Playing With Fire

"So you're saying that Pluto isn't a planet?" Joe asked Kevin.

"Yes."

"Who said?"

"That dude who does the evening news or something."

"No freaking way! That's some crap!"

"I know, right."

"What is it then? A random speck in space?"

"I dunno, do I look like an anthropologist?"

"An anthropologist is a person who studies bones, stupid."

"Whatever!"

"Guys! Chill, would you?" Nick interrupted. We were all at Starbucks and Nick had just brought over the drinks. Frappucinos for Joe and Kevin, a sugar-free strawberries and creme frap for Nick, and a tall hot chocolate for me. "You're drinking the whole thing, 'kay?" Nick said, smiling as he set my drink down in front of me and sat down.

"'Kay," I replied. Suddenly, I felt my cell phone vibrate in my pocket. I dug into my jeans and pulled it out, hitting "talk." "Hello?" I spoke into the receiver.

No answer.

"Hello?" I said again. "Hm," I shut my phone.

"What was that all about?" Kevin asked me from across the table.

"Dunno," I shrugged, slipping the phone back into my pocket.

"Hmm," Kevin said. "Alright well, back to Pluto..." Joe and Kevin then went into a heated discussion about planets and moons. Nick turned to me.

"Drink," he said simply.

"Right," I nodded. I grabbed the cup slowly and took a sip. It was creamy and smooth. I tried to remember the last time I'd had hot chocolate. I smiled, thinking of the many Christmases I'd spent with my family when I was younger and how we'd drink hot chocolate by the fireplace and make s'mores. But then, my heart sank.

The very last time I'd had hot chocolate was when it happened. Five months ago.

I pushed the cup away and started to hyperventilate. The memories flooded back into my mind. Every one of my senses were triggered by that one taste. I began crying.

"Kara? Kara, what's wrong?" Nick's arms went around me, holding me tight. "Kara?" I saw Kevin and Joe stop yelling at each other and stare at me wide-eyed.

"I can't drink it. Please don't make me, Nick. Please," I whispered, begging God to take the memories away.

"Kara, it's okay. It's just hot chocolate," he said.

"No, no it's not. It's him, Nick. It's him..." I cried. Nick's heart began to speed up.

"Let's go," he said firmly. He grabbed my arm and led me outside and into the car while Kevin paid the bill for the drinks and Joe quickly followed.

The whole ride home, I was in a trance. The memory replayed in my head, over and over again. Why was it that just one sip could trigger an overflow of emotions? I hated that about my life. Every single damn thing was a reminder. I couldn't escape it. I couldn't run away.

My phone began to ring again. I ignored it absentmindedly. One ring, two rings, three...

"Answer it, Nick. It could be whoever called before," said Joe. Nick glanced at me and then dug his hand into my jean pocket gently, pulling out my phone and answering it. I wasn't paying attention, but I knew no one was on the other line.

"People are creeps," said Nick, putting the phone back and pulling me back into his arms.

On the way back, we stopped by my apartment to see if my mom had gotten home yet. Again, no luck. No surprise. So we drove back to the Jonas house. We pulled into the driveway, parked the car, and went inside. We all sat in the living room, watching television, while Mr. and Mrs. Jonas prepared dinner.

I realized that if I focused on Nick's face, I became relaxed. His features just seemed to bring comfort to my heart.

Suddenly, my phone rang again. The boys groaned. "UGH! Give me the phone, Kara, so I can tell whoever that is to piss off," said Kevin. I smiled.

I whipped out my phone. I had a new email:

"Kara,

I tried to call you numerous times, but I couldn't do it. I can't put what I'm about to say in verbal words.

I can't do it anymore, Kara. I simply can't. You have always been my life, but I can't deal with it anymore. I offered you an abortion, but you refused. Your life is ruined, Kara. Ruined. You've chosen to raise this baby on your own and I can't help you.

By now, I'm long way gone. I have an important press conference in Washington and I don't know if I'll be coming back. Having a pregnant daughter is ruining my reputation and my career. I refuse to allow this to ruin my life as well as yours.

I suggest you get a job to support your child. Maybe move in with a friend, considering you have no funds and I have put the house up on the market. But the best advice I can give to you is to seek professional help. It'll do you some good.

-Melissa Chanel"

The phone dropped to the ground and I went along with it.