Chapter 3 (Clear Blue Easy)

    I can’t help but feel all mushy during fifth period Calculus. Just knowing that this would be my last time in this class with my friends was sad.
    I didn’t see graduating as a good thing anymore. It terrifies me to be growing up so fast, especially knowing that I was going to be forced to grow up in less than a year. The thought of going to college and leaving behind high school…
    But would I even go to college? That had been the whole point of me graduating early--so that I could go on to college and start the profession I wanted as soon as possible. I’d always been so eager to grow up. To start my first year in high school, to be a Junior and an upperclassmen, to work, to drive, to get out of high school.
    So what happened?
    Well, reality, I guess. You can’t always get what you want, but being honest, most of the time in the past, I did. I’d chosen the way I wanted to live and I’ve done everything to get to where I wanted to be. And it had all been a choice and it had all been in my control. But now…nothing was. Everything had come to a dead halt last night and I have no idea if they’ll start back up again or what will happen if they do.
    For the last hour of class after I finished my exam, I sit in my seat and talk to Amanda and Lauren. Although I’m frightened of what’s to come, I can still talk to my friends about normal things. I can still laugh when my best guy friend, Miles, who is gay and really good at insults, completely shuts down the annoying guy. I still feel mushy when the bell rings and I say goodbye to my Calculus teacher who is covered in chalk, like always.
    I tell my friends that I’ll catch up with them in a few minutes because I finally need to use the bathroom. I’d been sipping water all through Calculus. Amanda and Lauren offer to come with me but I decline.
    I thank God that the bathrooms are empty. Like in any other high school, finding a stall that has toilet paper, a lock that works, and a flushed toilet is rare, but they do exist. I lock the door firmly behind me and pull the two boxes from my purse.
    I read the instructions nearly five times and minutes slowly crawl by as I build up my courage.
    Even knowing that this little test will determine my fate, it still feels weird having to pee on a stick, then hold it the rest of the pee, then pee on three other sticks. It probably would have been a lot easier to just pee in the provided cup and stick all the tests in, but I really didn’t want to get my hands too dirty.
    I place the overcap on each wet absorbent tip of the test and lay it on the ground after I’m finished.
    I sit on the edge of the toilet for a full three minutes, waiting for the results.
    Each box had two pregnancy tests in it. I check the first stick which is the First Response pregnancy test.
    The instructions say that there will be one line in the result window if it’s a negative. If there’s two pink lines, then it’s positive. But when I look down at the first stick, there’s no line at all. I must have done it wrong.
    I pick up the next stick of the same brand.
    My ears begin to ring as I stare down feeling each breath scrape my dry throat.
    There in the result window are two lines. One is dark and the other one is so light that it’s almost invisible. Almost. But it’s still there.
    I swallow, mentally nodding in acceptance before looking at the next two tests and strangely don’t shed a tear.
    Clear Blue Easy is clearly blue. But there’s nothing easy about finding out that I’m pregnant. So what do I do? Who do I turn to?
    I’ve heard the story before, but now that I’m in those shoes, wearing them seems so straight forward. What would I do? What choice would I make?
    Keep the baby? Give it away? Abort the baby? Or give it life?
    And throwing in my family, my friends, and life all together, well this was a bad situation.
    But I know that I have no choice. I can’t kill something that would turn into someone. And even though this is number one on my Oh Crap list, I already love the little baby inside me and can’t get rid of it. I can’t do it, even if it means ending my life right before it really starts.
    The bell rings again. Usually it seems to quiet and unnoticeable. Now if seems loud and makes me jump. Did I really spend my entire recess in a bathroom stall?
    Pulling myself together, I crush the boxes and shove them along with the positive tests into a little sanitary bag and dump them before washing my hands and heading to sixth period French.