Though pregnancy tests are available at the on-campus medical building, I figure it’d be best to go off-campus for this particularly personal need. Purchasing a handful of pregnancy tests shouldn’t feel as shameful as it does. Surely the cashier can’t give two shits about the items they scan throughout the day but 7 boxes of pregnancy tests and gallons of orange juice have to be something worth mentioning to their coworkers during their lunch. This is stupid. The opinions of a couple of pizza faced cashiers are the last things that should be on my mind right now. There’s a chance that I could be carrying Zach’s baby.
Back at the dorm, I lock myself inside the bathroom and start the time eating process. 20 minutes later, the results are in.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Positive.
Negative.
Positive.
Positive.
How likely is it that the strip that reads Negative on the cheapest pregnancy is the only right one, I wonder.
Fuck.
Of course I had to find out I’m pregnant days after I told Zach that we should keep our distance and take a break from each other. Of fucking course.
I’m at a loss. Tears stream from my face as I sit helplessly on the cold tiled floor of the bathroom. Before even thinking of how to deal with this, I have to let all of my feelings out. Not just from finding out I have a developing zygote in me, but from everything. Being at this academy has been an emotional rollercoaster from the beginning and I haven’t given myself any time to process my emotions. Not the hardship of being away from Zach, the stress from all of the work I’ve had to do, being discovered by that blonde bitch Scarlett, or even the breakup. Being here, I feel as though I can only have a hard shell. Weakness isn’t seen as an admirable trait here, nor should it be. We’re training to be soldiers that walk the city streets of the United States. We can’t be weak.
Yet here I sit, weeping over a toilet and the idea of raising a child on my own. The spitting image of a weak woman.
I can’t tell Zach about this child. It would ruin his life. And that’s no hyperbole. It would absolutely, without exaggeration, destroy everything he’s worked so hard to achieve. He’s living comfortable with this job. But the pay he’s currently receiving isn’t something he could raise a child with. He’d need a second job, or a better paying one. A type of job he isn’t qualified, considering being a police officer is all he’s ever wanted to and trained to be.
I’d have to drop out and work on raising this child. The Police Academy would have to wait indefinitely and by the time I’m able to re-apply, I would no longer be in my prime. I’ll be out of shape, more so than ever. I’m not ready for a child. I can barely handle a stable relationship, how could I possibly even attempt to raise a child on my own?
To say that I’m codependent on others is an understatement, as much as I hate to admit it. I’ve grown out of it the same way I grew out of training bras, that being, year by year. As my father decided to pay more attention to his new wife, I learned that I had to start doing things myself. But once Zach and I started dating, I fell right back into my old habits of depending on others. Zach told me when to get dressed, when to exercise, when and what to eat, just as my father had before him.
But neither of them prepared me for pregnancy.
Zach should know about this. If there were any doubt that he was the father, I wouldn’t be saying so but having been the only man to have been inside me without protection, it’s obvious that he’s the only possible candidate. He has a right to know.
Even if he wants nothing to do with me or the thing growing inside of me.
Chapter Seventeen - Kayla
“Ms. Thomas?”
I look and see the enormous, warped silhouette of the head of the disciplinary board, Mrs. Strauss.
“We’re ready for you now”, she grumbles.
She holds the door open for me and quickly walks to her chair which sits directly in front of mine. Around me sit six other members of the disciplinary board, each one more aged than the last.
I greet them courteously but am met with cold responses.
“Ms. Thomas, we understand that you had an unorthodox encounter with Mr. Clark earlier this month. Would you like to tell us your side of the story”, Mrs. Strauss asks loudly.
It took me two days to come to a conclusion on what I would be saying in front of this council. Figuring out what I’d be admitting to and what I’d be omitting from the story. I want to be a police officer and in order to do that, I have to graduate. But Zach is already a police officer. And telling the whole truth the way I’m expected to would keep him from continuing to thrive in his position. Hell, he’d likely be disgraced if this is how his career in enforcing justice ended. And things would only be made worse if anybody were to find out about our previous familial connection.
In order to avoid further heartbreak and emotional confusion I’ve been trying to deny my love for Zach, but it beats me stronger the more I think about my possible endangerment of his professional life. I don’t want to ruin him. I don’t want him to hate me for ruining him. I’m the one who squirmed my way into his professional life with little consideration of the consequences, consequences which were only heightened after starting to date Zach. It was a mistake, my mistake. One I intend to right today.
“I snuck out of my dorm at midnight to see Mr. Clark. I went to him because I wanted someone to talk to about some emotional problems I’ve been having recently. My father died this past year and it’s something I’ve had a hard time dealing with. Having learned about Mr. Clark’s former partner, I figured I could go to him for help. As we talked, I… I crossed the line and tried to seduce Mr. Clark. But he rejected me and asked me to go back to my dorm.”
My fists are clenched so tightly that my knuckles are as white as bone. I look up to see the board whispering at each other, looking displeased with my version of the events that took place that night.
“So, you attempted to seduce a faculty member. Mr. Clark did not engage with you in any way?”
“No”, I tell them tearfully. “He doesn’t want anything to do with me now.” That much is true. “He said it was inappropriate and showed me the door.”
After some more high brow whispering, Mrs. Strauss stands up and dismisses me.
“The other members of the disciplinary board and I will have to deliberate further on the matter. We will call for you once we come to an agreement on your future here at The Academy. You may leave.”
More waiting now. More unnecessary waiting.
They could just tell me right now whether or not I’m expelled. I wish they wouldn’t drag this out any longer than necessary. Waiting for a ruling is absolute torture. Just kick me out and let Zach stay on board with his reputation unscathed by this minor indiscretion. Think of me as the irresponsible, silly, little girl the whole world has taken me for and leave Zach alone. There are other ways to honor my dad. There must be. But if Zach’s livelihood is in danger, then anything that has to do with a dead man has to take a backseat to the real, immediate problems at hand.
On my way back to my dorm, I spot Zach across the way. I try to avert his gaze but his eyes immediately catch mine. He runs over to be but just as he reaches over to grab my arm, my morning sickness attacks with a vigor. Again, having been nauseous for the past few days, there’s little food in my stomach for me to throw up, but regardless I expel everything lying dormant in my stomach, unable to aim it away from Zach. Some falls on his shirt but instead of acting reasonably repulsed, he leads me to the nearest bathroom to help me finish.
“It’s alright, you don’t have to be here”, I cry between dry heaves. “You shouldn’t be seen with me right now. What are you doing here anyway?”
“Strauss called me in. Looks like the investigation is closed and… I mean, I hope that them calling me to show up in person means I’m cleared of any sexual misconduct charges. But screw all that, worry about yourself, you’re
sick. Strauss can wait, I’m not going to leave you alone while you puke your guts out. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office once you’re done”, he suggests.
After painfully emptying out my stomach, I turn to Zach. “We’re not going to the nurse’s office. I can deal with it. Go meet with Strauss, you don’t want to be late.”
“I know you’re all tough now, but even cops need a visit to the doctor’s every once in a while. What do you think it is, a stomach virus?”
“In a way, yeah”, I answer coyly.
I regret answering him in such an aloof manner because Zach catches onto what I’m saying immediately.
“Holy shit, Kayla… Are you…”, he lowers his voice, “are you pregnant?”
Zach waits for an answer, but I can’t bear to tell him the truth. He should know the truth, but an unshakeable fear runs through me. Men have known to react to the news of being a father in all kinds of ways, from joyous to grossly violent. He would never hit me, but the fear is instilled in me, regardless.
“I have to go. Just… Thank you”, I groan, as I stand up and get adjusted to the room settling back into reality. “Also, I wouldn’t worry about your job. I took the blame for everything. You should be cleared of any--”
More stomach acids start making their way back through my esophagus. I choke what I can down and leave Zach in the bathroom, running towards my dorm.
Chapter Eighteen - Zach
Don’t thank me, damn it. Tell me if you’re carrying my baby inside of you. Tell me what happened with Strauss. What did you admit to or... Damn it, Kayla.
She runs away from me, leaving nothing but a growing list of questions and arguments I could start. Kayla is in no shape to be anywhere outside of a warm bed, but she now has me worried about something much more serious than her status here at The Academy. She could have easily told me that she’s not pregnant, but she chose to run away instead. No denial. No confirmation. Just silence and uncertainty.
If she’s carrying my growing seed inside of her and aware of it, then she’s decided to quit her pursuit of a police career.
This is different than her pursuit of fame with ballet, or gymnastics, or any of the various instruments that went unused. She trained passionately to be where she is and now she could be throwing it all away. For what? My kid? Our kid?
Kayla wants to be a police officer more than any of the other shithead recruits I’ve had the displeasure of dealing since I became an instructor. She has heart, determination, smarts, everything one needs to become a great cop, in spades, and she’s letting someone else choose her path. I should have worn a condom. I was an idiot not to. All of the time we had sex were unprotected, and I never considered the consequences.
It’s an anomaly in my life. I’m normally very conscious of using protection with my partners. My fear of sexually transmitted diseases has kept me from ever fucking a woman bare. Until Kayla and I joined genitals.
Was it the randomness of our sexual encounter?
No. Even if our first one was random, all of the other times we engaged in sex, I had condoms near me. There’s no excuse for the many times I entered Kayla with complete disregard of what an insignificant shot of ejaculate could do to her body and life.
And now I may be someone’s father. Me.
Being somebody’s paternal figure is a thought that has escaped my mind for a large portion of my life. Sure, every man has thought about being a father, but the idea doesn’t come around often for people who aren’t trying to get their partner pregnant, or are avoiding the responsibility. Now that I’m faced with the possibility… I think I would want to be a father. A good one. One who’s there. One who doesn’t abandon his child or their mother. I want to be a father like Kayla’s.
I’m going to take care of Kayla and our baby no matter what the cost.
Chapter Nineteen - Zach
My march towards the office where I’d meet with Maude and her band of old farts is interrupted a second time, but this time by the hellish demon who is responsible for all of this. Little Miss Scarlett Hill.
I shout her name, making her head jerk instantly in my direction. Her eyes widen in fear of seeing the man she thought she fucked over beyond help. Clearly, she didn’t think she’d be running into me after being a grade A snitch. Scarlett tries to ignore me by talking to the people around her, but doesn’t realize the crowd around her starts to disperse rather quickly.
“Maybe you didn’t hear me, Ms. Hill”, I menacingly growl as I rest my hand on her shoulder, “but I did call out to you. And we need to have a word. Now.”
Her head retreats into her torso like a scared little turtle, but shot right back out when I pulled her out of the hallway and into an empty classroom. I lock the door behind us.
“Sit down, Scarlett”, I order her.
She does as I ask, looking like she’s being held hostage by some terrorist, which in all honesty may not be too far off considering how mad I’m getting every second I’m forcing myself to spend with this immature bitch.
“Touch me again and I will get Mrs. Strauss”, she warns me trying to sound as confident as possible through her trembling voice.
“Oh shut up”, I groan. “What in the hell is your deal? What do you have against me? Why are you so hellbent on being a thorn in my ass?”
“Because you wouldn’t put your thorn in my ass”, she exclaims.
“...WHAT?!”
She turns red, fully realizing how stupid she just sounded. But she sticks by what she meant. “I WANT TO FUCK YOU, YOU IDIOT!”
“Shut the fuck up”, I sneer before making sure nobody is standing at the door, eavesdropping on our conversation. “What are you talking about?”
“I’ve been trying to get you inside of me since I first showed up and you haven’t taken me up on any of my advances. I intentionally fall in the mud so I could take my shirt off and show you my bra, and you just tell me to keep my shirt on and wait until the whole class hits the showers to try to get clean. I stop wearing a bra during morning runs so you can get a good look at my tits, and I never catch you staring. I even tried to grind on you and you asked me to give you space, like, are you dumb?”
I feel both of my fists ball up in anger, and have to use all of my self control to not let my fists fly in Scarlett’s direction.
“You’re a student”, I say with gritted teeth, “I’m an instructor. We cannot engage in any sort of misconduct for numerous reasons.”
“Is one of them that I’m not related to you”, she says, regaining her malicious confidence.
I scoff, trying to play off her knowledge as nonsense. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You can pretend all you want, Mr. Clark, but you’ve got a public Facebook. And so does Kayla. And you know what, so does your mommy. And boy, does your mommy love to post pictures of you and you sissy. You should know that, since she tags you in them.”
Just another precaution Kayla and I failed to consider before her enrollment. Here I thought that Scarlett was a shit student but apparently she’s quite adept at doing some research.
“She’s not my sister”, I inform her. “She’s uh… a family friend.”
“Sure, sure”, she chides. “You should really check the captions your mom writes on the pictures she posts on Facebook. You can’t lie to someone who knows everything, Zach. You’ll just look foolish. And you certainly do look foolish right now.”
This bitch could be a Bond villain. She really has me bent over a barrel. But what does she want?
Scarlett leans back on the chair she’s sitting on, looking at me inquisitively. “Now that Kayla is out of the picture, how about we have a go?”
Frozen in shock, I watch as Scarlett stands up from the desk, turns around, and pulls her sweatpants and underwear down to her knees, revealing an admittedly attractive pair of legs leading to a pair of warm, welcoming holes.
“Come on, Mr. Clark. I’ve been a naughty girl, don’t you want to punish me”, she begs.
“I want to punish you alright”, I tell her. “But not in any way you’d enjoy. Pull your pants up, you sad little girl. I’m not going to lay a finger on you today or ever. You very efficiently fucked up any chance of that, the second you got me fired.”
She turns around and hurriedly raises her sweatpants. “Fired? What, you took the fall for Kayla?”
I nod slowly.
“You really are an idiot. Whatever. You’re missing out on the tightest pussy you could have ever had”, she annoyingly brags as she brushes past me.
Something tells me that her pussy is far from the tightest, but even if it was, there’s only one person I want to want me. The woman of my dreams. The only person who has ever been so kind as to sacrifice their own dreams for my economic well-being and happiness. Someone who doesn’t deserve to have their dreams ripped from them.
Two Bad Groomsmen_An MFM Menage Romance Page 22
