Two Blue Lines (Crossing The Line #1) (13 page)

And it sucked.

I plopped down in an empty desk in fourth period English next to one of “those” friends, named Jevon, and tested the waters. “Hey. What’s up?”

He tipped his chin. “Hey.”

“You get Mrs. Ridley for Physics?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Brutal.”

“Yeah.”

Okay. I was having a hard time gauging where this was going.

He finally looked at me. “So . . . I hear you knocked up your girl.”

Right. “Um. Yeah. She’s pregnant.”

“Then I guess you won’t be gettin’ outta the house too much anymore, huh? No more fun? Your life is pretty much over, isn’t it, dude?” He smirked like he was in on some big, cosmic secret.

I stared. “What?”

“Dude. Your baby mama is gonna have you so chained down you won’t know what hit you.” He sunk down in his chair and shook his head. “I feel sorry for you, man.”

“I—”

Baby mama. Chained. What the hell ever.

The bell rang before I could tell him he was out of his freakin’ mind.

Like I said earlier, screw them all.

August 25
th

OK, I suck at keeping a diary. So sue me.

But, guess what?!

I FELT THE BABY!

This morning, before I got out of bed, a rock hard lump just sort of filled my tummy all of a sudden. More than a little freaked out, I gently pressed on the little boulder and it shifted, rolling away like a bubble. Then, as I was staring at the alien-like movement that has taken over my body, I felt this teeny tiny whisper of a flutter—like butterfly’s wings—behind my pelvic bone.

It feels real now.

I wonder what my birth mom thought when she felt me move for the first time? Was she already planning to give me up then? Or did that come later?

I put my hand gently on my belly and thought long and hard about this baby. Whose DNA will it have? His? Or Reed’s?

But, as I felt this baby move, I knew for sure, 100% without a doubt, that no matter the circumstance, no matter the biology, this baby was mine. Forever.

But my lies feel like they’re piling up by the day. I’m thinking if I’m due in January, I’ll definitely tell Reed the truth before Christmas break. No later. I just need his love and support to get me through a little longer. Selfish? Probably.

But it was so obvious I needed him today. It was the first day of school and I was a nervous wreck. I know my pregnancy has gotten around, and being the “good girl” on the drill team, I’ll probably be made fun of. Hell, I know I will. I’m ashamed to admit I was right in the mix of it last year when Darinda Lawrence got knocked up by Joey Freemont. But she got an abortion. And that was before I understood.

And, even more than being stared and laughed at, I hate that Reed’s going to have to suffer along with me. It’s not fair to take the choice away from him, not when he’s trying to do the right thing. I know that. And I’m so, so, so sorry! I just want to be a normal girl again. But that was all taken away from me that night.

Battle of the Sex

“I’
m not going back.”

I stared at Melissa’s face as tears streamed down her cheeks, mimicking the raindrops streaking down the car’s windows, as we sat facing the obstetrician’s office the Tuesday after Labor Day.

School had been awkward for the past couple of weeks with people treating me just slightly different. Weirdly nicer, almost like they were afraid to say or do the wrong thing. A couple other guys had echoed Jevon’s sentiments, but I’d blown them off. Who needed those kind of friends? But for Melissa, school had been torturous and she’d had enough.

I reached over and brushed my thumb over her cheek, catching some of her tears, but hundreds more fell in their place. My poor baby. “Mel, you can’t just drop out of school.”

She faced me, misery shining in her eyes. “Why not?”

I tilted my head as a crack of thunder echoed. “You know why not.”

I drew her into my arms as fresh sobs wracked her body. Had people really been that horrible to her? “Mel, what’s going on?”

She mumbled against my chest something about the girls’ continued whispers and stares and how someone had called her a slut. Mean girl stuff.

“. . . and I ignored them all . . .” She sniffled. “I did. I have you. I have Peanut. But when the coach basically kicked me off the drill team today, I was a total laughing stock.”

“Can they do that?”

“Yes.” She dabbed her eyes and smeared her mascara. “It’s in our stupid handbook. Something about being a good example of morals or something.” She hiccupped. “Plus I don’t fit in the dumb uniform anymore, either. Now everyone thinks I’m a big, fat, pregnant loser!”

Oh, God. She loved being on the drill team. I stroked her back and tried to think of the right thing to say as frustration and anger surged through me. Anger at those girls for making her feel this way. At the coaches. At me for getting her pregnant in the first place.

Shit. What a cluster.

“You’re not a loser, babe.” I twirled her hair around my finger. “They are for being like that to you.” I bit my tongue before saying ‘
Who wants to be on the stupid ass drill team anyway?
’ I figured it might not go over well.

I held her until her cries subsided and we were nearly late for our appointment. “We gotta go in, Mel. Don’t you want your ultrasound? Isn’t today the day they can tell us if Peanut is a boy or girl?”

She nodded and sat back. “Yeah.” Though she looked less than thrilled.

We rushed in through the deluge, then I walked her into Dr. Foster’s office and we checked in. When the nurse called us back, Mel looked like a zombie and I wondered if people thought I’d drugged her.

She peed in the cup, weighed in, did her blood pressure and stuff, then we waited in the room with the mystery equipment and brochures for vasectomies and STDs. Fun, fun, but I was getting used to it.

I tried to smile at Mel, but she was having none of it.

Finally, Dr. Foster came in, Mel’s chart in his hand. “Good afternoon, you two.”

“Hey,” I said, trying to make up for Melissa’s lack of personality.

The doc frowned at her. “Everything okay?”

“She’s just tired today. Bad day at school.”

He nodded and did his usual exam. All good. “Okay, so today you’re twenty weeks. I’d like to send you across the hall for an ultrasound to check for growth and development.” He pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to me. “Here’s the order. Just give it to the clerk at the desk and you should be all set. Any questions?”

I glanced at Mel. Nothing. “Uh, no. Thank you, Sir.”

I led my brooding girl across the hall to the ultrasound department, and we waited in silence for our turn.

“Melissa Summers?” called a sunny blonde. Yes, that was the only way to describe her. Sunny. She smiled brightly, in complete opposition to the storm that continued to rage against the windows.

Mel stood and I followed.

“How are you today, sweetie?” the woman talked to Mel over her shoulder as we moved down a corridor.

“Okay,” Melissa answered, her voice monotone.

“It’s one wet day, isn’t it?” the blonde answered, her chipper voice syrupy with a Southern drawl.

Mel said nothing.

“Sure is,” I answered as she directed us into a dim room.

“Okay, darlin’. Would you like to leave your top on, or I can give you a gown to change into?” She eyed Mel with big blue eyes.

Melissa fingered her loose shirt. “I guess I’ll keep this on.”

“Perfect. Why don’t you just lie down.” She pointed out a stool. “And, Dad, you can sit there.”

My chest contracted. Good thing she gave me a place to sit because my knees suddenly became watery.

Dad
?

Uh, that was for old guys. Or men like . . . well, my dad. Khaki-wearing, lawn-edging on Sundays, football-obsessed, I-can-fix-anything-but-the-toaster kinda men. Not me.

Oblivious to my thoughts, the woman fired up her big ultrasound machine and chatted a mile a minute, but I heard nothing over the roar in my ears. Every step of this journey had made it more and more real. But today smacked me clear between the eyes.

Dad? Dads took you to soccer practice and built Lego forts with you and snuck Tooth Fairy money under your pillow, and taught you how to pry open an Oreo. Pitch a tent. Mow the grass. Be a man.

How did I get into that category?

Blindly, I squeezed Mel’s hand.

She squeezed back.

I met her eyes, feeling a bit wobbly.

She offered me a small smile. She seemed to be coming out of her funk, as if she was reading my mood and getting into the moment.

This was bigger than what the girls at school said. Bigger than drill team. Bigger than our parents. Than anything.

“Sorry, sweetie, this’ll be cold,” the woman said as she squeezed some blue goo on Mel’s belly. Yeah, we’d done this before. But this time, I marveled at how big and round Mel’s bare stomach was. I hadn’t seen it in a while.

The woman moved the wand around, stopped, clicked knobs and buttons.

My heart seemed to beat in time with Peanut’s when she showed it to us.

It had arms and legs now with fingers and toes. It looked like a person. No more alien invasion.

Mel laughed when the lady pointed out the baby’s nose and lips. “Kissable lips.”

“Just like yours,” I whispered and leaned down to give her a kiss.

“Now, now,” the woman admonished. “No making out in the ultrasound suite. That’s how these things happen, you know.” She smiled into my eyes. “Would you like to know what you’re having?”

My eyes flew to Melissa’s. “Yes.”

“No.” We spoke at the same time.

“What?” I said. “But I thought we both wanted to know.”

Mel shrugged. “I know. But I just decided that it might be more fun to be surprised.”

We had a silent stare-down for several seconds. Yes. No. Maybe?

Finally, the sunny ultrasound tech broke in. “Tell you what, how about if I just write it down for you, then if you decide to sneak a peek, you can? Okay?”

Mel nodded.

“Okay,” I said, turning back to stare at my once Peanut, now actual baby, on the black and white screen. The face was frozen in place as the tech scribbled something on a small slip of paper, tucked it into an envelope, and handed it to Mel. I simply stared, trying to make out the tiny features. Sealed eyes. Nose. Mouth. Indistinguishable, yet unique.

Mine.

Ours.

It was nearly too much to comprehend. I took a breath, ignored the wet heat accumulating behind my eyes, and shifted in my seat as Melissa wiped the goo from her belly and sat up.

“Ready to go?” she asked as she tucked the mystery envelope in her purse.

“Yup.” I rose and took her hand to lead her out, the smiling tech waving goodbye.

We drove straight for our spot at the beach, the silence heavy between us. That, and the envelope.

By now, the rain had slowed to a sleepy drizzle. The roads cleared to the occasional passerby as everyone was in work or school. It felt like we were cocooned in the gray mist of the day. The clouds. The emotion.

I pulled into the furthest spot next to the pier facing the ocean and cut the engine.

The only sounds were the distant rage of the churned up waves and our ragged breathing. We’d sat like this probably a hundred times. Made-out, talked, laughed. Loved. Today was different.

Mel shifted in her seat and I felt her eyes on my profile. “Do you really wanna know?”

I glanced at her and shrugged. “I guess. Don’t you?”

I watched her pick at a string on the edge of her sweater. “I can wait.” She peered at me with her nearly black eyes. The eyes I could swim in like pools of midnight. “What if we wait until the baby shower?”

I could live with that. What was the big deal anyway? “’Kay.”

She smiled softly, her eyes dipping to my mouth. “’Kay.”