Losing Gabriel (11 page)

He was awake and felt her body's pressure on the mattress. He told himself he should say something to her. But he didn't. So they lay beside one another in the dark, without speaking and without touching.

L
ani was one of the first to know about Sloan and Dawson. When she went into the ob-gyn clinic at the hospital to pick up vials of blood work for the lab, she saw them sitting in the waiting area, a chair width apart. Each was concentrating on their cell phones, and although she passed right in front of them, they never looked up, never noticed her. The receptionist buzzed her into the patient-doctor area. Lani hurried to the staff room where the samples waited and where she stood for a moment catching her breath, waiting for her heartbeat to slow and stomach to settle.

One of the OB nurses, Patsy, breezed through the doorway of the all-white room. “Hey, Lani. Full house today. Rooms are packed with mamas-to-be. Whoa! You okay? You look pale as a ghost.”

“Guess I didn't eat enough breakfast this morning,” Lani lied, and forced a smile.

“Low blood sugar will get you every time. Sit down. I'll bring you some juice from our fridge in back.” The woman didn't wait for an answer, just left.

Lani eased into a straight-back chair and took deep breaths, trying to wrap her head around what she'd seen. And how much it hurt. She wanted to shrug it off, be indifferent, wanted to act as “a trained professional” in real-world lingo. She'd never had a chance with Dawson in the first place. He had belonged to Sloan Quentin for months. So why did seeing him in that waiting room hurt so much? Her answer—because now there was no more pretending, no more scripting of a kiss for herself that would never come. The door of wishful thinking slammed in her face.

Patsy returned and handed her a juice box. “This will hike up your blood sugar quickly. Go to the cafeteria and grab some food, though. If you don't, your glucose level will fall again.”

Lani poked the little straw into the top of the box with trembling fingers. She took a swig. “Um…I saw someone sitting out in the waiting room. Looked like a guy from my high school.”

Patsy glanced over her shoulder and leaned closer. “Dr. Berke's son and his girlfriend. Sad story. They're just kids. The girl's several months along and hasn't had any prenatal care. Doc Berke asked Dr. Ortiz to handle the pregnancy because teens are in the high-risk category and high risk is his specialty.” With every word, Lani felt her heart tumbling like rocks down a chute. “Ortiz likes the daddies to come to as many of the appointments as possible so he can hear exactly what's going on during the pregnancy. It helps a father bond with the baby that's coming.”

“Makes sense.” Lani could hardly speak. The juice tasted sickly sweet.

Patsy caught Lani's eye. “You won't say anything, will you? I mean, it's important to respect their privacy.”

Lani nodded. “I won't say anything.”

“I figured you wouldn't.” Patsy flashed a big grin. “You feeling better yet?”

Lani got to her feet. “Much,” she lied again. “Well, better get the blood samples over to the lab before they send out a hunting dog for me.” She picked up the sealed bag of vials. “Thanks for the juice.”

“See you next time.”

Lani went out to the waiting room, saw that Sloan and Dawson were gone, and surmised that they'd been called back and put into a small exam room. She hurried down the hall, remembering homecoming night and images of Sloan dressed in black leather, singing into a mike, looking like every guy's wet dream. Good thing the band had broken up already because Sloan would be trading her guitar for a baby sling. Lani knew she wouldn't say anything at school but also knew the news would get around. This kind of news always did.

“Guess what?” In the middle of the next week, while Lani was standing at her locker, Kathy came alongside zinging like a buzz saw. Lani froze, knowing in her gut what was coming next. Kathy blurted, “Sloan's pregnant. And Dawson's the daddy!”

Lani kept focus on her combination lock. “Where'd you hear that?”

“It's all over school. A few of the cheerleaders heard Sloan in the bathroom this morning in one of the stalls, and when she walked out, they could tell she'd been hanging facedown in the toilet.”

“Maybe she has the flu.” Lani spun the dial and tugged, but the lock held; she'd missed a number and started over.

“Nope. She's moved into Dawson's house. Marylyn saw them on Saturday going up on the porch with her suitcase. Anyway, today just confirms it. Moving in. Tossing her cookies this morning. No flu, Lani. Sloan's all preggie. Couldn't happen to a more deserving slut, eh?”

Lani wanted to slap the glee off Kathy's face. “
Really?
Is that the
only
topic of the day?”

Kathy cut her eyes. “I know it's all about Dawson for you, but babies are so preventable. I'll bet she wanted it to happen…maybe even planned it.”

Lani saw no reason for Kathy to torture her. She knew how Lani felt toward Dawson, and Lani knew for a fact that Kathy not only had no boyfriend, but she also hadn't even had a boy kiss her since seventh grade. Lani conquered her lock. “Well, I'm sorry it happened and
very
sorry people haven't got anything else to talk about, especially
you.
” Lani gathered her books, shut her locker, and scuttled down the hall, knowing that she'd just cut some kind of cord between herself and Kathy. Most likely irreparable.

Sloan ignored the gossip and stares as best she could. Let them talk! She'd faced them down for years, and she'd do it again. There were laws in place allowing pregnant teens to finish school and with graduation so close, the administration and teachers ignored her “condition.” She hid her growing abdomen under baggy shirts and pants with expandable waists.
Ugly clothes.

For his part, Dawson stayed by her side, walked her through the halls with his arm slung around her shoulders, even asked her if she'd like to do prom night. “If you want to go—”

“And wear what? Do they make preggie prom dresses? Do I want to be stared at all night long by girls wearing size twos? Get caught by roaming photo-trolls for a spot in our yearbook? I'm not the sentimental type, Dawson. Prom doesn't mean shit to me.”

So while their classmates dressed in beautiful gowns and tuxes and rode in rented limos to the prom held in the ballroom of the local Holiday Inn, Sloan and Dawson went to a midnight showing of a blood-and-guts action flick.

In the dark, nobody saw what you looked like.