Flutter

by Olivia Evans

  The sound of footsteps coming down the hall caused Presley to stiffen. Wiping away the tears under her eyes, she jumped to her feet and spun toward the bed, her back facing the door just as it opened.

  “Presley, your father and I are going to dinner and then meeting with a few donors. We’ll be home late.”

  Presley nodded and cleared her throat. “Okay. You guys have fun. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  There was a pause before her mother spoke again. “Are you okay?”

  Presley pulled in a shaky breath and plastered a smile on her face as she turned to her mother. “Yes. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look well,” her mother noted, a frown marring her face.

  Presley waved her off. “I didn’t sleep well last night. I think I’m going to take a nap.”

  Her mother studied Presley’s face then looked at her watch. “Well, if you need anything, Judith will be here for a couple more hours. Get some rest.”

  When the door clicked shut, Presley let out a sigh of relief the same time her stomach twisted with anxiety. She walked to her desk and looked at the large envelope with Penn State’s logo across the front. She knew what she would find inside. It made her feel sick. Her mouth filled with saliva as the room started to spin. Snatching the envelope off the desk, she raced to the bathroom and fell to her knees just before spilling the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

  Sobs echoed around the room as she pulled open the cabinet door under her sink to grab a washcloth. Her hand froze in midair as she remembered what lay hidden in the back corner. Lurching forward, she swept her arm out, knocking bottles of lotion and perfume to the floor as she searched frantically. When her fingers closed around the small velvet bag, she pulled it free from its hiding place. Unzipping it, she stared at the two pregnancy tests still secure inside their packaging.

  They’d been hidden in that bag for almost a year. Since the night Sunny showed up in a fit of tears with a box of pregnancy tests. After two negative results, Sunny asked Presley to toss out the rest. Worried her parents would see them in the trash, she’d stashed the tests under her sink. Pulling in a shaky breath, Presley rose to her feet. In that moment, she’d never wanted anything more than to have the same results as her friend.

  Presley removed the test from the package, following the same directions she’d read to Sunny. She snapped the plastic cap on the end, set the test on the toilet lid, and slid to the floor. She stared unblinking at the tiny object, the sound of her pulse thundering in her ears. It didn’t even take the full three minutes before a second pink line joined the first. Her vision blurred as she shook her head in shock, sadness, and fear.

  “No,” she pleaded, drawing her knees to her chest. “Please, God, no.” She wrapped her arms around her knees and starting rocking as she continued to shake her head in denial. A strange numbness began to creep over her skin. Her ears rang, her skin pebbled, and her tears slowly began to dry. Grabbing the envelope by her side, she ripped it open. She scanned the paper, words like congratulations and accepted jumping off the page. As if the contents of the envelope had burned her skin, she dropped them to the floor and scooted as far away as she could, her back pressed against the wall, her body flush against the side of her tub.

  With her arms once again wrapped around her legs, she dropped her head to her knees and closed her eyes. She tried to convince herself none of this was real, that it was only a nightmare, and soon it would be over. It had to be. Her body began to ache, her throat tightening and her eyes burning. She wasn’t certain when she’d started crying again or how long she’d been on the floor. She wasn’t certain about anything anymore.

  “Presley?” Dylan yelled, his voice laced with panic. Her eyes snapped toward the sound of his voice. He stood in the doorway, his eyes wide as they darted from Presley to the scattered papers on the floor. He rushed to her side, falling to his knees beside her. He cupped her face, his eyes searching. “Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

  The sight of Dylan caused the emotions already consuming her to explode. She couldn’t speak as she wrapped her arms around his neck and cried against his chest. He tried to calm her, to find out what happened, but she was bordering on hysteria. After several failed attempts, he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back.

  “You’ve got to talk to me, baby. Did you not get in? Is that what this is about?”

  Presley laughed, her expression almost manic. “Oh. I got in. Not that it matters. Nothing fucking matters now. I’m fucked. Everything is fucked.”

  Dylan raked his hand through his hair and released a frustrated growl. “What the fuck happened, Presley?”

  The angry sound of his voice caused Presley to freeze. She blinked once before her gaze drifted over his shoulder toward the test that still lay on the toilet. Without looking at him, she spoke.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?” Dylan whispered, his voice shaking. When Presley didn’t answer, he slowly turned his head, following Presley’s line of sight until the pregnancy test came into view. He dropped his arms to his sides and fell heavily against the wall, his skin waxen.

  “Fuck.”

  Almost an hour passed before either spoke. Time seemed to stop and move at the speed of light. What had been up was now down. Left was right, and everything that was perfect was now ruined. Presley remained on the floor by the bathtub, her arms wrapped around her knees as her broken sobs bounced off the walls. Across from her, Dylan sat with his hands wound tightly in his hair, his head pulled toward his knees. Every few minutes, he looked to where the pregnancy test lay, mocking and judgmental, the bright pink lines a symbol of how truly fucked they were.

  “What are we going to do?” Dylan finally asked, his voice hoarse, strained.

  Presley pulled in a broken breath and lifted her head, her red, panic-stricken eyes locking with his. “I have to get rid of it. You know what my father said. Dylan, he’ll send me away. I can’t lose you! We weren’t irresponsible. We’ve used a condom every time. This isn’t our fault!”

  Dylan raised to his knees and reached for Presley. He pulled her into his lap and wrapped her in his arms. “Shh, baby. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. I love you, please don’t cry.” His voice broke, and the sound only caused Presley to cry harder.

  “This isn’t your fault. We were careful. Why did this happen, Dylan? I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t know,” he choked. “But we’ll do whatever you want. I love you, Presley. You’re my girl. I’ll do anything for you. Anything at all.”

  “My father will send me away,” she whispered, her face pressed against his chest. “New Year’s Eve was nothing compared to this. Had your grandmother not stepped in, I’d already be gone. We don’t have a choice.”

  She felt him nod even though his entire body shuddered as he did so. “I can’t lose you either, Presley. We’ll do what we have to if it means we stay together.”

  “I’m scared,” she choked, her hazel eyes lost, terrified.

  “So am I,” Dylan confessed. “But I won’t leave your side. Whatever you need, I’m here. Don’t freak out and push me away. We’re in this together. I love you.”

  The next morning, Presley picked at her breakfast, her eyes downcast as her parents discussed their schedules for the day. She worried if she made eye contact they would somehow know her secret. She was pregnant. The moment she allowed the thought to enter her mind, the room started to swim, and the urge to vomit was nearly overwhelming.

  “Presley, did you hear me?”

  Presley’s eyes snapped to her mother, who was staring expectantly. Presley licked her lips and clasped her shaking hands in her lap. Pulling in a deep breath, she cleared her throat. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

  Her mother sighed and dabbed her napkin to the corner of her mouth. “I was reminding you of the trip your father and I have planned for next week.”

  When Presley continued to stare with a blank expression, her mother shook h
er head. “For our anniversary?” she prompted.

  Presley’s mouth formed a small oh as the details came to the surface. “Napa. Right. For your anniversary. You’re leaving Sunday?”

  “Yes.” Her mother smiled, pleased. “We’ll be back the following Saturday. Judith will be here as usual, so you needn't worry about meals and what have you.”

  “I trust that you remember the terms of our agreement concerning guests?” her father asked, his face stony.

  “No drinking, parties, or anything else that could be used against you by opposing candidates.” Presley nearly choked on her words. If her father knew the kind of damage she could potentially do to his campaign, he’d welcome a wild party and probably supply the drugs himself. Anything would be better than being a conservative Republican with an unwed pregnant teenage daughter.

  “Good girl. Now you better get going. You’re going to be late for school. We’ll see you this evening.”

  Presley nodded and stood from the table. She gritted her teeth and grabbed the back of her chair when a wave of dizziness turned the room on its side. Swallowing the saliva that had flooded her mouth, she left the room as quickly as possible. After brushing her teeth and grabbing her books, she made her way to her father’s town car.

  Dylan was waiting at the curb in front of the school when she stepped out of the car. The moment she took in his rumpled clothes and the dark bags under his eyes, her stomach twisted with guilt. He wrapped his arms around her and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

  “I missed you,” he whispered, pulling in a deep breath.

  “You just saw me last night,” Presley said, her attempt at sounding playful and lighthearted falling flat.

  Dylan cupped her jaw and tilted her chin until she was looking him in the eye. The pain she saw caused her knees to shake. “I hated leaving you last night. I couldn’t sleep at all knowing you were alone.”

  “You don’t have to be by my side every second.”

  “I know I don’t,” he retorted. “I want to be. I’m fucking terrified. I can’t imagine how much worse this is for you. I need you to need me. I need to feel like I can give you something other than sadness.”

  “Dylan,” Presley choked, her eyes filling with tears. “I haven’t slept at all. I feel like I’m going to vomit every ten seconds. It's taking everything I have to hold it together right now. Can we talk about this later? I can’t do this right now. I just can’t.”

  Dylan leaned his forehead against hers and nodded. “You got it, Elvis.”

  Presley let out a choked laugh and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

  “Come on. Let’s get to class.” With a final soft kiss on the lips, the pair walked into the school.

  Throughout the day, Presley’s head swam with all the ways her life could disintegrate. What if someone found out? What if she was too far along to terminate the pregnancy? What if she wasn’t? Could she do it?

  Every time she pictured the cold, sterile room and the doctor hovering above her, she wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. But when she considered the alternative—telling her parents and having them send her away, losing Dylan—that was when her bone-chilling fear set in. How could she give up someone she loved for someone she didn’t even know?

  The answer was, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

  Chapter Sixteen

  March 2011

  “When are your parents leaving?” Dylan whispered, his arms wrapped around Presley as they lay on her bed, a movie playing on the television.

  “In the morning. Around seven, I think.” Presley fidgeted with her phone, turning it in her hands for a moment before speaking again. “I found a place.”

  “A place for what?” Dylan asked. Although, from the way his body stiffened, Presley knew he understood.

  “You know.”

  Dylan sighed and sat up, his back resting against the headboard. Presley twisted around to look at him, her brows dipping with confusion when she saw the look of indecision on his face. “What’s wrong?” Over the last few days, Presley had noticed a shift in his demeanor. Whatever time not spent worrying about her pregnancy was spent waiting for Dylan to admit he wanted out. The anticipation of that moment was torture. Which was why his answer stunned Presley into silence.

  “Are you sure we’re making the right decision?”

  Presley opened and closed her mouth several times. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. Dylan blew out a heavy breath and raked his hand through his hair. “I just… I want to make sure this is what you want.”

  “I don’t want any of this.” Presley exhaled in disbelief. “I don’t want to be pregnant. I don’t want to have an abortion. I don’t want to see the disappointment and anger in my parents’ eyes. I don’t want to see the fear in yours. I don’t want any of this, but that’s not an option. The only choice I have is between bad and worse.”

  “We can’t take back the pregnancy, but we don’t have to go through with the abortion.”

  “Of course we do!” Presley retorted, her voice rising. “Unless you want my parents to send me away. In which case, you should just tell me now that you want to break up instead of dragging your feet like you’ve been doing the past few days.”

  Dylan shot up and grabbed Presley’s arms. “What are you talking about? Of course I don’t want your parents to send you away. And why the fuck would you think I want to break up with you?”

  Presley’s shoulders shook and her voice trembled. “I don’t know. I’m acting like a crazy person. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to deal with this.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Dylan swore, pulling Presley against him. “I told you we’re in this together. I’m just scared, baby. I don’t know what happens at those places. The thought of something going wrong and losing you terrifies me.”

  “Women do this sort of thing all the time. I’ll be fine.”

  Monday morning, Presley stepped into the cool spring air. Dressed in a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, she kept her head down, her eyes focused on the sidewalk as she weaved through a sea of people rushing to their destinations. She was in no hurry. After four blocks, she looked around, paranoid that someone would see her, that they would know where she was going and what she planned to do.

  Flagging down a cab, she gave the driver an address a block away from her destination before leaning her head against the window and closing her eyes. She felt guilty going without Dylan, even more so for not telling him about her appointment. She’d tell him about the next appointment.

  All too soon, the taxi pulled to a stop. The driver eyed Presley in his rearview mirror as she fished out a twenty from her pocket and tossed it through the opening in the glass. She didn’t have a purse. She only had a wad of cash and her ID. The least amount of attention she drew, the better.

  Stepping out of the cab, she looked toward the street sign to work out which direction to go. A moment of panic welled up inside her when she realized leaving her phone at home while traveling to a part of town she’d never been might not have been the best decision. The truth was, she didn’t trust her parents not to have put a tracker on her phone. If they were to check her location and find out where she was, everything would be over.

  With a deep breath, she turned to her left and shuffled her feet down the street. No one looked at her, save for a passing glance. She was just another kid. When the clinic came into view, Presley swallowed hard and shoved her hands into her pockets to keep them from visibly shaking. For a moment, she stood at the edge of the curb, her eyes unfocused as she stared blankly at the nondescript building. There were no protesters outside, no angry mob of people holding signs as they screamed murderer at the top of their lungs. Her stomach flipped, and something akin to disappointment washed over her. Had everyone given up? Didn’t anyone care anymore? Warring between torment and relief, Presley crossed the street and walked into the front office.

  She tried not to focus on the posters covering the walls or the people in the waiti
ng room staring at her. Mechanically, she moved to the front desk, filled out the required forms, and sat in silence as she waited for her name to be called.

  “Priscilla Wagner?”

  Presley jumped in surprise when the name she’d given on the sign-in sheet was called. Her eyes flew to the nurse by the door who wore a soft, knowing smile. Presley cleared her throat and rose to her feet, her heart thundering in her chest as she crossed the room.

  “Follow me,” the nurse instructed, her voice soothing. She stopped in the open doorway of a small room and nodded for Presley to enter. Presley took a seat in the chair at the back of the room and clasped her hands while the nurse looked over her file.

  “Elvis fan?” the nurse asked after a couple of minutes, eliciting a nervous smile from Presley.

  “The lady at the front desk said I didn’t have to use my real name for that part. It’s Presley, by the way. My real name, that is. My boyfriend calls me Elvis sometimes, so…yeah,” she rambled, her eyes stinging at the mention of Dylan.

  The nurse leaned forward and patted her hand. When Presley looked up, the nurse’s face was twisted with sympathy. Presley knew what she thought. She believed Presley was just another young girl who’d ended up pregnant and alone. As much as Presley knew she should set the record straight, she didn’t. Letting the nurse believe she was alone and scared was better than admitting she was having an abortion so her father wouldn’t lose his run for governor and take away her credit cards. Never in her life had she felt so ashamed.

  Presley nodded and gave one-word answers for the next several minutes. “Okay, honey. I need you to take this cup and step across the hall to give me a urine sample. Once you’re done, just come back here, and we’ll get you set up for an ultrasound. Then we’ll know how far along you are and will be able to discuss your options.”

  Presley fought back a sudden wave of nausea as she grabbed the cup. She tried not to think about what she was doing as she went through the motions. It wasn’t until she found herself on a cold metal table with a gob of gel smeared across her stomach that she realized what she was about to see. If she saw, then it became real. It wouldn’t be an it anymore. It would be a he or a she.