by Bailey B
She turns to me. Her green eyes shining in the passing lights. “Those are some big words, Logan. You can’t possibly know what the future brings.”
I pull into my driveway and hold her hand a little tighter. Shifting the car into park, I turn in my seat and look her dead in the eye. “There is no life without you, only a veil of darkness. My world revolves around you, craving your light. My words aren’t thoughtless sentences, they are promises, Danika. A promise to always be yours even if you don’t want to be mine.”
Danika shakes her head and looks up at the ceiling. Despite her efforts, a single tear breaks free, running down her cheek. “Don’t do this Logan. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I never do.” I reach up and brush her tear away with my knuckle. She leans into my hand and for the first time since getting in the car I feel her warmth penetrate my skin. We’re going to be alright. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”
She looks down at her lap, tears spilling over her cheeks. “I’m pregnant.”
53
Logan
I didn’t hear her right. I couldn’t have. That shot of whiskey must have been stronger than I realized, or maybe my tolerance is getting lower because that can’t be what she said. “What do you mean you're pregnant?”
“It’s not a hard concept, Logan,” Danika huffs. She reaches for the handle and gets out of the car. She’s pissed which I don't understand because she can’t be pregnant. We were always safe. Careful.
I take a breath and exhale loudly. There has to be some mistake. Danika leans against my trunk, arms crossed, looking up at the sky. She’s absolutely stunning, glowing under the moonlight. “How far along are you?”
She shrugs, refusing to look at me. “I don’t know. Six, maybe seven weeks.”
I bite my lip, trying to figure out when it would have happened. End of November. She’s known about the baby since November and didn’t tell me? Fire bubbles in my veins. This is a huge secret. One she never should have kept because now we don’t have as many options. “What the hell, Danika! How long have you been keeping this from me?”
She shrugs and wipes her cheek. I get it, this is hard for her. But what about me? I can cope with the fact that she’s pregnant. Fine. We’ll deal with it however she wants. What I don’t understand is how she could keep such a big secret from me. Any secret for that matter. “Were you even visiting your grandmother this past week?”
Danika shakes her head.
I run my hands through my hair and pull at the roots. She’s lied. I’m struggling to wrap my brain around everything but with the court case already messing with head I’m struggling. “What the fuck Danika? What else are you hiding?”
“Nothing I swear.” She reaches for my arm but I pull away and take a step back. Tears stream down her cheeks, but they disgust me. How can she cry on cue? Use them to manipulate me into feeling sorry for her. I bet if I wasn’t so pissed off right now, she wouldn’t shed a tear.
I turn and walk up the drive to the porch. The baby is whatever. Not ideal, but these things happen. The lying and the secrets are something else altogether. How do I know this wasn’t planned? She provided the condom that broke. She insisted on taking the morning after pill at her house. Alone. For all I know, she chucked it in the trash and has been counting down the days to tell me about the baby.
“Logan! Please talk to me,” Danika cries.
I slam the door shut, ignoring her and the curious expression on Piper’s face. I feel Piper’s eyes follow me down the hallway, but I could care less. My girlfriend has been lying to me for weeks. Keeping the biggest secret she could possibly hold. I bury my face in my pillow, fighting my own tears because I’ve never felt more betrayed in my life.
I lie in bed the next morning, the dinging of my phone sounding before my alarms. I glance at the screen and chuck it across the room. Eight missed calls. Thirty-two text messages. Funny how when Danika supposedly was with her Nona, she could only text me twice a day and now she won’t stop. My mind has been running rampant with questions and finding its own torturous ways to answer them. What was she really doing last week? Going to baby appointments without you.
I grab the pillow beside me and cover my face, exhaling a silent scream into it. I don’t feel any better. If anything, I feel worse. I stay like that, hiding in my self-created darkness until there’s a rapping at my door.
“Go away,” I yell to whoever is knocking.
It opens, meaning it’s one of two women in my life. I cringe, peeking under the edge of the pillowcase then exhale a small breath of relief as I toss the pillow to my side. It’s not my lying and possibly cheating girlfriend.
“Danika has been texting me all night,” Piper says, sitting on the edge of my bed. She’s wearing a pair of Cooper’s basketball shorts and an old concert T-shirt without a stitch of makeup on her face. It’s the best I’ve seen Piper look in months.
“I didn’t know she had your number.”
Piper shrugs. “Not like a bunch of people want it. Danika asked for it a while back and I gave it to her.”
I roll onto my side, pulling my blanket over my body like a cocoon. I don’t want to talk about Danika. She was the one person I thought I could trust. And now…I don’t know what to think. Figures. “Go away, Piper.”
The end of my bed lifts. I half expect Piper to say something about what’s going on. Instead she closes the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Too. Many. Thoughts.
My phone dings again a few hours later. I pry myself out of bed, knowing I should reply but unsure of what to say. All of Danika’s messages are basically the same, including the newest.
Danika: Logan we have to talk.
Danika: I’m sorry I lied about where I was, but I needed time to figure everything out.
Danika: Please. Please. Tell me you’re okay?
Danika: I’m trying to be understanding, Logan but you’ve got to give me something.
Danika: Don’t push me away, Logan. I need you.
I shut my phone off again, not wanting to see anymore.
School starts again on Monday. I’m dreading it. I’m not ready to face Danika. Piper calls me a coward, and I’ll accept that title but I’m a coward who’s hurting. Everyday there’s new articles about kids coming forward about Dr. Shaffer. There are more families than we’d originally thought and Dad has agreed to help every one of them pro-bono—turns out he does have a heart—and the one person I’m dying to talk to is the person I’m pissed off with.
So, not only do I not trust my girlfriend, I can’t talk to my best friend because they are the same person.
I’m sitting on the floor, guitar in hand, picking at the strings when my door flies open. Piper storms into my room, stopping only briefly to find me with her gaze, then starts throwing the books on my desk at me. Her aim is shit, but eventually one knocks me in the head.
I set my guitar on the ground and raise my arms defensively. “What the hell, Piper?”
She stops throwing things and stomps over to me, hands on her hips. “No. You what the hell, Logan. How could you?”
I stand, forcing Piper to look up at me. Like Cooper I’m a head taller than she is, and I’ll use every inch of my height to regain dominance in this conversation. “You’ve got to be more specific there, Piper. I’ve done a lot of shit in my life.”
“Danika!” Piper yells. “She’s scared and pregnant and you’re avoiding her.” She slaps me across the face.
I lick my lip and step around her tiny body, closing the door. This isn’t a conversation I want anyone hearing. Especially my mother. She’ll throw a fit and probably kick me out of the house. However, if Cooper hypothetically knocked Piper up, I’m pretty sure mom would be throwing a party. I get that she hates my dad, and I get that I remind her of him, but it’s just not fucking fair.
“Have you told anyone?”
Piper rears back, bunching her eyebrows together. “Of course not.”
“Good. Keep i
t that way. It’s probably not even mine.”
She slaps me again, earning a frustrated grunt. I’m about tired of her hitting me. “You’re a dick. That girl is so in love with you, she’d cut off her left tit before cheating.”
“Then why hide it from me?” I boom, my emotions getting the best of me. I haven’t talked to anyone about what’s happening. It feels good to get some of it off my chest. “She’s like eight weeks pregnant.”
“You’re a fucking idiot.” Piper crosses her arms. She grunts and stares at me like I’m stupid. “You do realize she’s like at the most three weeks pregnant. Right?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Piper pulls her phone out of her boobs and starts tapping away at the screen. “Doctors track that kind of stuff based on her last period, which sounds like it was right around Thanksgiving. Meaning she missed hers at the end of December and took a test.”
“That’s confusing.”
“Tell me about it. I spent a solid hour Googling that shit to explain it right because you won’t call her back.” Piper shoves her phone in my face, the screen open to some pregnancy mumbo-jumbo.
I skim over it, feeling like a jerk for assuming Danika would cheat on me but still a little salty. “Whatever. She still lied and kept it from me.”
“Really, Logan? You’re mad because Danika sat on the test results for a week while she decided whether or not to keep her baby? She’s eighteen, with her whole life ahead of her. That’s a huge decision! I’d need more than a week to figure out what I would do if I was in her shoes.”
“It’s not her decision to make alone.” I hand Piper her phone back, pissed off for a whole new reason. Danika has already decided what she’s doing with her child. Our child. She should have told me as soon as she found out she was pregnant and let me shoulder some of that burden.
“Have you given her much of an option? The abortion window is small. I’m not saying that’s what she chose, but if that's what she wanted to talk about, you guys are about out of time.”
I run my hand through my hair. The pit of my stomach dropping to my feet. I really need a drink but refuse to turn into my father. Although, by the way I’ve been acting, it seems like I’m halfway to walking in his shoes. Maybe Mom does have a reason to hate me after all. “Shit. I’ve been a dick. Haven’t I?”
Piper nods, a triumphant smirk on her face. This girl hardly ever smiles, especially since her incident. Even if the smirk is to rub my nose in her win, I’m glad to see it. “A massive dick.” She bends down and grabs my phone from its new home on the floor beside my dresser. “Call your girlfriend. She shouldn’t have to do this alone.”
Me: Can we talk?
Danika: No need. The decision has been made. Everything will be taken care of on Tuesday.
Me: Want me to go with you?
Danika: No.
Me: What time are you leaving?
Danika: Early.
Me: Can I see you?
Danika: I don’t think that’s a good idea. I won’t be able to go through with it if I do.
Me: Ok. I’m sorry for being a jerk. I love you Dani.
There’s a long pause between my text message and the three little dots on my screen. Each time they appear and disappear, they gut me. I guess this is karma. Finally, finally she writes:
Danika: I love you too. You’ll always be it for me, Logan.
54
Logan
The weekend passes mind-numbingly slow. I thought last week was bad, the hours creeping by, feeding my insecurities. I was wrong. Waiting for Tuesday is worse. I look at the clock again. It’s only 2:42. Only Saturday. I have three more days until I can hold Danika and tell her how sorry I am for how I reacted. Tell her how brave she is and that everything will be okay.
On Monday I don’t go to school, fearful we’ll bump into each other. I spend the day searching the internet for what to expect after an abortion. Outside of smothering Danika with love, Tylenol, and possibly chocolate, there’s nothing I can do.
I spend the rest of the day and most of the night wondering. Is it a boy or a girl—not that it matters at this point. Should I have proposed? Is that still the right thing to do? I mean I could easily see myself spending the rest of my life with Danika, but is that what she wants? Would she even say yes? I know I’ve been a dick in the past, but I royally screwed this situation up. Is it even possible to fix the damage I’ve done? I don’t sleep. Too many questions. Too many thoughts.
By the time the sun rises, I have a plan. I will be better. I have to be. Danika is the most important person in my life. I need to show her as much.
I watch the clock. Each minute is a lifetime in and of itself. I know Danika doesn’t want to see me and I know I should respect her wishes, but she needs to know I’m all in. No matter what she wants. I’m. In. Finally, when it reaches seven o’clock, I decide it’s late enough to go over.
I barely make it out the door before my heart sinks to my feet. Mr. Winters’ car is gone. Their house is empty and dark. I’ve missed them. Missed my opportunity to let Danika know that whatever comes our way, I’ll be her rock.
I step onto the bottom step of my entryway and drop my face into my palms. I always fuck things up. Somehow, someway, I make a mess of things.
Hours pass, the day fading into night before Mr. Winters green sedan pulls into the driveway. I rush over to the passenger side, prepared to help Danika out of the car. Everything I’ve read says she will be hurting, the pain ranging from mild discomfort to unbearable.
“Logan,” Mr. Winters exhales. He sounds tired. I get it, this has been a long day for him, but for me it’s been a long week. Hell, it’s been over two weeks since I’ve taken an easy breath. “She’s not here.”
I look in the window, dumbfounded. The passenger seat is empty. The back seat is empty. Danika’s not anywhere in this car and I’m officially freaking out. “What do you mean she’s not here? Did something happen?”
Mr. Winters shakes his head and runs his hand over his face. “Ah, shit. I thought she told you.”
“Told me what?” I run both my hands through my hair. Did she sign a DNR? Did something go wrong and she bleed out on the table? Where the fuck is my girlfriend? My chest squeezes. I can’t catch a breath. Each inhale feels like it’s being sucked through a straw. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
Mr. Winters walks around the sedan and squeezes my shoulder. “Logan, Danika’s decided to move in with her Nona in Georgia.”
“What?” I look up at him utterly confused. The weight on my lungs builds with each passing second. My head’s spinning. This has to be a dream. Some fucked up dream I’m going to wake from any minute now.
“Nona is her mom's mother, and she’s getting old. We’ve talked about putting Nona in a home, but Danika wouldn’t hear of it.” Mr. Winters guides me closer to my house. My feet move, without my permission, going wherever he takes us.
Nothing he’s saying makes any sense. Where is Danika? What has happened to our baby? “What?”
“The details don’t matter, son. What I’m trying to say is Danika’s gone, Logan and she doesn’t want to come back.”
Epilogue
Logan
Three months later
I stare up at the popcorn ceiling in Danika’s bedroom. I shouldn’t be here for a multitude of reasons, the top being that Mr. Winters could charge me with breaking and entering, but I can’t stay away. The room still smells like Danika, although the scent is fading. I’ve sniffed every shampoo, soap, and perfume bottle I could find in every store I’ve gone into and have yet to find the particular blend that is Danika. Soon this room won’t have her smell anymore and that terrifies me.
I bring the rim of my sprite bottle to my lips. I carry one everywhere I go these days, the mixture gradually becoming more vodka and less Sprite, but it helps. The ache that ripples through me from the moment I wake up becomes more bearable with each sip, but it doesn’t go away.
I never wanted to be this person, a man who depends on a crutch to get through life, but sometimes our paths are chosen for us. No matter what, though, I will not turn into my father. When he drank, he was both verbally and physically abusive. Drinking amplified his problems. It dulls mine.
Tonight I need a drink more than ever. It’s prom. The dance Danika promised we’d go to together. I had it all planned out too. I found a horse drawn carriage company down in West Palm that was willing to transport their items up here. Our house is only fifteen minutes by car to the Horizon Hotel, roughly thirty by horse. We’d take the carriage to the hotel and ride the private glass elevator to the penthouse suite, where I planned to hire a private chef to cook for us. Once the dinner was over, we’d go down to the dance and enjoy the night. I take another sip, closing my eyes. Tonight would have been perfect.
My phone vibrates beside me. I open my eyes, unsure of when or how long I’ve been asleep. Orange light peeks through the curtains. It’s early. I reach for the Sprite bottle that’s rolled across the floor and fallen off the bed.
My phone buzzes again. Over and over. No stopping, which means it’s a phone call. I give up my attempt at getting my drink and swipe at my phone screen. “What?”
“Where are you?” Mom asks. Her voice shakes like she’s been crying. I force myself to pay attention and not fall back asleep. I’m tired a lot lately.
“Not far. Why?” It’s not a lie, but I’m not going to openly admit that I passed out in Danika’s bed again.
“Piper’s been shot!” Mom cries. “Cooper is with her at the hospital.”
