The Day We Met

by Dusti Bowling

I could feel her eyes on me as I continued staring out the window, silently willing her to lose interest in me and look away. My efforts were futile.

  “Are you gaining weight?” she asked, not attempting to conceal her pleasure at my being fatter than her.

  I shifted in my seat to look at Brittany and to take the pressure off my jeans, which were digging into my waist and belly. My low-cut jeans weren’t cutting it anymore—I would be in full-blown maternity clothes soon, spandex waistlines and all. “Yeah,” I confessed. “I’ve been eating like a total hog lately.”

  She beamed. “Eating for two?”

  I shrugged. “More like eating for ten.” Everything I told her was the truth. I had been eating like a hog lately. Around my fourteenth week, the nausea that had plagued me for two months seemed to magically evaporate. So I had been making up for lost time over the last few weeks, per doctors orders.

  Dr. Levin had been concerned about my weight at my thirteen-week check-up. According to him, I had actually lost weight since I had seen him at eight weeks, or ten weeks actually, or whatever. I didn’t need to be gaining a lot of weight during that time, but I shouldn’t have been losing weight either. My mom panicked and began force-feeding me all kinds of high fat foods—avocadoes, nuts, and sardines. She also put olive oil into nearly everything I ate, tainting the flavor of everything from salad to ice cream.

  The other day, as I was just about to sit down to a bowl of cereal covered with nuts and drizzled in olive oil, my mom had looked me up and down. My weight gain was becoming obvious. She appeared pleased with her efforts, as though I were a pig being fattened up for the slaughter. After that she eased up on her high-fat diet, but now my appetite was growing and I voluntarily ate everything in sight.

  Brittany continued staring me down, but I wasn’t going to give in and confess to her about the pregnancy. She would have to wait and hear about it through the gossip chain, but I wouldn’t allow her to start it, and I knew that was driving her crazy.

  She squinted at me. “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

  “Brittany, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Mr. Jaworski called, saving me.

  She shook her head.

  Yeah right, I thought. She wishes.

  ~ ~ ~

  “Is Will coming?” I asked Heather my daily question, even though I always knew the answer—he was either at the library, off campus for lunch, or Heather just didn’t know where he was.

  “No.” She sighed and looked over at a table on the opposite side of the room. My eyes followed her gaze until I found Will sitting at a table with two other guys—Stephen Canfield and Jeffrey Birch.

  I looked back at Heather. “When did he start hanging out with them?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. They’re doing some project together for history. Maybe that’s why they’re sitting together.”

  “Or maybe he just got tired of avoiding the lunchroom and decided to find some new friends,” I said.

  “Maybe.” She pulled her sandwich out of her lunch bag. “I’m getting tired of this. I mean, it’s obvious he feels you did something much worse than just ignore us for a couple of months.” She took a bite of her sandwich, and I cringed at what she said. “But whatever happened between you guys, he seriously needs to just let it go.”

  “Do you want to know what happened?” I asked and immediately regretted saying it. I didn’t feel like explaining it.

  Heather stared at me, chewing. “I’m mildly curious.” She smiled. “But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” She took another bite. “I think I have a pretty good idea anyway.”

  “Oh yeah? What do you think?”

  “I may be totally off base,” she said. “But I don’t think I am.”

  “Let’s hear it,” I said, finally pulling out my own lunch. I paused and my face flushed with embarrassment.

  “What’s wrong?” Heather asked.

  I shook my head. “My mom,” I whispered.

  “What?” she whispered back. I lifted my bag so Heather could see the Ensure my mom had stuck in my lunch. She giggled. “So what?”

  “Ensure is for old people.” I was still whispering, as though we were discussing something much more sinister than a nutrition shake. “Does she really think I would drink this in front of everyone? People will become suspicious if they see me drinking this.”

  “People are already suspicious,” Heather admitted. “You’re gaining weight now.”

  “Thanks.” I pulled the banana and sandwich out of my bag, leaving the Ensure in its secret place.

  “It’s not like you’re getting fat,” she clarified. “I mean, this is all to be expected. And it’s only going to get, you know, bigger.” She whispered the word bigger, her eyes ridiculously large.

  I sighed. “I know.” I took a bite out of my own turkey sandwich and looked over at the table where Will sat. He was laughing about something with his newfound friends, and as he laughed, he glanced over at me for a split second. Maybe he felt me watching him. I looked away.

  He seemed happy, and I liked Stephen and Jeffrey. They were nice guys—not like other guys at school. I glared over at Aidan’s table. There he sat, talking with his friends and going on about his life like nothing had changed. And here I was, doing all the suffering.

  Shortly after winter break, my mom had called and told his parents about our decision to put the baby up for adoption. Although it wasn’t their first choice about what I should do with my baby, it had offered them some relief—their precious, angelic Aidan wouldn’t be forced to be a daddy and give up all his hopes and dreams. He was now free to go impregnate any number of college females. I continued glaring at him.

  “Don’t let him get to you.” Heather was also looking at Aidan’s table.

  I turned away and shook my head. “No, I won’t. He’s so not worth it.”

  “He’s not worth the chewed-up gum under this table.” Heather gave me her meanest look, which wasn’t all that scary.

  I narrowed my eyes. “He’s not worth the meat-flavored nuggets the cafeteria is serving today.”

  A smile broke through her ferocious exterior. “He’s not worth the slushy mud everyone dragged in from outside.” Heather was on a roll now, and I knew she would keep going until the joke was completely unfunny. “He’s not worth…” She thought for a second. “He’s not worth the Ensure you’re hiding in your backpack.”

  I rolled my eyes at her but couldn’t help smiling. “Hey, I forgot to ask you something.”

  “What?”

  “Do you want to come with me to my first ultrasound this Friday after school?”

  “Really? They let non-family come?”

  “Sure. My dad has to work, so it will just be me and my mom. It would be great if you could come.”

  “Yeah, I’d love that.”

  We finished our lunch, and it wasn’t until we had already parted for class that I realized she had forgotten to give me her theory on what had caused the divide between Will and me. Oh well. I was sure she was way off anyway.

  ~ ~ ~

  Time was up. People were starting to notice the change in me. Waiting any longer would cause Will to find out about my pregnancy from someone else, and that would be bad—very bad.

  I decided I would accost him after school on Friday. Since Heather was going with me to the ultrasound, she would be driving us to my house after school, which was great; I was always relieved to not have to ride the bus.

  I had the plan all worked out. I knew exactly where he parked, and I told Heather to make sure she parked as close to him as possible on Friday morning. She would be conveniently late getting to her car while I waited for her. I would also be out there conveniently early. He wouldn’t be able to avoid me. All of this scheming was immature—I had to admit that—but he left me no choice. I had called him repeatedly, sent him that letter at Christmas, tried talking to him at school, but he foiled my every attempt at making contact.

&nbs
p; English was my last class of the day, and as I sat at my desk watching the clock, my stomach knotted up in anticipation of talking to Will. I hoped I wouldn’t chicken out. I reminded myself I didn’t have any choice—if he didn’t hear it from me, he would find out another way. And any other way was worse.

  The instant the final bell rang, I was out of my seat running for the door. I darted through the crowds and out to the parking lot. I found Heather’s station wagon and set my backpack on the roof. I leaned against the car and acted as though I were waiting for her, tapping my foot, not sure whether the cold or my extreme nervousness caused me to shake.

  After what seemed like an eternity, I saw him walking toward his truck. He caught sight of me but looked away, staring at the ground as he walked. I couldn’t risk him somehow leaving without getting his attention. I took a deep breath and walked toward him. I met him just as he made it to his truck. “Will.” I grabbed his arm.

  He finally looked at me. “I’m in a really big hurry—”

  “No,” I cut him off, “you’re not going to do this to me today. I have to talk to you.”

  He set his backpack on the roof of his truck and turned to face me. I couldn’t tell whether he was sad or angry or irritated. I wiped at my eyes, trying to get a hold of my emotions. “You won’t answer my phone calls.” I threw my hands up in the air in exasperation. “You won’t talk to me at school. You never even acknowledged the letter I sent you at Christmas. Did you even get it?”

  He nodded, looking off to the side. “Yeah, I did.”

  I didn’t want to cry in front of him, but I just couldn’t stop the tears from coming. “I’m sorry,” I pleaded with him. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “It’s fine,” he said curtly. “I’m over it.”

  “Then why are you doing this to me? Can’t we just be friends again?” The tears ran down my face. “I need you.”

  “You made it perfectly clear at the beginning of the year that you didn’t.”

  “I was being an idiot. I wish I could take back what I said to you. I didn’t mean any of it.”

  “Then why did you say it?” he snapped, no longer acting indifferent.

  I stared at his angry face and wanted to reach out and touch his soft cheek. I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  “You told me to leave you alone, Lenna, and I have. What else do you want from me?”

  “I don’t want you to leave me alone. Why are you being so stubborn?” I shouted, drawing the attention of a few bystanders, but I didn’t care. “Can’t you just forgive me? I just made a mistake. I’ve made a lot of mistakes lately, and if you would just listen to me—”

  “Lenna.” He raised a hand to stop me. “I forgive you okay. No big deal. I just… I just can’t be friends with you anymore.” He turned around and opened his truck door.

  “I’m sorry, Will. I’m so sorry.” He was going to get in his truck, drive away, and leave me behind. Now. Now. Just do it now.

  “I’m pregnant.” The tears streamed down my face.

  He stood there, his back to me, not saying anything for the longest time. I wished I could see his face. Why had I waited until he was turned before I said something? I reached out and put my hand on his back.

  He was completely still, as though contemplating how to react. Finally, he said, “I know.” I pulled my hand away, and he got in his truck and backed away, leaving me standing in the parking lot alone.

  Chapter 10

  The ride to the ultrasound place was silent until I turned around in my seat and accusingly said to Heather, “He already knew. Someone already told him. Who could have done that?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t. He probably just figured it out.”

  “Will knows you better than anybody,” my mom said. “He probably just suspected.”

  I looked back at Heather. I didn’t want to be suspicious of her. I would totally have understood if it had slipped out one day. “It’s okay if you told him. I won’t be mad.”

  “I didn’t,” she repeated defensively. But then her face turned a tad sheepish. “Well, he did mention something to me a while ago, but I hadn’t thought about it until just now.”

  “What?”

  “Well…” she hesitated. “He was in the bathroom one day. And…” she grimaced.

  “Just tell me!” I ordered.

  “Okay. He was in the bathroom, and a couple of guys were talking about you.”

  I could feel the blood drain from my face. “What were they saying?”

  “One was saying that after Aidan, you know,” she held up her fingers in quotations, the same grimace on her face, “‘tapped that,’ he was going to too.”

  “What does that mean?” my mom asked.

  I sighed, ashamed to have to explain this to my mom. “It means to have sex.”

  “That’s disgusting,” my mom said, a look of revulsion on her face. “The way kids talk about sex these days—there’s no sanctity in it anymore.”

  “I totally agree with you, Mrs. James,” Heather said.

  I pushed my head back against my seat. “I guess I can’t say anything. I’m one of those kids.”

  “That’s not true,” Heather said. “You don’t treat sex like it’s a joke. Stop being so down on yourself.”

  “Just because you did it one time does not mean you are destined to repeat the same mistakes,” my mom added. “I think this has been a good learning opportunity for you.”

  “Way to look at the silver lining, mom.”

  “Everything happens for a reason,” she answered my sarcasm.

  “Yeah,” I said. “And the reason this is happening is because I’m an idiot.” I could see Heather shaking her head in my peripheral vision. I looked at her. “What?”

  “I just wish you would stop beating yourself up about it. It’s not like God hasn’t forgiven you for what you’ve done. Now you just have to forgive yourself and move forward,” she said.

  I turned around in my seat and wondered if he had forgiven me even though I hadn’t asked him for it.

  By the time we made it into the small, dimly lit room with the sonographer, I had been lectured enough to last the rest of my pregnancy. I had a feeling I had better get used to getting lectured; once my belly grew, I would probably be lectured by every teacher, counselor, and old lady at the grocery store.

  “Have a seat in the chair, Lenna,” the sonographer said, motioning toward a green high-backed chair. She didn’t bother to introduce herself, so I resorted to thinking of her as Ms. Sonographer.

  I sat down in the chair, and Ms. Sonographer pushed a button that made it recline until I was nearly flat. My mom and Heather were growing more excited by the second, smiling and giggling stupidly. I half-expected them to give each other a high-five at any moment. I wished I could share in their excitement.

  “I’m just going to lift up your shirt,” Ms. Sonographer explained, pushing my baggy, gray t-shirt up to my chest. She squirted some goop all over my belly.

  “That’s warm,” I said.

  “That’s because I keep it in a warmer,” she explained.

  “That’s so nice of you,” I retorted.

  She took out a wand and pressed it onto the goop on my belly. “Let’s see here…” She moved the wand—which she informed me is actually called a transducer—around my lower abdomen.

  The room was quiet for a while, except for the sounds of my mom’s and Heather’s excited breathing. “I can’t tell what we’re looking at,” Heather whispered to my mom.

  “Here we can see the baby’s heart,” Ms. Sonographer said. All three of us squinted to see the small, rapidly beating blob on the screen.

  “Wow, I see it,” I said, straining to see. “It looks strong!” I exclaimed, and the three of us laughed, but Ms. Sonographer continued to look serious.

  “It looks okay, doesn’t it?” my mom asked. I looked expectantly at the sonographer, but she had her eyes glued to the screen. Her continued silence was making me nervous, and I
could tell it was making my mom nervous too. She kept taking pictures but wouldn’t tell us of what.

  “Do you want to tell us what we’re looking at besides just the heart?” I asked her, growing irritated.

  “Sure,” she mumbled. “Here’s a hand.” She continued freezing the screen to take more pictures. I could just barely make out a small hand.

  “Five fingers right?” My mom smiled at her. “I bet everyone asks that.”

  “Let’s see here,” Ms. Sonographer said. “One, two, three, four, five… six.”

  I laughed out loud. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She shook her head. “No. I’ve seen polydactyly before, and your baby definitely has it.” She counted the fingers for me again.

  “I don’t understand. What does that mean?” I felt sick.

  “Just a moment,” she said, squinting at something on the monitor. I looked at my mom, who looked nearly as upset as me. “Here you can see your baby’s head.” She pointed to an area on the screen, and I could just barely make out something that looked like an alien face. She studied the alien head for a long time.

  “What’s wrong?” I demanded.

  She looked at me. “See this here?” She pointed to something on the screen, but I couldn’t tell what I was looking at—it could have been a nose or a toe.

  “Yes,” I said. “I see that.”

  “I think your baby may have a cleft palate,” she said.

  “What?” my mom blurted out, moving closer to the screen. “Where?”

  “Right here,” the sonographer said, pointing again to the alien face. My mom squinted at the screen. Heather moved forward, also trying to make out what she saw on the monitor.

  “How bad is it?” I asked.

  The sonographer seemed to grow more uncomfortable with each discovery and subsequent questioning. She turned off the machine and wiped my belly with a towel. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’ll have to send the images to the radiologist.”

  “Then what happens?” I asked.

  “The radiologist will send the report to your doctor,” she explained, putting her hand on my arm. “I’m sure everything is fine. Don’t worry.”