded by hate, are completely one-sided.
“Take the pill, don’t take the pill. I don’t give a fuck. Just get yourself on birth control, because next time I fuck you, it’ll be raw too, and with the lies you’ve already told, I can’t trust a fucking word that comes out of your mouth.”
“I’m not lying…”
I cut her off with a shake of my head.
“Don’t fucking speak. Don’t say another fucking word because I am this close,” I show her with my fingers, “to losing it with you.”
Pissed off beyond measure, I shove out of the chair, listening as it clatters to the floor. I need to get away from her before I do something fucking stupid like wrap my hands around her throat and strangle her. Refusing to look at her, I turn on my heels and stomp out of the cafeteria.
Fuck her. Fuck my feelings. All she is to me is revenge. All she’ll ever be is a means to an end. Willow Bradford is nothing.
Even angrier than I was before I got here, I head to my car. No way am I’m going to classes today. I can’t even think straight, let alone long enough to focus on a textbook.
Once in my car, with the door shut behind me, I grab my phone from my pocket and search POI on WebMD. I don’t actually know why I’m doing it. It doesn’t matter. I don’t really care. And yet I find my eyes devouring the information on the screen.
Primary ovarian insufficiency, or POI, is a medical condition in which the ovaries stop working normally. Women suffering from POI have a five percent chance of getting pregnant at some point in their lives…
Before I can read any further, I’m interrupted by a loud knocking on my window. I look up and find Warren propped up against my car. Annoyed as fuck, I roll the window down.
“What are you doing? You missed class,” he says it like I didn’t already know.
“I know, asshole. I’ve been busy.”
Warren grins, his smile bigger than I’ve ever seen, “Please, do tell, how busy were you? Don’t spare any details. I’ve been dying to know. Were we right? Virgin or not?”
“Go away, Warren.” I roll my window back up, watching his face contort into shock. Yeah, that’s right. I’m not sharing. Not today, not ever.
Fed up, Warren walks away, and I direct my attention back down to my phone. The screen is black, but I remember the words that were there.
She’s not lying…
A war rages inside of me. I want to hate her, and part of me does. I hate her for what she represents, for who she is, but I can’t deny the other part of me. The part that’s wanted her since we were kids.
Taking my head in my hands, I will myself to fall on one side or the other.
Enemy or lover?
Think of your brother…
She’s a liar, she has proven it again and again. So how can I want her? How can this be so damn hard?
