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Chapter 19
6 weeks later
Kristi
I look at the test, sitting on the bathroom sink. The big positive pregnant sign, glaring up at me. I didn’t want to do this, but I’ve been feeling off for a few weeks; I needed to know. Bryce and I have only been together for six months, how are we going to do this? We never talked about the future, this is too soon. Staring at the stick I start to think about all the times we had sex, we were always so in the moment we never even thought to suggest a condom, I’m not on birth control, so I should have been the dumb ass to suggest one. Fuck. I hear a knock at the door, and go to see who it is.
“Finally,” Emma says, bouncing into the apartment after I open the door.
“Uh, hi? What are you doing here?” I ask her. “Did I just see you a few weeks ago?”
“Um, remember? I said I was visiting this weekend.” She frowns at me. Oh yeah, now I remember. “Are you okay? You’re looking awfully pale.”
I shake my head. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
“No, no, no, no, no,” she chants repeatedly. “Please tell me it’s not Bryce’s. Please tell me you cheated on him or something, and it can’t be his,” she says, hysterically.
“Of course it’s his.” I say with disgust; how could she think I cheated. What the hell is her problem?
“Seth was right, this backfired something awful. I made a huge mess.” She collapses onto my bed.
“What’s going on?” I ask, feeling extremely confused.
“I paid Bryce to go out with you. I just wanted you to break down those damn walls you hide behind, come out of your shell a bit,” she says quietly.
“No,” I whisper. Feeling the blood drain from my face. I back away from her when she looks up at me, guilt all over her face.
“I’m so sorry, Kristi, you were just…you just seemed to be so miserable. So mean. Detached from everything. I wanted you to be happy,” Emma starts. “Seth works in his bike shop, and that’s when I discovered him. I figured he would be perfect, because he needed the money to help his shop.”
“Stop talking,” I wheeze out.
She either didn’t hear me, or didn’t care, because she keeps talking. “I went to his shop to talk to him. Alana, his girlfriend was there, and at first, they were against it. Well not Alana, until she knew it was you. But.” I cut her off.
“Alana?” I ask her, shocked. “The same Alana, that’s helped me get ready for dates? The same Alana that kept telling me if I loved him to just tell him? The same Alana that I’ve been spending all my time with when I wasn’t with Bryce?” My last sentence turned into a yell.
Her face pales, and she looks at me. “Yes,” she whispers. “None of this was supposed to happen. In another month, you were supposed to break up. But on your terms, you were going to realize that you could be a real person. Have yourself a family. You were never supposed to fall for him, or have sex.”
“Well, too late now, huh? Fuck you! Get the hell out, or I swear to God, on this child I’m carrying, you won’t be alive long enough to see him or her born,” I tell her, pointing to the door.
She grabs her purse that was on the floor and quickly leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. Fuck her, Fuck Alana, and more importantly fuck Bryce.
How the hell could they do this to me? I knew I never should have befriended Alana. She’s exactly the kind of person I thought she was before getting to know her. I’m so fucking stupid, the first conversation I had with Alana, she told me all about her boyfriend, I can’t believe I forgot that. Matt is nothing like the guy she told me about. He’s a pro BMXer, he doesn’t own his own shop. It also makes sense that whenever Bryce had to go to his house for something, he made me wait in the car for him, he didn’t want me to see his life with Alana. Same with Alana, we always were at my apartment or out and about in town. I’m the biggest moron on the planet. Fuck this.
I quickly get on my laptop and change my relationship status to single, quickly deleting and blocking Bryce and Alana, at the same time deleting all the pictures I have on there of us together.
Screw them all.
Grabbing my cell phone, I quickly call my dad. “Hey kid, what’s up?”
“Daddy,” I sob.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not. I’m gonna come home, should be there soon, is that okay?”
“Of course it is. Take your time, I don’t want you crying while driving, that’s not safe. I can always come to you instead.”
“No, it’s better if I come to you. Love you, Dad.” I hang up and grab the test from the bathroom, sit on my couch and just stare at it, tears streaming down my face. What on earth am I going to do now?
