Chapter 5 (What If)

    I’d expected Millie to blow up at me. That’s how she’s always been--hot tempered and always more angry than sad or upset. But instead of yelling at me, my sister comes forward and wraps me in a tight hug.
    And then all the tears I hadn’t shed after taking the tests finally pour down my face. I cry and she cries and everything after that is just completely horrible. The entire time I’m explaining to her, my palm sweat and my stomach is lurching, even though I know the hard part about telling her is over.
    You’d think that telling someone that you’re pregnant and then explaining everything to them would take hours. But no, it only took about fifteen minutes filled with crying on both our parts.
    It was impossible to make this conversation a long one when I didn’t know how to explain ninety percent of the details or how to explain my actions.
    Everybody always says that there should always be a reason behind sex and a plan, but that’s not true. Between Will and me, nothing had been planned. Not the sex, not even when he called me to go out.
    While I talk, I try to convincing myself that Will had to still have feelings for me. Real feelings that say maybe he wants to be with me, because I know Will--I know him better than anyone and I know that he’s not an irresponsible person or a bad guy. He may seem like a tough guy, but he was really sweet when we were going out and he was really gentle the night on the beach. If he had planned what had happened, he would have brought a condom. If he had planned what had happened, it wouldn’t have happened.
    And I can’t blame Will for anything anyway. I always take the easy way out. I always make the choice, that seems the easiest to live with at that moment, without thinking about the outcome. And that’s the thing--I knew that there was a consequence--possible many--for what we’d done that night. It had always been there, maybe not my first thought, but in the back of my mind. I’d known and I’d done it anyway. It had seemed that having sex with him was easier than wondering “what if” later.
    Though, not just “what if” about having sex with him. What if having sex with him meant he wasn’t with Becca anymore? What if this meant that he still loved me? What if we could work everything out?
    It hadn’t been my master plan to have sex with him to make him dump Becca, or to make him love me or so that we would get back together. It wasn’t like that at all. But his actions that night--not just the sex--meant something and I’d wanted to know what, but we’d never gotten to discussing that and the thought hadn’t crossed my mind until later.
    And I suppose that keeping the baby was my decision because of the “what if” factor. If gave it up for adoption, I knew I’d be jealous, thinking what if I’d just kept her or him. If I got an abortion I’d be sad knowing that I’d ended a life and thinking, what if I’d just gone through everything. It would kill me that I’d be wondering all these things about my own baby.
    “So what are you gonna do?” Millie asks at last from her place sitting atop the table in the middle of the studio.
    “Keep it.” I mumble with a shrug, leaning against a desk.
    “What about college?”
    I shrug.
    “What happened, Roxy?” She asks, suddenly exasperated. “You were always so focused on school and fashion and work--what happened?”
    “I don’t know.” I say, on the verge of tears again. “I really don’t know, Mills. I just never though about it. I didn’t plan on anything happening. With Will, I was supposed to just forget about him and move on like any other teen relationship. It was always there in the back of my mind and then he called me and…I’m sorry.” I say.
    “Don’t be.” Millie mumbles, though I can tell she’s angry. “This’ll be hard enough without you being all depressed.”
    “Mills, nobody else knows yet.” I tell her. “Can you please not tell anyone. I promise I’ll tell Mom and Dad when I’m ready.”
    “You’re gonna need Mom if you’re going to have kid, Roxy.”
    “I know.” I say. “But please. I just need a couple days to figure everything out and fix what I can.” I thought all the crying was done, but when I look up at Millie and see the pity and kindness and compassion on her face, tears well up in my eyes.
    It’s not exactly that I regret what had happened and what’s happening and what will happen--it’s just that I feel so completely guilty and horrible. I haven’t put anyone through hell yet or disappointed them yet, but the knowledge that I will and soon is almost more than I can stand. It’s also the fact that I made the choice that will bring them all pain and I had no problem making the choice.
    But I guess that there isn’t a option that wouldn’t disappoint or ruin anyone because there is no right or wrong choice in this situation. Not adoption or abortion or even keeping the baby. There’s just what is and what isn’t and what’s to be done about it.
    After I talk to Millie, I’m exhausted. I go straight home rather than work at the diner like I usually do. Mom likes us to go and we’re obligated, but she’ll understand if I’m just too tired. When I get home, I lock the front door behind me and go upstairs for a nap.
    I usually sleep on my back, but I remembered that I’d read something about pregnant women having to sleep on their left sides. Most times I try to fall asleep any other way than on my back, I just can’t, but I’m just so tired that I don’t even care.