by Ash, Nikki
“Bella?” he responds, his voice gruff. When I know it’s Marco in the room, I close the door behind me and lock it. It’s hard to see and I trip over something on my way to him, but once I’m closer I can confirm it is in fact Marco. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I look around and don’t see anyone else in the room.
“I’m not sure if you noticed but you have a party going on outside your room.” I try to go for light to break the ice.
I hear him take a deep breath and release it. “Yeah, Janell loves her parties.”
“Your girlfriend, right?”
“Janell? No, just a… no, she’s not my girlfriend.”
“Marco, there’s a lot of drugs out there.”
“Belles, I can’t deal with whatever is going on out there.” He sounds completely defeated. I reach into my back pocket and text Tristan, the phone illuminating the room.
Me: I found him in his room. I’m talking to him.
Tristan: I’ll work on breaking up this party without causing a scene.
“How are you doing?” I ask, which is so stupid. I mean, really? The guy’s best friend is in a coma and he can’t train. Of course he’s doing shitty.
Marco ignores my question and says, “C’mere, Belles.” I scoot a bit closer to him. “Come sit next to me, please. I’ve missed you.” This time I crawl across the bed and sit next to Marco. Now that I’m closer, I can see he isn’t lying down—he’s slouched but sitting up against his headboard.
Marco turns to face me, the little bit of light peeking through the blinds letting me see his face. “Damn, Belles. You’re really here. I’ve missed you so much.”
“It’s only been a few months since you’ve seen me.”
“Seeing you at the gym doesn’t count. It’s not the same.” Marco runs his hand up my arm and cups my cheek. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”
I swallow thickly at his words because I’ve missed him just as much. It was easier to pretend I didn’t miss him when he wasn’t this close to me.
“Have you missed me too?” he asks.
I nod slowly, the lump in my throat preventing me from saying the words.
“It was your choice, Marco,” I finally say after a few minutes of silence. “You pushed me away.”
“I was trying to do the right thing.” His fingers trace over my chin then move to my lips, up the curve of my nose, and down my cheek, like he’s trying to relearn what I look like. It makes me think of what a blind person might do to learn the facial features of someone they can’t see.
“We weren’t doing anything wrong, Marco.” I take his hand and bring it down to the bed. His touch is driving me insane. When I go to pull my hand away, he grabs it.
“I need you, Belles.” Those four words send chills up my spine. He says them with such conviction I almost believe him.
“No, you don’t,” I whisper.
I feel the bed shift and suddenly Marco is hovering above me. “I need you, Bella. Please.” His breath fans across my face and then his mouth is on me. His lips aren’t gentle like they were in the past. They’re rough and punishing. They don’t taste like my Marco, and somehow, I find the strength to push him back a little, breaking our kiss.
“Marco…” I say because I don’t know what the hell else to say.
“Please… Please, Bella. I just need to be close to you. I need my best friend back.” The vulnerability in his words are my undoing. I know damn well I’m going to regret this tomorrow, but right now all I can think about is how much I love this broken man, and the fact that he needs me.
“Okay,” is all I can get out before his lips sear into mine. He’s kneeling in front of me, and not wasting any time, he grabs my hoodie and tank top and pulls it over my head, then he grabs his own and throws it all to the ground.
Sitting back, he pulls my body down so I’m lying under him, then he unbuttons my pants and pulls my panties and jeans down. I’ve imagined every day over the last several years about what it would be like to be with Marco again, but being with him right now…there’s no emotion. He says he’s seeking comfort yet his moves are all robotic.
Reaching over to his nightstand, I hear him grab a foil packet. He lifts his lower body up, his arms caging me in, and kicks off his shorts. His lips return to mine, his tongue entwining with my own. There’s no foreplay, it’s nothing like it was the last time. He pushes into me too soon. I’m not wet enough and it hurts. But I don’t say anything. I just lie there, letting Marco use me.
He nuzzles his face into my neck as he thrusts in and out of me lazily. My body finally accepts him, my sex getting slicker, and then… it’s over. I don’t even orgasm. Marco stops thrusting and rolls over to lie next to me.
“Marco?” I move my face closer to his to get a better look and see he’s passed out. Sighing heavily, I go to the bathroom to clean up. As I stand, I feel liquid dribble down the side of my leg. It’s dark so I can’t see what it is. I go into his in-suite bathroom and close the door, turning the light on.
I sit down to pee and grab the toilet paper to wipe myself. I don’t remember being this wet the last time we had sex, and last time, Marco made sure to get me off. Using my finger, I swipe the liquid from the inside of my thigh. It’s sticky…
Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.
After wiping up my leg, I flush the toilet and wash my hands. Leaving the light on so I can see Marco, I walk up to the side of the bed and shake him. He doesn’t move at all.
“Marco,” I say not bothering to whisper. Trailing my eyes over his body, I see he’s still naked. His dick is now flaccid and there’s no condom on it. I know he grabbed a condom…
I start shaking out the sheets not even worrying about waking him up. I mean, really… who the fuck just passes out immediately after sex? As the sheet catches air, I see the foiled packet fly up and then land back on the bed. I reach forward and grab it. Still wrapped! What. The. Fuck! He came in me? Motherfucker!
“Marco!” I shake him harder. “Marco, wake up!” When he doesn’t stir, I place my hand on his chest to make sure his heart is still beating. It is. I leave it there a few seconds to feel his chest rising and falling. Then I glance at the clock seeing it’s almost three in the morning. I have a math test in less than five hours.
Throwing the sheet over his naked body, I grab my clothes and quickly get dressed. When I walk out of his room, the house is quiet. Tristan must have gotten rid of everyone. The house isn’t spotless and the music is still playing, but it’s been turned down. I also notice all the drugs are no longer littering the surface areas.
I see him and Gina sitting out on the back patio having what looks like a heated conversation. I don’t want to interrupt them but I need to get out of here. “Hey, sorry to interrupt.”
They both turn to face me. Gina’s eyes are bloodshot, clearly high. Tristan closes his eyes briefly and takes a deep breath before reopening them. “It’s fine. Is Marco okay?”
“He’s sleeping. Can we go?”
“Yeah.” Tristan’s brows furrow, clearly wanting more but I’m not in the mood to give him anything else.
“Might as well… Tristan killed the party.” Gina stands, but wobbles shakily. Tristan quickly grabs a hold of her hips to steady her. I can see a myriad of emotions cross his features as he looks at Gina—anger, shame, annoyance, defeat, but most of all sympathy. And it has me wondering if maybe there’s more to why Tristan stays with someone like her.
Chapter Nine
Marco
The Next Morning
Holy shit, my head is pounding. The light is seeping through the windows making me feel like my brain is going to explode. I reach into my drawer and feel around for a baggie. When my fingers touch it, I snatch it, open it, and pour the white powder right onto my nightstand. Grabbing the razor I keep in there, I push it into a straight line then bring my nose down to the wood, inhaling deeply. The coke enters my nostrils and almost seconds later, I feel numb again.
I close the baggie and throw it ba
ck into the drawer before shutting it. Lying back against my pillow, my arm comes up over my face to block out the sunlight.
“Marco? Are you awake?” Janell’s annoying fucking voice booms through the door.
“Can you shut the fuck up, please?” I yell back. She opens the door and comes inside.
“I just wanted to check on you. Your friend made everyone leave last night. Fucking goodie-goodie. I can’t believe Gina is wasting her time with him. Like being with him will suddenly change her circumstances. You can take the girl out of the trailer park but you can’t take the trailer park out of the girl. Ugh.” I’m trying to process everything she’s saying, but I have no clue what the fuck she’s talking about.
“What?” I rub my eyes then grab a baggie of pills from the drawer, popping two into my mouth, swallowing them dry.
Janell comes over and sits on the bed next to me. “Are you naked?”
I look down and see the sheets pulled from her sitting onto the bed and sure as shit I’m naked. I slowly sit up and try to think…
“Did we….” I ask slowly.
“Excuse me?” She stands, arms crossed. I sit up and look around the room. My clothes are thrown all over the floor, and on my nightstand, there’s a condom wrapper. I swipe it up and see it’s unused.
“I’m just asking. I don’t know why I’m naked. You said my friend was here last night?”
“Tristan and some other girl showed up with Gina and broke up the party… sent everyone home.”
I try to remember last night, but it’s just a blur… I remember people coming over, everyone hanging out… but nothing stands out.
“Whose is this?” She throws a grey hoodie at me.
“I don’t know, Janell.” I just need her to close her mouth and go away. Grabbing the sheets, I pull them back over my body and roll over away from her, hoping she’ll get the message.
A few seconds later the door slams shut. Guess she got the message.
Chapter Ten
Bella
The Next Morning
Great! I’ve missed my math test and I’m never going to make it in time for my English Lit. class, either. I got home and started googling pregnancy.
When do women ovulate? Ten days after the first day of her period based on a twenty-eight-day cycle.
I pulled out my calendar and tried to figure out my cycle. After an hour, I gave up.
How many days a month can a woman get pregnant? The average woman ovulates for forty-eight hours a month.
Okay… so, does that mean the other twenty-six days a woman can’t get pregnant?
So, then I Googled the morning after pill… and I almost had a heart attack. Sure, most people said it works if taken within twenty-four hours. It has an eighty-nine percent effective rate. But then when I typed in side effects I started to see words like nausea, vomiting, dizziness, fatigue, headache, bleeding, lower abdominal pain, and I started working myself up.
Then I came across an article where a girl died! DIED! Now, it can’t be proven if it was the pill that killed her, but do I really want to take that chance? My mom always tells me not to Google shit. I do this all the time. Tristan has even forbidden me from using Google because he’s so sick of hearing me tell him the stuff I’ve read on there. But I digress…
Now, look, I’m not judging anyone who chooses to take this pill. To each their own. But if I can only get pregnant two, maybe three, days a month then I’m thinking I might just be better off praying Marco’s dumb ass shot his semen in me during one of the other twenty-six days.
I hate pills as it is. I never even take Tylenol because it makes me gag. I still buy the liquid shit when I have a cold.
So, I close my laptop, with it in my head that there’s only a ten percent chance that I’m ovulating right now. I would say the odds are in my favor.
Chapter Eleven
Bella
Present Day
I stare at the stick with two pink lines, glaring at it, willing one of the lines to disappear. Whelp! I guess I was ovulating during that ten percent chance timeframe. I don’t know whether to go play the lottery or never play it again…
I mean. Ten. Percent. Chance. That means I had a ninety percent chance of not ovulating on that day.
Some would see this as a miracle. A cancer patient gets told he only has a ten percent chance of beating it. He beats it. Miracle.
A woman plays a scratch off with only a ten percent chance of winning the jackpot. She wins. Miracle.
Someone is in an accident and is told there’s only a ten percent chance of surviving. The person survives. Goddamn Miracle.
I had a ten percent chance of getting pregnant. And I’m pregnant.
Miracle? Some would say so.
Me? Right now? Not so much.
“Bella! Are you coming to lunch or not?” Tristan bangs on the door.
“Umm… just give me a minute.” I grab the offensive stick, shove it back into the container, and shove the container into the back of the cabinet under the sink. Since we each have our own bathroom, the chances of him looking under there are…
On second thought, I’ll just take that box with me. Because apparently the odds are in my favor, which means Tristan will look under the sink and find the box.
I open the door a tad, peeking out to make sure Tristan isn’t near it and then make a mad dash to my bedroom to hide the box. After throwing it in the very back of my closet, I get dressed.
“I’m not going to be able to make it to lunch,” I say to Tristan and Gina. Tristan gives me a quizzical look. Gina rolls her eyes.
“You sure?”
“Yep, I have something I have to take care of.”
“Okay, if you need anything call me.” Tristan leans forward and gives me a quick kiss on my cheek.
Before I lose the courage, I drive over to Marco’s condo. However, once I arrive, my courage seems to disappear. So, I sit in the parking lot for a good twenty minutes before I build my courage back up enough to knock on his door.
At first, nobody answers, so I knock once more. This time, I hear voices then the door swings open. A bleach-blonde skinny chick wearing a tube top and boy shorts stands in front of me eying me up and down. Her eyes meet mine and they’re blood shot.
“Can I help you?” she slurs.
“I need to speak to Marco.” She gives me a dirty look that I ignore. “Now.”
She swings the door open wider, her one hand flinging out to the side letting me know I can enter. I see Marco sitting on the couch in the living room, his nose about an inch from the coffee table. He inhales loudly then looks up.
“Janell, who the fuck is…” When he sees it’s me, his eyes widen a fraction.
“Belles,” he says lazily, drawing out each letter. He’s high as a kite. This is the point where I should walk away. But I’m pissed. This guy is getting high while I am freaking out about being knocked up because he didn’t put the goddamn condom on his dick before he came inside me. “I’ve missed you…”
I roll my eyes. The last time he said those words, his fuck-ass knocked me up.
“We need to talk.” I put my hands on my hips.
“Marco and I are actually busy right now, so…” the bleach blonde bitch says as she sits next to Marco and snorts a line of what I think is coke.
“Marco,” I say. “We need to talk.”
“Damn, Bella, I haven’t seen you in forever and you come in here all red-faced and mad. Why don’t you chill out?”
“Chill out?” I repeat his words, nodding my head slowly while willing myself not to murder the father of my unborn child.
“Chill out,” I repeat, again. “I’m pregnant, Marco.”
His eyes bug out then he looks down at my stomach. “I’m only like a month along.”
“Damn, Bella. That shit sucks.” He grabs a baggie and dumps some more powder onto the table, leaning over and snorting it again. “If you need money for an abortion, I can give it to you. Fuck, I can’t even imagine.�
�� Marco shakes his head in disbelief, his words slurred so badly it’s hard to even understand what he’s saying.
“I don’t need money. I’m not having an abortion.” I stare at the man in front of me, the man I’ve loved in some way or another for more than half my life, and I don’t recognize him. It’s like he’s a skeleton of himself. The Marco I know would never offer me money for an abortion. He would comfort me and be there for me. He would tell me we would figure this out together.
“Hey,” he says, only he isn’t talking to me. He’s talking to blondie. “If you get knocked up, you are aborting that shit. There’s no way I’m bringing anything with my blood into this world.”
Blondie just rolls her eyes and takes another hit.
“Marco,” I say. His eyes meet mine and they don’t even look like his beautiful onyx eyes. They’re hooded over and the little bit that should be white is bright red. This isn’t my Marco. I don’t even know this man. I walk closer and kneel next to him so we’re eye level. “Leave with me. Right now. We’ll get you help. I don’t know what’s happened but we’ll figure it out.”
“I don’t need help.”
“What about fighting?”
“That ship has sailed, Belles. And judging by your admission, it’s sailed for you as well. I guess life doesn’t always turn out as planned.”
Not being able to be in the same room as Marco any longer, I turn to walk out. With one last glance over my shoulder, I give him a sad watery smile before I walk out the door.
Once I’m in my car, I dial a number and hit Bluetooth so I can back out.
“Bella? Is everything okay?”
“No, Caleb, it’s not.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Marco. He needs help. Help I’m not able to provide.”
