Aleecia

by Maggie Wells

  Aleecia

  Nine Months: Book #2

  Written by Maggie Wells

  Copyright © 2016 by Abdo Consulting Group, Inc.

  Published by EPIC Press™

  PO Box 398166

  Minneapolis, MN 55439

  All rights reserved.

  Printed in the United States of America.

  International copyrights reserved in all countries.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without

  written permission from the publisher. EPIC Press™ is trademark

  and logo of Abdo Consulting Group, Inc.

  Cover design by Candice Keimig

  Images for cover art obtained from iStockPhoto.com

  Edited by Lisa Owens

  LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

  Wells, Maggie.

  Aleecia / Maggie Wells.

  p. cm. — (Nine months; #2)

  Summary: Fifteen-year-old Aleecia can’t believe it when Kyle, the 18-year-old

  captain of the football team, falls for her. When she gets pregnant, she tells Kyle, and

  he stands by her—at least for a while. Will their love weather Kyle’s move to college

  while Aleecia waits for him at home in Fort Pierce, Florida? Is he the stand-up guy

  she thought he was?

  ISBN 978-1-68076-191-7 (hardcover)

  1. Teenagers—Sexual behavior—Fiction. 2. Teenage pregnancy—Fiction.

  3. High schools—Fiction. 4. Sex—Fiction. 5. Young adult fiction. I. Title.

  [Fic]—dc23

  2015949411

  This digital document has been produced by Nord Compo.

  To Jett and Dylan, who taught me

  everything I know about pregnancy, childbirth

  and single motherhood

  ONE

  Aleecia

  * * *

  ON A TUESDAY AFTER SCHOOL IN MAY, ALEECIA LOCKED her cherry-red Rally five-speed to the bike rack by the rear employee entrance to Big Lots.

  She found the bike on Craigslist by searching for the keywords “Curb Alert.” The owner had dumped it in front of his house and she dashed out as soon as she saw the posting, running more than half a mile, hoping to find it still there. The paint on the frame was chipped, the handlebar grips were worn and the derailleur was so rusty that the bike would not stay in gear as she pedaled. But she promised herself that if she ever scraped together enough money, she would take to it a bike shop and have it repaired.

  Aleecia scored a lot of free stuff on Craigslist. She found a bookcase for her bedroom, a set of snow tires, and lots of sports equipment: a tennis racket, a bowling ball, and even a basketball hoop.

  “Why do you keep dragging this junk home?” her mother groused on a daily basis. “The garage is full to the rafters. What are you planning to do with all this? And what’s with snow tires? What do we need snow tires for in Fort Pierce, Florida?”

  Aleecia found the allure of free stuff irresistible. Okay, so maybe she wouldn’t ever use the bowling ball or the basketball hoop. But the bike was different. The bike gave her freedom. Aleecia rode fast, celebrating the wind in her hair, the burn in her thighs, and the pounding in her chest. She never felt more alive than when she was riding her bike. After all, Aleecia thought, the bike was the reason I got the job at Big Lots. The nice HR lady asked me if I had my own mode of transportation.

  “Mode?” Aleecia asked.

  “Do you drive?” the nice lady asked.

  “I’m fifteen,” Aleecia said.

  “Of course,” the nice lady said. “Do you have a bike? A motor scooter?”

  Aleecia smiled with pride. “Yes,” she said. “I have a bike.”

  Aleecia punched in the four-digit code on the security pad outside the employee entrance and grabbed the metal handle, yanking the door with all of her strength. The door swung open with a metallic screech of protest. The back hall was deserted, so she punched her time card before walking to the locker room to store her backpack and change into her Big Lots shirt.

  She reported for duty at the manager’s office.

  “Hey, Mr. Martin,” she said. Mr. Martin was a tall, heavy-set man in his thirties.

  “Aleecia,” he said. “Here is your cash drawer. I need you to relieve Brenda on line nine. Let’s go.”

  Mr. Martin escorted Aleecia to the checkout line and stood back, observing while Brenda logged out and Aleecia logged in.

  “I need you to work until closing tonight, Aleecia,” Mr. Martin said.

  “But, it’s a school night, Mr. Martin,” Aleecia said. “I’m not supposed to work past eight o’clock on school nights.”

  “I’m sorry but we’re short on clerks tonight,” Mr. Martin said. “Marlene got beat up by her boyfriend. You can check out the video on YouTube. Can you believe that? YouTube?” He chuckled. Then his voice turned grave. “Yeah, so I am going to need you to work until closing time until further notice—until we hire a new girl or Marlene gets out of the hospital or something.”

  Mr. Martin escorted Brenda back to the office, where she would stand at attention while he counted every dollar and matched it to the register printout.

  I am good at checkout, Aleecia thought. Impatient shoppers aggressively maneuvered their overflowing baskets between lanes, seeking the fastest-moving line. The beeps and boops of Aleecia’s scanner formed the rhythm of her day and telegraphed to everyone in line how much faster she was than the other checkout girls. She enjoyed the competition and prided herself on her accuracy. Having to scan an item a second or third time—well, that’s just plain amateur! Aleecia thought. At the end of each shift, the girl with the biggest drawer and the most receipts received a five-dollar bonus. Aleecia went home most days with a crisp five-dollar bill tucked into the pocket of her cut-off shorts.

  Store traffic slowed after eight p.m., so Aleecia pulled out her science book and hid it under the conveyor belt to steal peeks when nobody was looking. She was head-down, immersed in memorizing the periodic table when she heard a deep voice.

  “Yo.”

  Aleecia startled and knocked her chemistry book to the floor. Kyle was a senior at Westwood High and captain of the football team. He was at least six-foot-four with ebony skin, a devastating smile, and enormous bedroom eyes.

  “You dropped something,” Kyle said.

  “Whoops.” Aleecia quickly bent down to retrieve the book and bumped her head on the conveyor belt.

  “I’m sorry,” Aleecia said. She stood up; her face flushed. She hurriedly started to scan his items.

  “Aleecia, right?” Kyle said.

  Aleecia froze; she held a bottle of Batman shampoo in her hand. He knows my name! she thought. The captain of the football team knows my name?

  “That’s for my little brother,” Kyle said.

  Flustered, Aleecia scanned the item and grabbed another.

  “I didn’t want you to think that I’m into superheroes,” Kyle said. “Not any more, anyway.”

  Aleecia giggled and looked at him. An enormous grin spread across his face and his teeth were dazzling white. She felt her heart fall out of her chest, landing somewhere in the middle of her gut.

  “Great season,” Aleecia said. She continued to scan his items, but the rhythm of beeps and boops slowed. She wanted the conversation to last.

  “You follow football?” Kyle asked.

  “Well, I couldn’t go to all the games this season, obviously.” Aleecia sheepishly gestured toward the cash register. “But the game against Central High—I could not miss that. Even if I had to call in sick that day.”

  Finally, Kyle’s basket was empty. Aleecia told him to swipe his card while she bagged his items and placed them in his cart.

  She batted her eyes at him as she waited for
the receipt to print. Then she held onto one end of the register slip as he took the other and they locked eyes. Flirting! she thought. I am flirting! And he is flirting back! No one has ever flirted with me before!

  “Hey,” Kyle said. “Are you going to the barbecue on Sunday?”

  “What barbecue?” Aleecia said.

  “It’s the end-of-season celebration. It’s at State Park Beach at four o’clock,” Kyle said. “Are you working on Sunday?”

  “No, I’m off on Sunday,” Aleecia said. “Sure, I’d love to go. I’ll see you there?”

  “Okay then,” Kyle said as wheeled his cart toward the exit.

  Aleecia stood and watched him walk away; his gait was graceful, yet forceful. He walked as a lion would, confident in his dominance. He asked me out! she thought. Is this a date? My first date?

  Aleecia floated through the hours to closing, greeting each customer with a beatific smile and scanning items with superhuman speed. Finally, the announcement came over the loudspeaker: “Attention shoppers, the store is closing in ten minutes.”

  Mr. Martin escorted Aleecia to his office and counted her out.

  “Long day?” he asked. “Don’t forget. I need you to close again tomorrow.”

  “Sure, Mr. Martin,” Aleecia said. “Did I make bonus today?”

  “When you work a long shift, you’re not eligible for bonus,” he said.

  Aleecia didn’t even care. She felt like she was floating on air as she unlocked her bike and pedaled home fast, through the night air thick with the buzzing of insects.

  TWO

  Kyle

  * * *

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, KYLE WOKE TO THE SOUND OF the baby wailing and the smell of stale urine. He groaned and, hopping down from the top bunk, poked at his eight-year-old brother, Dwayne, who was curled up at the foot of his mattress.

  “Hey, buddy,” Kyle said. “You wet the bed again. Come on, let’s get you into the tub.”

  Dwayne whimpered and rubbed his eyes as Kyle led him into the bathroom and turned on the water.

  “Don’t tell Mama,” Dwayne said.

  “Give me your pj’s and jump in the tub. I’ll put everything in the washer,” Kyle said. “She won’t find out.”

  Kyle poked his head into his mother’s room. He was relieved to see that she was home, passed out on the bed within a few feet of the crib where Crystal was bouncing up and down on her toes and rattling the rails of her crib. When Crystal saw him, she quieted down. He glanced again at his mother. I never know if I’ll find the bitch here, he thought. She had a tendency to disappear for days on end, leaving Kyle to manage the household. He had to feed and bathe his little brother and sister, and drop them off at daycare and school in the morning. Sometimes, when she had been gone for a stretch and he worried that the kids thought they might never see her again, Kyle would put on his mother’s robe and pull the little ones close to him so they could smell her scent and pretend that she was there.

  His mother didn’t even stir as Kyle tiptoed over to the crib and lifted Crystal out.

  Back in the kitchen, he changed Crystal’s diaper and set her down in her playpen. While he warmed a bottle of formula in the microwave, he gathered all of the soiled sheets and clothes from the bedroom and stuffed everything into the washer. The detergent bottle felt light. He peered inside and made a mental note to add laundry detergent to the shopping list.

  The microwave timer rang and he tested the temperature of the formula on his tongue. Crystal took the bottle and sucked at it eagerly, tracking Kyle’s movements with her eyes.

  Dwayne padded into the kitchen in bare feet, wearing jeans and a Spiderman T-shirt.

  “Watch the baby while I get dressed,” Kyle said, handing Dwayne a bottle of apple juice and a Pop-Tart, fresh out of the toaster. “Be careful, it’s hot.”

  Kyle dropped the baby at his Aunt Georgia’s, and Dwayne at Fairlawn Elementary before driving to Westwood High. The bell rang just as he pulled into the parking lot. He glowered into his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Late again, he thought.

  Kyle walked straight to the assistant principal’s office and joined the line of kids in the hallway. Kyle was a regular in Mrs. Johnson’s office, as he was often late to school. She knew all about his mom and the situation at home. And being captain of the football team afforded him a certain amount of leeway.

  When his turn came, he stepped up to the counter.

  “What’s it today, Kyle?” asked Mrs. Johnson.

  “I had to take care of the kids,” Kyle said.

  “Your mother went AWOL again?” Mrs. Johnson asked. “Do I need to call Social Services?”

  The last time Social Services got involved they had taken Dwayne and Crystal away for a month. Dwayne had been wetting the bed every night since he had returned from the foster home. “No, she is at home,” Kyle said. “She just didn’t get up this morning.”

  Mrs. Johnson gave him a sympathetic smile and handed him the late pass.

  On the way home from football practice, Kyle stopped by Big Lots. He browsed the aisles and loaded his cart with household supplies: detergent, toothpaste, shampoo, tampons (the bitch was always out of tampons), diapers, baby formula, Pop-Tarts, cereal, milk, and cans of pasta. He had managed to select the shopping cart with a bad front left wheel. The cart seemed to have a mind of its own and kept crashing into displays and making a scene.

  He eyed the crowd at checkout and saw that line nine was open. He wrestled with his cart, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. As he reached the belt, he saw Aleecia studying something in what looked like a textbook. Every year, the incoming freshman class was scrutinized for hot girls and seniors got first pick. Kyle had noticed Aleecia right away and he had even thought about asking her out, but he was dating Janelle at the time. I’m just realizing—I haven’t seen her in a while, he thought. She must work a lot. She probably has no idea who I am. He took his time looking her up and down since she was absorbed in her book. He liked the way her breasts strained at her shirt, threatening to burst the top button. She had smooth, pale skin and long, dark, wavy hair.

  “Yo,” Kyle said.

  She looked up at him, startled. Her mouth was open, her lips were ample. He imagined what they would feel like against his. Then her book went crashing to the floor.

  “You dropped something,” Kyle said.

  “Whoops.” Aleecia bent down to pick up the book and Kyle felt bad. She seemed flustered as she started to scan the items on the belt.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Aleecia, right?”

  Aleecia stood there staring at him and holding a tube of Batman shampoo. Kyle was mortified, embarrassed to be shopping for diapers, tampons for his mom, and little-kid shampoo. What must she be thinking?

  “That’s for my little brother,” Kyle said.

  Aleecia didn’t seem to think anything of it. She continued scanning his items.

  He saw an opening. “I didn’t want you to think that I’m into superheroes,” Kyle said. “Not any more, anyway.”

  Then she laughed and looked at him full on. Her tawny eyes sparkled and he turned on the pearly whites. I’ve got her; she’s in my force field, now, he thought.

  “Great season,” Aleecia said.

  So she does know who I am? Kyle thought. The girl is no fool! “You follow football?” Kyle asked.

  “I don’t get to the games often.” Aleecia gestured toward the cash register. “But the game against Central High—that was awesome!”

  Finally his basket was empty. Aleecia said, “Swipe your card.”

  Kyle held his breath as he swiped his debit card, hoping it would be approved. He had his state-issued SNAP card tucked into his wallet, but he didn’t want to use food stamps in front of Aleecia. Growing up in Ft. Pierce was about keeping secrets and passing for normal, pretending everything was fine. He exhaled when the keypad said approved.

  Aleecia handed him the receipt but she wouldn’t let go. She’s a tiger, he thought. And then he
remembered the barbecue on Sunday.

  “Are you going?” Kyle asked. “State Park beach at four.”

  She said something about having to work.

  “Too bad,” Kyle said. He felt self-conscious as he shoved his cart toward the exit, the front wheel squeaking and dragging and clicking.

  That was awkward, he thought. But, now I know where she works. Yeah, baby, I’ll be back!

  THREE

  Aleecia

  * * *

  ON SUNDAY MORNING, ALEECIA WOKE UP BEFORE THE alarm went off; she was excited about seeing Kyle. She fixed her hair and dressed for church.

  “Bye, Mom,” Aleecia yelled as she hopped on her bike. Her mom was dressed in her home aide uniform and waved wearily, a cup of coffee in her hand.

  Church was a huge part of Aleecia’s life. She sang in the choir, participated in all of the pageants, and volunteered with the youth group. She loved everything about church, the scent of incense, the whispered chants, and then there was the whole ritual of choir—meeting in the rehearsal room at ten fifteen, donning the heavy robe over her cut-off shorts, running through the warm-up, and then the organ accompanying their procession to the choir loft. She felt part of something bigger than herself. The music made her heart soar and sometimes even made her cry. She hung on every word the Pastor spoke and often daydreamed about becoming a minister herself. That is, if Gospel singing doesn’t work out for me, she thought.

  But on this day, she felt a special sense of anticipation. Her cousin Gina had offered to lend her a dress to wear to the barbecue. And her friend Dawn, who had her driver’s license, was coming to pick her up at four.

  Aleecia found Gina at coffee hour after the service.

  “Can we go?” asked Aleecia.

  “Excited much?” Gina asked. “You can’t let this boy know. You need to play it cool.”