LbA: Victorious, Part 3

Where did she find these men?  I mean, I had only seen her with two, but both of them were hot.  Like, fucking hot.  If I wasn’t with Luke, and still hated Aleah, I would try to steal them from her.  The one I ran into her with in the hall, blonde.  The one sitting on the step with her, brunette.  If I could pick one or the other, definitely the brunette.  He was tall, ripped, and when he looked at you, his eyes pierced your insides, like an ice pick stabbing clear through your heart and entering out the back.  He claimed they were just friends, but his ferocity over defending her?  That spoke volumes more.  Not to mention the way in which he was touching her-with passion and tenderness-when I walked out on them.  I do wish Luke was more like that, but, then again, who knows how much longer Luke and I would be together.  He’s an arrogant asshole.  We’re either hot or cold.  Up or down.  Left or right.  There is no in between.  When it’s good, it is glorious.  Damn hot.  But when it’s not?  It’s like being in the throes of hell.

When I got to Luke, I told him what happened.  He almost looked jealous.  I really don’t know of what, though.  When we started walking to his car, I stole one last look at Aleah and mystery brunette.  She was looking at him with calm, and he was somehow standing over and around her like a protective lover.  If Luke’s face had been spread with jealousy, I could only imagine what mine looked like.

July 2010

“Well, shit,” I muttered.  Even though, oddly, I could feel a smile fighting at the corners of my mouth.  I looked down at the plastic stick in my hand with a plus sign on it.  I was going to be a mom, and Luke the dad!  We could be a family.  But, I still had another year of school.  I frowned at that thought. 

I did some quick math on my fingers.  I would be due sometime around March or April.  I would almost be finished with high school.  Only a couple months would I need help. 

I could pinpoint the exact night I got pregnant:  the first day of summer after classes ended last month.  Luke had gone with me to a celebratory, end of school party.  After his confession regarding his sister, we had become inseparable.  We saw each other (whether with our parents’ knowledge or by sneaking around) every single day.  We hadn’t been fighting at all.  He had even asked me to be his girlfriend in December, and he was so attentive and faithful.  The sex was more loving, and not as crude.  Yet, we always used protection, except for the one night.  We had partied late and were drinking hard. 

We were in the bed of his rundown truck, getting ready to watch the sun come up.  Dizzy and drunken, he was poised over me, about to enter.  “I don’t have a rubber,” he whisper slurred.

“Mmm,” I had murmured.  He shifted his weight, pressing the tip of his cock against me, on the verge of entering.

“I want you so bad,” he groaned, his pelvis thrusting, but not quite breaking the seal.

“Me too.”  That was all the encouragement he needed, as he pushed deep into me and I gasped.  Taking his full size in every time, felt like the first time over again.  He had cummed urgently, filling me up.   Intoxicated, we had laughed at the time, until the alcohol wore off.  But to ease our nerves, we had convinced ourselves it was only one time, and it would be okay. 

Now looking down at the glaring truth, I realized it wasn’t okay. 

The past week I had been so tired and sick.  Like the flu was coming on.  I thought my period was going to start... but my period was as consistent as the ticking seconds of a clock.  And this month, it was late.  A couple weeks.  I finally gathered up the courage to take a pregnancy test.  I hadn’t told Luke I was going to, because I didn’t want him to worry needlessly. 

I wiped the stick completely dry, and clicked the cap back on.  I slid it into the band of my jeans and took the trash, stuffing it into the trash on the way out of the bathroom at Wal-Mart.  There was no way in hell I was going to risk my parents finding out about this.  At least, I wasn’t going to before I wanted them to know.  Maybe once I told them, they would feel better knowing I would be 18 when I had the baby.  And that Luke would be 20.

After leaving Wal-Mart, I drove straight to gym where I knew Luke would be working out.  He had committed to going to a local college and playing ball there.  Since he had taken a year off, he had lost his scholarship to the D1 school he was supposed to go to.  His plan now was to play for a year there, and then hopefully transfer to a big school so he could play again.  He just needed to prove himself and that he hadn’t lost anything by not playing for a year.  I was briskly striding up to the gym, but slowed down thinking how this was going to affect him.  What if he didn’t want to keep the baby?  What if he wanted me to have an abortion?  What if he broke up with me?  Or, honestly, what if he did want to keep the baby?  Then what?

I felt like I was trudging through thick, cold molasses.  My feet were barely working without me consciously driving them forward.  I froze in the hallway of the gym entrance, leaning back against the brick wall.  The coolness of the brick against my bare arms brought me back up to surface from the murky pond of my thoughts.  My eyes were closed, focused on my breathing, slowing it down.  I also was concentrating on the nausea, too, forcing myself to keep from throwing up.  How was I going to tell him?

“Vic?” I heard Luke’s concerned voice, echoing off the cold, hard walls.

I opened my eyes and saw him tunneling in on me, his face etched with genuine fear.  He knew something was off.  He rushed over and placed his hands on my shoulders, grasping lightly.  He still had sweat dripping off of his forehead.  “Are you done working out?” I meekly whispered.

He ran his hands back through his hair, and looked back down the hall towards the gym.  He looked back at me.  “I am now.”  Although his words sounded annoyed, his tone was soft and full of care.  “Let me grab my bag,” he finished. 

I sank down to the ground as he jogged away, to wait for him to return.  I placed my head on my knees.  What felt like hours, was really mere minutes, as I heard his steps thumping back towards me. 

I raised my head and he held his free hand down to me, holding his duffel in the other.  I grasped his hand and he pulled me up, effortlessly.  He wrapped his arm protectively around my shoulders and escorted me outside.  He spoke no words as he guided me to his car and threw his duffel bag into the open window and then kept walking past his car, with me in tow.  He walked me to the cafe next door to the gym.  He pulled out a chair in a secluded corner for me to sit down and he went up to the counter to order. 

He came back with two fruit smoothies, setting a strawberry banana (my favorite) down in front of me.   “Hey, baby, what’s going on?” he asked, not even attempting to make small talk.

I took a small sip of my smoothie and gagged.  I was sad, my favorite foods ruined for the time being.  I pushed it towards him, and he raised an eyebrow questioningly at me.  “Are you sick?”

If only he knew.  “Yeah, kind of, but...” and before I could finish he cut me off.

“Do we need to take you to the doctor?  I can drive you home and go pick up some chicken noodle soup for you.”

“No, Luke.  No.  It’s not like that.”

His eyes widened and I saw the fear in his eyes.  They even started to water, it seemed.  I realized his thoughts took him back to his sister.  “Oh, Luke, I’m okay, really.”

He visibly relaxed, his shoulders dropping.  “Then, what’s wrong?  Did your dad do something to you?” I saw the anger flaring in his eyes.

I looked around the cafe and saw no one else was in there.  I slipped the test out from the band of my jeans, and held it in my hands out to him so he could see the face.  He stared at the truth, frozen, sitting there innocently in my palms.