Misunderstandings (14 page)

February 2011

“Is there something wrong with your chicken?” Justin asked, looking at the mangled uneaten mess on my plate.

“No. I’m just not hungry,” I said shortly. I was afraid if I said more, the secret I was holding would leak from my mouth, and I wasn’t ready to tell him. I was still trying to come to grips with the situation myself. A situation that had been confirmed in the bathroom just a few hours before Justin picked me up. The pee stick delivered the news in seconds. For whatever reason, I thought it would take longer. Instead, I glared at the offending stick, which had instantly stolen any last bit of denial I had left.

“Are you done? I really have to pee,” Stephanie, from the
room we shared the communal bathroom with, called through the door.

“Yeah, give me a sec,” I answered, washing my hands after hastily wrapping the test stick in toilet paper. Before exiting the bathroom, I unlocked the door adjacent to Stephanie’s room so she could get in. I was already exiting the door to my room when she called out a greeting. I pretended I didn’t hear her, not sure I could stomach a conversation centering on who was hooking up with who. I liked Stephanie a lot, and most days her idle chitchat was entertaining. She had a way of spinning every story into a mock standup comedy act. It was all in good fun and everyone found it worth bragging about when she decided to add you into her act. At the moment, though, laughing was not on my agenda.

“I can order you something else,” Justin asked, sounding aggravated.

“No. I’m really not that hungry,” I answered. I wasn’t surprised he was losing patience with me. My end of our conversations over the past week had been reduced to one-word answers. I told myself I was waiting to tell him the truth until I knew for sure. Now that the life-changing stick had verified the news, I couldn’t find the courage to speak up. He was obviously confused over my sudden standoffishness and broken dates, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to fix it.

“You haven’t been in the mood to talk either. What’s with you lately?” he probed.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you’ve been pretty self-involved for days now. Is
this your way of telling me you want out of this relationship? Because if that’s the case, all you have to do is say the word,” he said, expressionless.

“Are you serious?” I stewed. “Are you trying to break up with me?”

“Is that what you want?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Is it what
you
want?” I asked, throwing his words back at him. The nausea that plagued my body swirled inside me until it lodged in my throat.

“Hey, I’m not here to force you to stay in a relationship if you’ve lost interest. Last week you broke all our dates, claiming to be sick or busy. This week, every time we’re together, you’ve got a vacant look on your face. Obviously, I’m boring you. If that’s the case, there are plenty of other chicks I can hook up with.”

His words made me feel like I was being dragged under water with no way to return to the surface. How had we gotten to this point so quickly? I had been moody and a little vacant recently, I got that. Was that really all it took for him to throw in the towel? How could he handle the responsibility of a pregnancy when he couldn’t handle a week of not being the center of attention?

“Hook up? Did you really just say that to me?” I asked. I didn’t care that my voice carried across the restaurant. He had pushed the wrong button and was being unfair. I was trying to deal with a life-changing event and he was thinking about who he could hook up with next. I clenched my fist, wanting to punch the snarky look right off his face.

“Chill,” Justin said in a lower voice, looking uncomfortably at the other patrons sitting near us.

“Chill? You want me to chill? How about you chill,” I said, picking up my glass of water and throwing it in his face. The other diners chuckled at the free show, but I paid no attention. “You go hook up with those other girls. I need nothing from you anymore,” I said as my voice shook with rage and hurt.

I was halfway home before the tears finally made it past the rage and into sorrow. As they poured down my cheeks with no end in sight, everything inside me turned to burned ash. Why should I be so surprised that it would end this way? Justin wasn’t the type to stick to a relationship. Hell, neither was I. Could I really blame him for getting bored with me, especially after my behavior these last few weeks? We were both anticommitment.

“Holy crap, Brittni. What happened to you?” Melissa jumped up as I burst into our room. “You’ve been crying,” she stated, unsure how to handle this anomaly.

I nodded, sinking down on my bed. Scooting back, I picked up my pillow and clutched it against my chest, hoping it would help the pain.

“What happened?” Melissa asked, joining me on my bed. “Did you and Justin have a fight?”

I nodded again. I wasn’t sure I would be able to talk around the new wave of tears I was trying to keep from flowing.

Melissa patted my hand. “I’m sure it’ll be okay,” she said confidently. “By morning, I bet he’ll be calling you, wanting to make up.”

“We broke up and I’m pregnant,” I said in a rush as tears coursed down my cheeks.

“Pregnant?” Melissa whispered, looking horrified.

I nodded through my tears, relieved to finally confess to someone.

“And that asshole dumped you when you told him?” she asked disgusted, snatching up her cell phone. “Rob is going to kick his ass.”

“I didn’t get to tell him about the baby,” I said, stalling her hands before she could text Rob. “Things fell apart before I could tell him, and now it’s too late.”

“Brittni, you have to tell him. He’ll change his mind. I know he’ll stick with you through this.”

I looked at her incredulously. She had to be kidding. “Melissa, he couldn’t even stick it out because I wasn’t quite myself lately. He was ready to call it quits because of a few broken dates and my moodiness this week. What in God’s name makes you think he’d stick with me over the next nine months and all the decisions we’d have to make afterward? He threw away what we had when it was no longer fun for him.”

“He’s going to find out, honey. It’s not like you’re going to be able to hide it,” she said, patting my hand.

I looked at her without saying anything as mixed thoughts continued to race around my head.

“Brittni?” she asked, taking in my silence. “Are you going to have it?”

I couldn’t answer her. I had no idea how I’d ended up here. I didn’t believe in abortion, but it wasn’t something I’d thought
I would ever have to face. My views had always been black or white. If you were dumb enough to get pregnant, then you sucked it up and had the baby. If you couldn’t handle the responsibility, there were thousands of couples out there dying to adopt. Suddenly, nothing appeared black and white anymore. Everything was gray and cloudy with no right answer. If I decided to have the baby, it would come after my junior year started. There was no way I could attend classes. I would lose my scholarship and everything else I had worked for, but the alternative made me ill.

“I’ll support you no matter what you decide,” Melissa said, placing an arm around my shaking shoulders. I wasn’t even aware I was sobbing until I felt her arm around me.

Melissa sat up with me the entire night as I alternated between tears and staring off into space. She was uncharacteristically quiet with none of her usual glee anywhere to be found. My bleakness seemed to have sucked everything out of us both.

By the next morning I had no more tears left to cry. I moved lethargically through the day from a lack of sleep. Melissa’s promise that Justin would come to his senses never surfaced. My phone remained silent as one day trickled into two and then bled into three days.

Melissa stopped asking if I’d heard from him by the end of the second day. I made her promise not to tell Rob, which I knew was selfish. Rob was Justin’s best friend. By forcing her silence, I was making her compromise her own relationship. She never complained, even though I could see it was wearing on her judging by her lack of typical enthusiasm.

A full week after Justin and I broke up, I finally went to a walk-in clinic. I took a bus to the other side of town so no one would know me. The doctor was kind and understanding as she confirmed what I already knew. She gave me literature on my diet and sample packs of prenatal vitamins that she said were important for the baby. Discussing it with a doctor made everything seem much more real. My head spun as she continued on about stretch marks and birthing plans and the delivery. Through it all, I nodded like I was listening, but my mind was elsewhere. When I was ready to leave, she gave me a list of doctors to choose from that all took my insurance. Thrusting everything she handed me into my bag, I thanked her and fled from the clinic.

It took several blocks before I was able to digest everything the doctor had mentioned. It all seemed so final, like I had no choices. I began to feel caged in. Pulling my phone out, I reluctantly typed the one thing I never thought I would into the search engine. The map indicated the planned pregnancy clinic was two miles away. During the walk, I didn’t allow myself to think about where I was headed. Instead, I filled my head with mundane thoughts as if this were any other day.

When I finally arrived at my destination, I stared at the nondescript building in front of me with morbid fascination. It was a far cry from what I would have pictured. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had been expecting a seedy, drab building that could only be accessed through an equally dark and dreary alleyway. Not a place that could have housed something as normal as a real estate office. As a matter of fact, I checked the address one last time to make sure I was in the right spot. Pulling
the door open, I nearly gasped when I saw the crowded waiting area. At least everyone inside seemed to have the same idea of remaining as inconspicuous as possible. I kept my eyes averted as I approached the long counter with one small window.

“Can I help you?” the middle-aged woman beyond the glass asked without looking up.

“I’d like to speak with someone,” I said nervously.

“Sign in and we’ll call you back in a while,” she replied as she continued to type on her computer. “Make sure you have payment ready.”

“Uh-huh,” I stammered, unsure of what I was doing here. I wasn’t ready for this yet. I’d just needed to make sure there were other options. “Can I just have a pamphlet or something?” I asked, finally able to form a coherent sentence.

“On the far wall between the bathrooms is all the literature you’ll need,” she said, still not looking up.

Thanking her for her limited help, I made my way to the wall of brochures. Without bothering to read any of their titles, I shoved one of each into my purse, not caring whether they were about STDs, safe sex, or options beyond abortion. The safe sex literature seemed a little like hindsight considering that if anyone in this room had practiced safe sex, none of us would be here now. Cramming the last of the brochures into my bag, I hurried from the building like a bank robber fleeing the scene of a crime. The anxiety I felt haunted me for several blocks as I moved as fast as my legs could muster. I wanted as much distance between the abortion clinic and me as possible. One thing I learned was that returning would be nearly impossible.

Present Day
4:17
PM

“Did you ever consider the possibility that I would want to know?” Justin asked.

“Of course I did,” I sighed, pulling my bag to my lap. I held it tightly as if it could shield me from his questions.

“But you decided my opinion wasn’t important enough, or maybe you knew I would talk you out of it.”

“I was going to tell you. That last date we had, when you accused me of being vacant, I’d just taken the pregnancy test. I was going to tell you and then you were suddenly breaking up with me.”

My eyes met his without flinching. I had provided one of the pieces from the puzzle of confusion. I could see him mentally sliding it into place. Because I knew him as well as I did, the remorse hidden behind his handsome features was evident, even if for a moment.

“You had plenty of time to tell me after that day,” he said stubbornly, not wanting to own up to his part in the blame game.

“Really? When exactly would that have been? The week after you broke up with me and never even bothered to call? I know you can’t possibly be talking about Jacob’s beer-pong party, where you spent half the night with Shelly sitting in your lap with her tongue crammed down your throat.”

“I didn’t call because I was fucking torn up. Your sudden disinterest in me felt like someone had reached into my chest and pulled out my heart.”

“Oh, boo-hoo. So you didn’t even bother trying to call? It had to be just about you, right? I wasn’t disinterested. I was freaking out because I was pregnant, you moron.”

“I didn’t know,” he stated quietly.

“It shouldn’t have mattered. You should have stood by me. We’d been dating for three months. You told me you loved me,” I said, hating the way my voice cracked.

“I was afraid you were getting ready to dump me. I was trying to save face.”

“Well, there you go. All you cared about was yourself. Are you kidding me?”

“Look, the relationship thing was still new to me. Just like you. I was scared that you seemed to hold all the power.”

“None of it changes anything. You wanted to know why I never told you; well, now you see. You took yourself out of the equation the moment you tried to ‘save face,’” I said, throwing his words back at him.

March 2011

“What are these?” Melissa asked, holding up the stack of brochures I’d cleaned out of my bag after a week of ignoring them.

“Just some stuff I picked up,” I answered, taking them from her and shoving them in my bag.

Melissa looked troubled as she continued to study me. “Brittni, what are you going to do? Are you going to get an abortion?”

I didn’t want to answer her question. For almost a week I’d been able to pretend everything was okay. I just needed time to sort through my feelings, and by ignoring the pamphlets I was almost successful. “I don’t know, Mel. It’s too much for
me to think about right now,” I answered, shoving my books into my bag for my afternoon classes.

“You have to make a decision soon, otherwise you won’t have a decision to make,” she logically pointed out.

“I know. I have a few weeks to make up my mind. I just need a little more time,” I said, ignoring her doubtful look as I headed for the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye,” she muttered, looking unhappy.

Her words repeated themselves on a continuous loop in my head. I knew she was right. A decision had to be made. The idea of returning to the cold forbidding abortion clinic made my stomach turn. I just needed more time.

Classes passed much as they had for the last month. I meticulously took notes in each of them, since it was the only thing that seemed to distract my thoughts.

“Hey, Brittni, wait up,” a masculine voice called out as I headed back to my dorm later that afternoon.

Turning around, I saw Jacob Miller hurrying toward me.

“Damn, you’re fast,” he said, jogging over to me. “Hot date?”

An ironic bubble of laughter erupted out of me in one quick gasp. “Hot date? Not unless you consider math equations hot,” I answered, holding up my book.

Jacob laughed along with me before swallowing hard. “I kinda heard through the rumor mill that you and Justin Avery called it quits.”

My eyes widened as I willed myself not to react to hearing Justin’s name. “I didn’t realize you and Justin knew each
other,” I commented, digging my nails into my hand so I would remain focused.

“Sure, we all go back. Anyway, I’m throwing a party tonight and wanted to know if you’d come?”

“Um, I’m not really in the party mood,” I hedged.

“Come on. It’ll do you good to let off some steam.”

“I’m not ready to start dating again,” I interjected, trying to let him down easy.

“Hey, that’s cool. You can come hang out.”

I racked my brain for another excuse but came up empty. Partying was the last thing on my mind, but the idea of submerging myself in a loud environment had its perks. “Okay, maybe I’ll come.”

“No maybes. Say you’ll be there,” Jacob persisted.

“Fine. I’ll be there for sure. Here, plug your address into my phone,” I said, handing my cell over.

He grinned happily. I felt a twinge of guilt that he thought he stood a chance, but I’d been honest with him. What else could I do?

“See you at eight,” he said, handing my phone back before heading in the opposite direction.

“Sounds good,” I answered, although I was lying. I was already second-guessing my impulsiveness. I had no business going to a party in my current state.

The rest of my afternoon was spent weighing the pros and cons of going to the party. One moment, I would decide not to go, and five minutes later, I would rationalize that although I was pregnant, that didn’t mean I was dead. It was only after
Melissa showed up to our room and accidentally let it slip that Justin had a date that I finally made up my mind. She apologized profusely for telling me, but I reassured her it was fine. It was just clarification that he wasn’t there for me and probably never would be.

With my mind now made up, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom to get ready for Jacob’s party. I was in the shower when Melissa knocked on the door.

“Come in,” I called out.

“Hey, so Rob and I are going to see that new scary movie that’s supposed to be pretty decent. Do you want to go with us?”

“Can’t. I’m going to a party.”

“You are?” she asked, sounding pleased.

“Yeah. You know Jacob Miller? It’s his party.”

“That’s good. You’ve been cooped up in our room for weeks.”

“I haven’t felt like getting out much,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Maybe Rob can set you up . . .” She trailed off as I pulled the shower curtain aside to reveal my incredulous look.

“Um, Mel, have you forgotten that I’m pregnant?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, looking sheepish. “I’m such a ditz sometimes. I forgot.”

“I wish I could,” I said wistfully, closing the shower curtain.

I could hear Melissa muttering under her breath about being an airhead before she closed the bathroom door behind her.

By the time I was finished in the bathroom, Melissa was already gone. I found another of her famous sticky notes on
my dresser, apologizing for her “airheadiness.” I laughed at her made-up word. Despite everything going on in my life at the moment, I had to love Melissa. She was the one constant that kept me grounded. I didn’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have her to lean on.

Grabbing a pen, I scrawled a short return message, telling her not to be a dork, that I loved her “airheadiness” and all. I lugged my heavy book bag off the floor and dug around inside, trying to find my wallet. The pamphlets I had collected from the clinics made it damn near impossible to find anything, so I pulled them out. Sorting through them, I tossed anything dealing with STDs and safe sex into the trash can. In the end, I only kept three: one that provided a breakdown of the nine months of pregnancy, one that discussed adoption, and one about abortion. I couldn’t help grimacing at the captions and pictures of the pregnancy pamphlet. I wasn’t a wimp, but the idea of pushing a watermelon-sized human out of my body didn’t sit well. The one picture that really twisted my guts into knots showed a glowing woman holding her newborn baby in her arms. For weeks I’d refused to think about what was actually happening in my body and what I would have if I went through all nine months of pregnancy. Looking at the picture of the mother holding her baby, everything suddenly got real. In seven and a half months, that could be me. The idea frightened me to the core, but a small part of me couldn’t help feeling awestruck at the idea. My life would never be the same if I kept the baby. Everything I had worked for would change in the blink of an eye.

Next, I opened the pamphlet dealing with adoption. It was nothing but testimonials by couples who claimed my child could be the miracle they so desperately wanted. I studied their faces critically. I could go that route. I could make a difference in someone’s life. Maybe I could work it out with the school and not lose my scholarship. If I took summer classes, I could lighten my load in the fall when the baby would be due. It was at least worth checking into.

Feeling more in control than I had in weeks, I placed the pregnancy and abortion pamphlets in my bag. I debated pitching the abortion pamphlet but instead tossed it on my desk. I wasn’t completely sure which route I would choose, and I could at least read over it when I got home.

I headed out for the party, ready to escape all the heavy decisions that seemed to be saturating the room. The walk to Jacob’s apartment off campus was relatively short, and the place was easy enough to find by the noise level throbbing out of the building. I felt sympathetic to any of his neighbors who weren’t invited to the party, although judging by the number of people littered throughout the hallway and into his apartment, it looked like the whole building was there.

Loud music made the floor beneath my feet vibrate as I looked around for Jacob. Pushing into his apartment through the wall of bodies was almost overwhelming. Someone I didn’t even know handed me a red Solo cup filled to the brim with beer. My stomach turned as the smell of the beer wafted up. Trying not to breathe through my nose, I handed the cup to a willing stranger, who sucked it down like a parched survivor
on a deserted island. To avoid any other alcohol handouts, I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets as I continued in vain to search for Jacob.

“Hey, aren’t you in my sex education class?” some guy slurred in my face. He grinned at me, obviously pleased with what he thought was a clever pickup line. Of course, all his charm left when he clutched my arm so he could remain upright.

“Nope,” I said, prying his fingers away from my bicep. I turned my back on him as I heard him use the same line on another girl, who giggled.

A new wave of bodies entered the apartment, making it harder to move. I was already beginning to regret my rash decision to attend the party. I hated tight spaces and I was beginning to reach my limit. A few of the faces around me looked vaguely familiar, but in truth, I really didn’t know anyone here. Inching toward the door, I decided maybe I’d crash Rob and Melissa’s date since I wasn’t in the mood to return to the dorm. I was scanning the room one last time for Jacob so I could tell him I was leaving when my eyes landed on a couple on the far side of the room.

My heart stuttered as I took in the leggy blonde perched on the lap of the only guy to whom I had ever said
I love you
. I wanted to look away and yet, my eyes refused to move. I watched as Justin ran his hand up the back of her shirt, urging her closer so he could claim her lips. Stomach bile churned its way up my throat as I watched them play tonsil hockey for the world to see. No longer able to be in the same vicinity with him, I backed toward the door, not caring who I bumped
along the way. My eyes never left the train wreck in front of me. It was as if I were witnessing a crime that I couldn’t look away from. I was almost home free when the inevitable happened.

Maybe he sensed my presence, or maybe God just felt I needed to suffer a little more.

I was almost out the door when Justin broke the kiss and looked my way. Dozens of memories flooded me as my eyes clashed with the guy who had stolen my heart so completely. A flash of something I couldn’t discern crossed his face before it was replaced by the cocky grin that had always driven me nuts. He wrapped his arms tightly around the leggy blonde, making it clear I had been replaced.

Flashing him a brittle smile to show I didn’t care, I left the apartment without a backward glance. Each step I took was painful, like I was walking across broken pieces of my own heart.

I made my way through the crowd in the hallway, toward the stairs that led to the first floor. My mind was on autopilot as I willed back my tears. Crying in front of a bunch of strangers was not an option. The stairs were almost as busy as the hallway and I had to push past several jocks who were blocking the way. I was halfway down when they decided to show off their testosterone and started shoving each other. Before I could react, someone stumbled into me, making me pitch forward. Drunken hands reached out to steady me, but they grasped uselessly at thin air as the force of the shove sent me the rest of the way down the stairs.

I hit the pavement hard, feeling all the pain to match. Several people gasped while more laughed as I landed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs.

“Holy shit, you totally fell down the stairs,” a girl said, stating the obvious.

“No shit,” I muttered, sitting up embarrassed. Was there no end to my shame? I straightened my legs, fighting a string of curses as they protested. “Great,” I said, grimacing at the holes in the knees of my jeans. From the few lights around the apartment building, I could see both knees were glossy with blood.

“Are you okay?” the same girl asked, reaching a hand down to help me up.

“I’ll live,” I answered, grunting with pain when my scraped hand made contact with hers.

“Do you need to go the hospital?” she asked, looking concerned.

“No, I’m fine. Thanks for helping me up since the asshole who pushed me down the stairs doesn’t seem to care,” I said in the direction of the offending idiot, who was still screwing around with his buddies.

“Grant pushed you? What a dick.”

“Truth,” I said. “Thanks for your help,” I added as I started to shuffle away.

“Hey, wait. Are you sure you’re okay?” she called.

“I’m fine,” I reassured her, even though each step I took made everything hurt. My knees seemed to have taken the brunt of my fall, but my left side felt tender to the touch, cluing
me that I must have landed there also. Reflecting back on my fall at least got me home without any thoughts of Justin. It was only after I had maneuvered out of my ripped jeans and took stock of the large bruise on my left side that I finally allowed Justin to enter my mind again. I stepped into a hot shower, letting the water cascade over my stinging raw skin. Everything ran through my mind at once. Justin, the baby inside me, and the decisions I needed to make. My earlier optimism had faded and I was once again indecisive about what I wanted to do.

Switching off the water, I grabbed my towel and was in the process of drying when a sharp pain speared across my abdomen, making me gasp in pain. I clutched my stomach, and a moment later the pain was gone as fast as it had come on. For the first time since my fall, I thought about the baby. I rubbed my hand possessively over my stomach, which had only recently started to bulge. Nothing noticeable when my clothes were on, but something I could feel when I tried to button my jeans, which had gotten a little snug. I sat on the toilet seat lid for several moments, making sure the pain was truly gone and not coming back. After several pain-free minutes had passed, I carefully pulled on my yoga pants and shrugged into an oversized sweatshirt. Limping out of the bathroom, I climbed onto my bed and pulled my comforter up to my chin, placing my hands on my belly as if I could protect the fetus from any more harm.

Before I fell asleep, I reflected on what this sudden possessiveness meant for the life inside me. Did it mean I had ruled out abortion? Was I committing to carry the baby for another
seven months? My hands on my belly made it clear I was already starting to care. I wondered if that was a good thing. Maybe I had waited too long to make my decision. I drifted asleep to the mental picture of a baby swaddled in blankets and cradled in my arms.