Deadbeat

by Amy Sparling

  "This?" Of course I know what she means, and I'm actually glad I won't be forced into anymore compromising situations with her. But – ouch.

  "Me and you. I mean, we're not dating but we're also not hooking up, so… I think it's run its course, ya know?"

  I nod.

  "Cool." She leans over and kisses me on the cheek, then grabs her purse off the floor. "My friend is coming to pick me up, and should be here any second, so I'll just let myself out."

  "Cool," I say. But it isn't cool. Before she's out of my door, the rumble of a sports car squeals to a stop in front of my house. She runs down the hallway and out the front door, letting it slam closed behind her.

  The car drives away and I fall back against my bed, ignoring the fruity scent of her perfume that is now embedded into my comforter.

  Thirty-six weeks.

  Only four left.

  Elisa has dropped out of school.

  And I am so completely alone.

  I lay here for an amount of time that is neither long, nor short. It just is. My soul is a heavy, rusty weight between my shoulder blades. I miss Elisa. I kind of miss Sarah – at least she took the pain away. My phone rings. A classic rock ring tone signals my brother is calling. He's about the only person in the world who could make me answer my phone right now.

  "Hello?"

  "Dude." His voice is giddy.

  "Yeah? Make it fast, I'm busy." Busy being a worthless asshole.

  "You know how Tamara is a nurse?" he says, his voice gushy like one of those hags from Sex in the City.

  "What is your point?"

  "Well she works in the maternity ward, and she was telling me about this pregnant teenager she's been taking care of."

  My stomach tightens. David wasn't supposed to know about Elisa – my dad had made it perfectly clear that no one would know about it. So why is he talking about pregnant teenagers?

  "I don't care," I say, hoping to end the conversation before I throw up.

  "No! Dude, you will care," he continues. "So she's talking about this girl, right? And then she says her name is Elisa. Elisa! Your Elisa. Can you believe it?"

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I start, but he's still talking so he doesn't hear me.

  "I heard ya'll broke up, but I can't believe that girl was messing around so quickly. I mean, God, what a slut."

  "She's not a slut."

  "Clearly she is, bro."

  My voice catches in my throat. When I don't say anything else, he starts talking about how awesome Tamara is and how he's thinking of asking her to move in with him. But I don't really hear a word he's saying.

  David thinks Elisa's pregnant by someone else. I feel like explaining everything to him or hanging up – I can't decide which one to do. And right then my eye catches the calendar, on today's date marked thirty-six. The numbers go to forty. I walk to the calendar and flip the page, just like Sarah had done. I stare at the square for May nineteenth until my eyes start to burn.

  If Elisa has four more weeks until her due date, why is she in the hospital now?

  "David, did Tamara say why she's in the hospital? I don't think she's due for a while."

  "Yeah, some kind of baby complications. I think they put her in ICU."

  "What?" I choke out. The floor seems to drop out from under me, yet I remain standing.

  His voice softens. "Yeah. Or maybe they're just thinking about moving her to ICU. I don't remember."

  "Well yes or no?" I ask, through clenched teeth.

  "I don't know."

  "God…"

  He takes a breath, and I can feel the realization setting in. "Oh shit, Jeremy. Are you a part of this?"

  I nod, knowing he can't see me, but finally I find my voice. "Yes."

  "Do mom and dad…?"

  "Yes," I say.

  "Why wasn't I told about this?"

  "Because they wanted to keep it a secret. Dad doesn't want me to be a part of it and Elisa and I broke up, so it's just best to pretend it never happened I guess." It's obvious that I didn't mean a word I just said. David lets out a long breath of air.

  "Bro, I love you. And I can't let you just walk away from a baby. Your baby."

  "I can't exactly go back now," I say. Leaving the calendar, I fall back into my bed and bury my head into my pillow.

  "Yes, you can. You absolutely can and you should."

  "I can't ditch college."

  "You can still go to college. You could go to State, and it's just down the road."

  "Fuck that."

  "Well why did you break up in the first place? Elisa is a great girl."

  He's asking questions that tear through my defenses and hit emotional receptors that I was sure I had banished from existence. I don't want to think about any of this, yet I am. And my eyes are starting to burn but I won't let them cry. "We just kept fighting a lot, about the baby and about our future and stuff. I couldn't handle it."

  "Germ, you have to man up. You can't run away like this."

  "It's too late," I say. I hope he doesn't notice the shaking in my voice.

  "It's not too late. Elisa's in the hospital. For all you know, she could be dying. You should be at her side right now."

  "Yes it is." I fill with anger to repress the pain.

  "Jeremy-"

  "I said it's too late." I hang up the phone, and then shove it under my pillow, wishing it was a hole big enough for me to fall into – and never resurface.

  Chapter 21

  Suffice it to say, I'm depressed. And everyone seems to notice, but no one seems to give a damn. For the last week, I've spent eight hours a day being a zombie at school, going through the motions of doing work but not actually doing anything. And the other sixteen hours a day – well, I've spent them in my room. Watching TV mostly – occasionally looking at my phone and wondering if I should call her.

  But I can't call her.

  And if she really is in the hospital, I doubt she has her phone on her anyway. And it would be a million times worse if her mom answered instead of her.

  I don't sleep at night. And while I still eat, it's not nearly as much as usual. I dropped my work schedule back to weekends only last week, saying I was studying hard for finals. All of this extra free time gave me even more time to sit on my bed and think about her.

  The bell rings for lunch. I swoop down and grab my backpack that sat at the foot of my desk, unopened all period. I didn't do any work today and the teacher didn't say a word. It's as if the entire faculty knows what I did.

  Although Austin hasn't exactly ditched me lately, he hasn't been an upstanding outstanding friend in my time of need either. He still sits with the basketball team during lunch, and they've made it clear that they don't want anything to do with me.

  The news of Elisa being in the hospital had spread like wildfire. I don't know who found out and told everyone – probably one of her stupid friends – but it happened. And only now did everyone who I had considered a friend decide to hate me. It doesn't make sense either, because there are a dozen other pregnant girls in the school and no one hates their boyfriends.

  Of course, none of those guys have broken up with their girlfriends. Yet. And although I may have been the one to say the final break up words, I'm not the bad guy here. Elisa and I got to the point where all we did was fight, and she wanted to get married and I would rather gouge my eyes out than marry this young. I'm starting to hate that we broke up. Every time I realize this, I try to force those feelings of regret deep down in the darkest recess of my brain. Maybe we shouldn't have broken up, but we did. I can't take that back now. It's not her, really. It's me.

  I walk through the hallway, surrounded by my peers and every single one of them is glaring at me. Even the ones who aren't looking in my direction – it's like they're glaring at me with their minds. Or maybe I'm just imagining it. Maybe I've gone crazy, like some kind of murderer who can't cope with his choices in life.

  When I get to the cafeteria, I keep on walking. I head to my tr
uck and get some fast food. Then I drive back to school and eat it in the parking lot. A double cheeseburger has never tasted so bitter.

  It sucks that everyone hates me now, but it sucks even more that I hate me. I miss Elisa. I'm worried about Elisa. I know there is this thing inside of her that has its own soul, and life, and future.

  And I could go back and fix everything so that I could be in that future.

  After school, I head home and hide out in my room, expecting to spend the afternoon sitting on my bed thinking about what a fuck up I am until Mom yells that dinner is ready. After five minutes of this shit, I realize I can't live life like this.

  So like a man, I decide to talk to my dad. Maybe he will change his mind now, maybe he'll have better advice for me than just telling me I'm on my own. Maybe if I tell him that I truly miss Elisa, he will tell me to take her back. I find him in the living room.

  "What's up, Dad?" I plop into the couch next to this arm chair.

  "Watchin' the game."

  "What's been up?" I ask, hoping he will actually look over at me.

  "Didn't you just ask me that?" he scowls, turning up the volume on the TV.

  "I was just wondering what's been going on with you, and stuff," I trail off. Of course he's going to make this hard. Dad and I don't have talks. The only things we talk about are cars, basketball and what's for dinner. This is stupid. I'm an idiot for thinking that my father would have a real father-like talk with me.

  I guess Elisa and I are the same in some ways.

  I stand, hoping to slink out of the living room but Dad has set down his beer and is now staring at me. "What's wrong?"

  "Oh," I sit. "I've just been thinking about a lot of stuff lately." It's a lame thing to say but how exactly to say I miss my girlfriend but you don't want me to be a part of her life?

  "I know what you mean," Dad says.

  "You do?" I ask, as relief floods over me. Maybe this will be a good talk after all.

  "Yes, and I'm proud of you son. You chose your future over a dumb mistake." He picks up his beer and takes a sip. "When you're a grown up with a college education and a great job, you'll realize how smart it was."

  I nod, unable to say anything. This isn't a good talk. My heart aches more than ever.

  Back in my room, I try to make some sense out of what Dad had said. But the future me wouldn't feel that way – like I had made the right decision in throwing away my girlfriend and future child.

  My brother comes to dinner tonight. He's sitting at the table and catches my eye when I walk into the kitchen. And he's staring at me like we need to talk, but I ignore him and take my place at the table.

  Mom sets the food on the table. Dad filters in from the living room, and now we're all sitting at the table having a nice family dinner. Just like what normal functioning families do.

  Dad asks David about his job.

  "Well I'm not gonna lie, Pops," David says, setting down his fork and talking in his fancy professional voice. "The business is hard, and it demands a lot of my time and energy. But it's totally worth it."

  Dad nods in approval and David looks over at me. And he adds, "I have a lot of responsibilities and, like a man, I make sure I fulfill them."

  Avoiding his look, I turn my attention toward my food. Only I'm not really eating it.

  Dad says, "That's good, son. It almost makes it worth the fifty grand I paid for your college."

  David scoffs. "It was well worth it. I'll pay you back some day – I'll make sure you get a superior retirement home."

  They laugh.

  Dad turns to me. "Thank God Jeremy has a scholarship. I don't think I could afford another four years of this."

  Mom nods. "I'm so proud of him." She reaches across the table and pats my arm. David is staring at me and I want to stab my fork straight into his eye.

  David says, "Thanks for dinner, Mom. I feel bad that I'm only coming over because I have a date with Tamara later."

  "How is she doing?" Mom asks.

  "Oh she's great. She's been working her ass off at the hospital – that maternity ward is crazy. She even told me this insane story about a pregnant seventeen-year-old who just got admitted-"

  My stomach knots. Just hearing the word maternity makes me want to throw up. Mom and Dad look at each other, and then they both try to change the subject at the same time.

  "So our garden is-"

  "My boss has been-"

  "You go first," Dad tells Mom.

  "Our garden is doing so well, David. Those sunflowers we planted are about six feet tall now, it's amazing."

  David smiles. "That's nice. I should bring Tamara by to see them, she loves flowers. She has to deal with them in the maternity ward all the time, and she's always hinting to me to buy her some."

  He's playing it off like he's just making small talk but I swear he's trying to drive me insane. He keeps glancing at me, and although he's smiling at our parents, the smile turns sinister when it's directed at me.

  The moment I shove the last bite of food into my mouth, I excuse myself, clear off my plate and run to my room. David has a date tonight so he won't have time to bother me.

  There's a knock on my door.

  "What, Mom?"

  "It's not your mother," David says.

  "Well then go away, I'm busy." I sit motionless on my bed, holding my breath in anticipation. Just turn around and leave.

  The door swings open, and my brother stands there with this oops look on his face. "Well, now that the door is open…" he says, letting himself inside my room. Like an idiot, I hadn't locked the door.

  "What do you want? Hurry up." I grab my cell phone and click through the menu screen, pretending to be deep in thought. There is absolutely nothing of interest on my phone, and no one has called it in days, but David doesn't know that.

  "Ignore me all you want, but one day you'll thank me."

  "Thank you for what? Bothering me when I'm clearly busy?"

  He walks toward me and before I've realized it, he's snatched my phone from my hand. "Wireless network settings?" In one hand, he closes my phone, and with the other one he makes a jerk off motion. "You aren't busy."

  Falling back on my bed, I grab a pillow and smoosh it over my face. "I don't want to talk about it."

  The bed wobbles a bit as he lays down next to me. I continue to stare into the darkness of my pillow. He says, "Jerm. I don't know why Mom and Dad are so cool with this. You can't just ignore Elisa."

  I groan. He punches the pillow, hitting me right in the nose. I want to cry out in pain but I hold it back.

  "You're going to be a dad, don't you get that? You need to start acting like it."

  "I'm a kid, not a dad."

  "Yeah, well Elisa is a kid too and she's sure as shit going to be a mother in a week or so."

  "Week? She has three weeks left," I say. Peeking out from the corner of my pillow, I squint at the calendar and count three more weeks until May nineteenth.

  "Due dates are just estimates, man. She's in the hospital, it's not uncommon for them to have the baby early just to save it."

  "Why would it need saving?" I turn to look at him. He's staring at the ceiling, hands behind his head.

  "Babies need saving all the time. Especially if Elisa doesn't make it."

  "What?" I throw the pillow off the bed, and sit up. He just continues laying there and doesn't even look at me. He used to be my best friend and my hero, but right now he's just a douche dating the hot chick down the road.

  "Yeah, well she's in serious condition, Tamara said."

  "What are you saying? Is she going to die?"

  He shrugs.

  "Fucking tell me!" I scream, loud enough for our parents to hear.

  "No man," he says after a long silence. "She won't die. I'm just trying to make you see all the different scenarios. I mean, I guess she could die."

  "You're an asshole," I say.

  "You don't know what's going to happen to her, but chances are, the baby is fine.
You need to get yourself to the hospital and be there when that baby is born. It needs you, Jeremy."

  "I don't want a stupid baby." I'm pacing across my room now, too riled up to sit down.

  "You knew where babies came from before you decided to have sex."

  "Clearly." I'm done with this stupid conversation. My brother doesn't know anything. He's never even had a girl to have sex with before now, so fuck him. I'd like to see him deal with having a baby.

  "I'm leaving," I say, voice as hard and cold as I can manage. And then I flip off the light to my own bedroom and storm out to my truck without saying goodbye to anyone.

  Another week goes by and every day is worse than the one before it. School is an eight-hour nightmare that I never, ever wake up from.

  In English, I stare straight ahead at the whiteboard, unwilling to look at the empty desk where Elisa used to sit. It could contain a black hole now for all I know. I refuse to look over there.

  I'm sitting in class. There're thirty minutes left until the bell rings. The last thirty minutes of the day used to be refreshing, bringing me the satisfaction that school will soon be over and I'll be free for the evening. Free to be with Elisa, free to hang out with friends.

  But now it could be three years left until that damn bell rings, and it wouldn't make a difference. I am a nothing now. I have no life worth living. No friends. No girlfriend. Not even a single family member is on my side.

  The only person who still talks to me is Austin, but even he hasn't called in days. He spends every lunch period snuggled up with Maci in the band geek section of the cafeteria. My only friend in the world has abandoned me for a girl. And girls are the reason I'm in this mess to begin with.

  Still, it wouldn't hurt to try. Since he is the only person still talking to me, maybe he can talk to me. Really talk – man to man. Maybe he can help me get over the worry and guilt I feel for Elisa.

  The more serious Austin's relationship with Maci gets, the more feminine and ridiculous his room is. The last time I was over here, his room absolutely did not have a dozen framed photos of the happy couple. And it didn't have a hot pink bean bag, or fuzzy slippers at the foot of the bed…