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I wait as she pulls up the result, biting my nails.Say I’m not pregnant. Just say that and everything will be fine. Say it was all just a weird mistake. I’m one of the small percent. I am…right?
“Okay,” she says finally. “So, Ms. Williams, it looks like you’re about six weeks along.”
I pause. I don’t really understand what she’s saying. “Along…what? I don’t understand.”
“Oh, well, you’re pregnancy test, dear.” She says, putting the final nail in the coffin containing my false hope. “You’re about six weeks pregnant.”
Six years ago…
I’m waiting for Jack. He was supposed to pick me up after class. We had a date planned – dinner and a movie – but that was supposed to happen about three hours ago.
I pace around my apartment living room. I’ve called him about ten times already. Maybe more actually. I’m actually starting to get worried.
He might’ve lost his phone again. He’s so absentminded. Maybe that’s it. I hope that’s it. I don’t want to think the worst. I’ve never had to call the police for something like this. How would I even file a missing person’s report?
Calm down. I need to calm down. It’s probably nothing like that.
My roommate left for the evening to go to a party. She’d invited me, like she always does and I almost accepted. She’s got one of those effervescent personalities that can be contagious.
I should’ve gone with her. I’m sure I would be having a great time.
Instead, I chose to stay here, and wait for Jack.
This isn’t the first time my boyfriend decided to bail on me. It seems like he’s always forgetting about me. I’m beginning to think that I’m just not a priority for him.
And to think, we started out so good. The nights we’d stay up talking until the wee hours of the morning. We have so much in common, especially our childhoods. We both had it kind of rough growing up. That always seemed to bond us together. It was enough to ignore the little things…things like this. I just kept making excuses for him. I just kept saying to myself that it was all a product of his rough upbringing.
At this moment, though, I just want a normal boyfriend. One who pays attention to me, takes me out, and buys me presents on my birthday. Hell, I’d settle for a boyfriend who can at leastremembermy birthday.
Maybe he’s too carefree. I always say he’s a free spirit. Maybe that’s the whole problem.
But what’s sad is that I still love him, warts and all. Even now some three hours after he was supposed to show up for our date. I still love him. I doubt I would be pacing this room if I didn’t love him. God, I shouldn’t have to worry about him so much. I should be just living my own life.
In fact…I should go to that party.
So why don’t I go to the party?
Shoot. Forget it. Forget him. I’m going.
With that thought in mind, I walk to the bathroom, quickly put on some lipstick, and ruffle my hair a little. Then I grab my purse and my jacket and I’m gone.
The party’s thriving at the abandoned building just off Pearl Avenue. Neon lights stream across the old walls. The music vibrates the floors and shakes the windows. I walk in and I can feel the energy pulsing off the dance floor and right into me. It feels really good.
I spot my roommate, Jennie. She’s laughing and talking to her crush. They’re drinking beers and they look like they’re having the best time. I’m not going to go over and say hi just yet. Jennie’s been trying to get next to that guy since Freshman year. I don’t want to block that.
Stacy is in the corner with David and they look like they’re really getting into it. I don’t know what David has said, but Stacy looks like she’s practically yelling over the music. That’s no surprise. I’ve never seen two people who hated everything about one anotherexceptfor the arguments.
I laugh to myself and pour myself a beer from the keg. The music has me swaying, and I have to admit, I’m glad I allowed myself a little fun rather than stay at home wearing out the carpet because of Jack.
And just as I think his name, I see him.
He’s holding a beer and talking to his friends, laughing and palling around with them like he hasn’t got a care in the world. My heart jolts in my chest. I’m not sure to feel angry or disappointed or both.
This is it. This is the last straw.
I can’t think of a single thing that he could ever say to me to make this right. How can I let him treat me like this? I can feel my eyes start to burn with tears.
I throw my beer away and storm back to my apartment.
