by Amber Garza
Steeling myself, I breathe in deeply a few times before stepping into the school hallway. As I glance down at my “mom” pants and large striped shirt that covers my belly, I think of how much my style has changed since coming here. Not that I would call this a style. More like a necessity. To Aunt Molly’s credit, she did find me maternity clothes that weren’t terrible. At least I’m not wearing a moo-moo or a shirt with ruffles on the collar. And in case you’re wondering, we did see those when we were shopping.
After stepping into the hallway, I stare at the ground while walking forward. Feeling eyes on me, I remind myself that attending school was my idea. Aunt Molly had offered to let me do independent study when I first moved here. But the thought of being stuck in that house any more than I already was made my skin crawl. Now I’m thinking I should have taken her up on the offer.
Before my pregnancy showed, going to school wasn’t a big deal. Back then I was just the new girl. The girl who came from the city and dressed differently than everyone else. But now I’m the pregnant girl. The girl who got sent away after getting knocked up.
That’s right. I’ve heard the rumors.
And, I’ve got to say, they’re pretty accurate.
“Nice outfit.” A girl bumps me in the side.
I’m not surprised when I look up to see Ashley snarling at me. “Thanks. I’m pretty sure they have it in your size,” I say dryly.
She wrinkles her nose. “I doubt that. Last time I checked you were the only student who was preggo here.”
I shrug. “Well, chin up, from what I hear, you’re well on your way. I’m sure it’ll happen soon enough.”
She recoils as if I’ve slapped her. Huffing, she glances over at her friends as if hoping they’ll come to her rescue. But they all look as confused as she is. I guess they’re not used to someone putting Miss Diva in her place.
“Is Ashley bothering you?” Cal sidles up to me.
I glare at Ashley. “No, actually, I find her amusing.”
“This is what you want, Cal?” Ashley points to me, her tone laced in disgust. “You want to be with some slut who’s carrying another guy’s baby?”
As angry as her words make me, I hold my head high, determined not to let her get under my skin.
Cal fists his hands at his sides. “Really, Ashley, you think you’re the person who should be throwing around that word?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t get it. You act all self-righteous. Both you and your sister, but look at the decisions you make. Em’s boyfriend is a loose cannon, and your girlfriend is preggo. I’m so glad I got rid of the two of you.”
“Trust me, we couldn’t be happier about it either,” Cal says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Fuming, Ashley storms down the hallway, her friends trailing her like colorful kites. The other students stare at us, their mouths gaping open, their gazes locked on my stomach. Self-conscious, I smother it with my hands.
“I’m sorry about that,” Cal says, turning to me.
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it kinda is. Ashley’s mad at me, not you.”
“Oh, I think she’s mad at both of us.” I chuckle.
“You’re probably right, but it’s because of me.”
I rest my hand on his arm. “Don’t worry about it. Girls are petty and mean. I’ve been dealing with it since I was a kid. I can handle it.”
“I know you can. You were holding your own fine before I stepped in.” He smiles. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”
“My attitude?” I tease.
“I like to call it feistiness,” Cal responds. “And I find it sexy.” Reaching out, he grabs me around my middle, tickling gently at my sides. Giggling, I fall against him. As my face nestles into his chest, I forget all about the curious onlookers and Ashley’s hurtful words. Cal’s touch erases it all.
Cal
“How did the doctor’s appointment go today?” I ask when I show up at Taylor’s house late in the afternoon.
“Good. Everything’s moving along like it should.”
The house is quiet. So quiet it alerts suspicion. Normally her aunt is bustling around, cooking or cleaning. Martha Stewart’s got nothing on her. I don’t think I’ve ever been over when Taylor’s aunt or uncle aren’t home. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh. They’re at some baby store picking up the crib, I think.” Wincing, she presses her hands to her lower back.
“You okay?”
“My back’s killing me, but that’s nothing new. And, according to the doctor, it’s only going to get worse.” She releases a bitter laugh. “Great, huh?”
“You know what the problem is, don’t you?” I ask her.
“What?” she asks earnestly.
“You haven’t had one of my famous back rubs.”
“They’re famous, huh?” She cocks one eyebrow. It’s so sexy when she does that.
“Oh, definitely.” I hold up my hands and wiggle my fingers. “These puppies are world renowned.”
“Well, in that case.” Taylor winks before heading into the family room. She plunks down on the couch and points over her shoulder. “Have at it.”
I sink down next to her. The room smells like apples and cinnamon, and I spot a red candle on the end table. The couch is soft under my legs. Everything about this house is warm and cozy. Kind of reminds me of something out of a painting or one of those home décor catalogues Chris’s mom gets. My mom doesn’t bother with stuff like that. Says she’s too creative to be boxed in by looking at magazines or pictures. But that’s her. She’s always marched to the beat of her own drummer.
Lowering my hands, I press my palms into Taylor’s back. Then I knead the muscle tissue. It’s tight, so I work my hands in a little harder.
“Oh, that feels good.” She rolls her neck back, a tiny moan of pleasure escaping through her lips as I work my hands over her back.
I swallow hard. She has no idea how sensual she sounds, and it causes desire to run through me. My fingertips slide over the lower part of her back and I shiver, wanting nothing more than to lower my hands even further, to explore her body. Her shirt rides up, exposing a patch of milky white skin, and it takes all my willpower not to slide my fingers under the fabric. Instead, I pull it down and resume the massage. This isn’t supposed to be sexual. It’s supposed to be helping her feel better.
As I continue, I force my mind to think of something else. Anything else. Preferably something that repulses me. Something not sexual at all.
“Oh, man. You weren’t kidding,” she says, rolling her head to the side. “I can see why your massages are famous.”
Her neck is long and pale and stretched out before me. I lick my lips, feeling the way I imagine a vampire does. It’s like I can’t help myself. Leaning down, I press my lips to her flesh. She shudders as I trail kisses over every inch of her neck. She turns her head, and I capture her lips with mine. Reaching back, she hooks her hand around my neck, her fingertips dancing over my skin. I kiss her firmly, my tongue melding with hers. As the kiss intensifies, she drops her arm. Pulling her lips away momentarily, she pivots, angling her body toward mine. Then her hands come up around my face, and our mouths fuse once again.
We kiss for several minutes, and then I draw back. Not because I want to, but because I need to. I promised Taylor we would take things slow, and in order to keep my promise, sometimes I have to put the brakes on even when I don’t want to.
“Thank you,” she says, a little breathless. Her lips are red and swollen, and it makes me want her even more. I glance out the front window, willing my heart to slow. A bird flies lazily in the bright blue sky. I watch it until it disappears behind a tree at the edge of the property. When I was younger, I always felt sad when the birds would take off in formation, and Mom would remind me that they’re flying south for the winter. I hated the idea of them leaving me, as if they were my friends.
Then again, I’ve never handled goodbyes very well. I’m not too kee
n on change.
And that reminds me of the real reason I came over today. “Hey, Taylor, I need to talk to you about something.” Reaching out, I touch her face, and she melts into my palm.
“I know,” she replies, sadness lacing her tone. “I’ve known this was coming for weeks.”
“Taylor,” I start, attempting to formulate the right words.
“It’s okay, Cal,” she cuts me off. “You’re a senior, and you’ve got dozens of colleges trying to recruit you. You leaving has always been inevitable.”
“Yeah, but I never expected to meet you.” My hand curves further around her cheek, her silky hair slipping over my fingers. “Before you came to town I had my whole life mapped out. And when it came to choosing colleges, I only had myself to think about. I didn’t have to worry about how it would affect someone else, you know?”
Taylor sighs. “Just say it, please. Tell me where you’re going. I’ve been dying to know.”
“Okay.” I nod. “I’ve decided to go to Tide City University.”
Her eyes widen with shock. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” I smile.
“Really?”
Leaning forward, I steal a quick peck on her lips. I know I should wait until after I tell her everything, but it’s too tempting. Especially while she’s wearing that adorable excited look. “Yes. Really.”
“That’s near where my parents live.”
“I’m aware.” One side of my lip curls upward. “And it’s only a half hour from here. That’s why I chose it. I want to be close to you no matter if you stay in Prairie Creek or go back to the city.”
Her eyes grow serious. “I don’t want you to make this decision based on me. You need to go where you want.”
“That is where I want to go.”
A conflict rages in her eyes. “Cal, I want you near me. Trust me, I do. When I think of you leaving, it tears me apart. But it will hurt even more to know that you’re giving up your lifelong dream for me. I don’t want that for you.” A sad smile flickers. “You’re an amazing pitcher, and I know you’re going to go so far. It’s what you’re made for. You have to go for it.”
“I am going for it.” Reaching out, I grab her arm and gently draw her to me. Then I circle my arms around her waist. “Tide City has offered me a baseball scholarship. They’re a great team. It’s a great school. It’s always been on my list of top colleges.”
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“No,” she says.
“And I’m not now,” I tell her. “Besides, Chris is coming with me.” Chuckling, I throw her a wink. “He didn’t want to be far from Em.”
“You two must be the last romantics left on earth,” she teases, tugging gently on the bottom of my shirt.
“That’s just because we have the most amazing girlfriends in the world.”
Her cheeks warm, and it causes my heart to skip a beat.
“I’ll come back every weekend that I can,” I promise her. “And I want to be here when you have the baby.”
She freezes, her eyes locking with mine. Taylor rarely talks about what it will be like when the baby gets here, but I know deep down she’s scared. Scared of the birth. But mostly scared of giving the baby up. She’s never articulated this to me, but I can see it in her behavior. When she thinks no one is looking, she rests her hands on her stomach. A couple of times I’ve even noticed her smiling or whispering, and I know she’s communicating with her baby. It breaks my heart. I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to carry a baby inside your body for nine months only to give it away. I know she’s ashamed of the pregnancy, and I think she’s even ashamed that she can’t keep the baby. But every time I look at her, all I see is bravery and selflessness.
“You don’t have to,” she whispers, her voice wavering.
“I know.” I caress her cheek with my fingers. “But I want to.”
“Really?” A look of skepticism paints her face. “It won’t be too hard for you?”
“Why would it be hard for me?”
Her gaze darts to her hands in her lap. “Cal, you’ve been so cool about all of this, but it can’t be easy for you. I mean, I know what the kids at school are saying. It shouldn’t involve you. I’m the one who did this. It’s my problem. Not yours.”
“Hey.” I gently guide her head up until she looks into my eyes. “We’re in this together. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Her lips tremble, and she blinks repeatedly. “Damn hormones.” She sniffs, and swiftly wipes at her nose. “See, this is what I’m talking about. I’m a mess.” She pauses, staring deeply into my eyes. “You’re too good to me.”
“Will you stop?” I tell her. “That’s the girl I care about that you’re bad mouthing, and I don’t like it one bit.”
“It should have been you. Not him,” she whispers, shame cloaking her face. “I feel sick when I think about how this baby is his. You’re always so nice about it, but I know it must be hard for you.”
Her words cut to my heart. I snatch up her hands and thread our fingers together. “We’ve all made mistakes. Em told you about Ashley and me. That was royally stupid. But that’s in the past, and Dusty’s in yours. I don’t care about Dusty. I only care about today. And today you’re with me.”
She smiles. “Today, and tomorrow, and the day after that.”
“Promise?” I raise my brows.
“Promise.” She nods.
Tilting my face, I rub my lips over hers. She sighs contentedly.
“How did I get so lucky?” She speaks against my mouth.
“Oh, I’m the lucky one. Trust me.” She starts to shake her head, but I hold it steady. “One of these days you’re going to see yourself the way I see you, and then you’re going to know what I already do.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” She cocks her brows.
“That you’re the kindest, bravest, strongest, most incredible girl in the entire world.”
She snorts.
“I’m serious,” I say firmly.
Taylor
It’s perfect.
The kind of nursery I assume every new mom dreams of having for their baby. In fact, it reminds me of something out of a magazine. The crib sits under the large picture window that overlooks the front yard. A pastel colored mobile hangs from it, and the crib is lined with a colorful soft bumper. In the corner there is a rocking chair. I lower myself into it and push it gently back and forth. As I do, I imagine Aunt Molly doing the same thing in the middle of the night while she feeds her baby. A dresser faces me from the opposite wall, and on top there are several empty frames waiting to be filled with pictures of a smiling baby and her doting parents. A small bookshelf rests on the opposite wall, and my aunt and uncle have already started filling it with books. The child isn’t even here yet, and already he or she has reading material. A tiny chuckle bubbles from my throat, but it doesn’t take long for it to turn into a sob. Clapping my palm over my mouth, I silence it.
The clicking of dress shoes on hardwood floors alerts my attention. I stiffen. Uncle Alex appears in the doorway.
“Oh.” He pauses. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were in here.” In his hand he holds a fuzzy brown teddy bear. It doesn’t look new. Actually, it appears kind of raggedy.
“That’s okay. I was just checking it out.” I point to the bear. “What’s that?”
“You don’t remember it?” He holds it up.
I shake my head. “Should I?”
He steps further into the room. With his free hand, he runs his fingers through his brown hair. As I watch him, I’m struck with how similar he looks to my mom, with his pale skin, dark eyes, and chestnut hair that’s almost the same as mine. But it’s more than that. It’s in his mannerisms too. In the way that he knits his eyebrows together. I guess I didn’t register it before because they seem so different from each other. While Uncle Alex is religious and soft spoken, my mom is brash and loud, and practices n
ew-age beliefs. I suspect that’s what came between the two of them, but I don’t ask. Besides, I don’t want to talk about my mom. She’s hardly reached out to me at all since I’ve been here. Her one obligatory phone call a week is stilted and awkward at best. And don’t even get me started on Dad. I know they’re upset with me, and I suppose they have every right to be. I wasn’t exactly a model daughter. But I’ve changed, and I kind of wish I could show them that. Oh, well. Maybe they’ll see it someday.
“When you were little you used to visit a lot more often,” Uncle Alex says, cutting into my internal thoughts. “I lived in a different house then, and your Aunt Molly wasn’t in the picture yet. I would watch you overnight sometimes so that your parents could get away. One of those times I bought you this bear. You named him Max.” He chuckles. “I thought it was such a funny grown up sounding name for a bear, but you were always like that. Like a grown up in a little kid’s body.”
I’m flooded with the memories. “Oh, yeah. I do remember. I also remember wanting to take Max home with me, but you told me he had to stay here.”
He nods. “So you could play with him every time you visited.”
“Right. And I did. I even slept with him, huh?”
“You did.” He walks toward the crib and sets the bear inside. “And now the baby will.”
A lump forms in my throat.
“I always thought you and I would be so close as you grew up. But then the visits became less and less.” He stares out the window. “That didn’t have anything to do with you. That was between your mother and me.” Turning to me, his gaze meets mine. “And I want to apologize for that.”
“It’s okay,” I whisper.
“You’ve grown into an amazing young lady, and I’m very proud of you.”
I swallow down the emotion that wells up inside.
“And I want you to know that you’ll always be a part of this child’s life. He or she will have a part of you with him or her always.” He glances back at the bear. “And you can visit anytime you like. In fact, you can stay with us anytime you like. I mean it.” He pins me with a stare. “Molly feels the same way.”
