Vodka and Lemonade

My eyelids felt heavy as I tried to open them. Sleep kept calling back to me, but I had important things to do today. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted with Zacky’s sleeping face. I never got how he could sleep through anything. I tried rolling over, but there was something behind me, blocking my path. Looking down my body, I saw Jimmy’s familiar arms wrapped around me. I quickly slipped out of the boys’ embraces and padded over to the room that used to be Zacky’s sister’s. I pulled on the set of clothes that Zacky’s mom had laid out for me last night and looked in the mirror. I frowned at my reflection. It literally looked like I was a small child trying on her big sister’s clothes. Biting my bottom lip, I ran a hand through my newly cleaned hair before turning away and walking down the stairs. I was almost out the door, but Zacky’s mom stopped me.

“Where are you going?” she asked kindly, coming from the kitchen. “I made breakfast.”

“Um, I-I need to go do something in town.”

“Do you want me to drive you?” she asked, putting her hand towel down.

“No, it’s fine. I-I like walking,” I stuttered as my hand turned the doorknob.

She walked closer to me. “Ok, that’s fine.”

I nodded and pushed on the door. “I’ll try to be back at a decent hour.”

She nodded her head again. “Alright. Just know that, what you’re about to do, you need parental consent.

Shocked, I let go of the door handle. “How-”

“I know that look. My best friend had that look when we were in high school. You know, that scared and petrified look that young girls get when they’re faced with that big, grown-up decision.”

“Look, I’m not going to expl-”

“I’m not looking for an explanation,” she cut me off again. “I just want you to think long and hard about the decision you’re about to make.” Her kind eyes were too much for me to bear.

“I-I can’t stop. I’m addicted. It-it hurts…all the time…and, I don’t want to subject a child to that. I-I can’t take care of them. It’s just like he said: I’m nothing but a cheap druggie whore. I can’t raise a child like that! I-I’ll forget about them, just like my mom forgot about me. No one should have to go through that. It’s horrible,” I said, tears trickling down my face. For me, it was a start. I can’t remember the last time I good and cried. Normally, I keep my emotions bottled up in my head, but for some reason, I felt as if I could trust the woman…that, or it was the baby making these emotions surface.

Zacky’s mom rushed over to me and held me close to her chest. One arm was wrapped tightly around my shoulders and the other was stroking my back. “Let them go, all the tears, the anger, the emotions. Let them all out.”

A few seconds later, I pulled away and wiped my eyes.

Zacky’s mom nodded her head. “Ok, let’s go,” she said, steering me to her car. We were on the road for about five minutes when she spoke again. “So, Zacky told me that you were in a lot of trouble and that, if asked, I was to say that you are a distant relative.”

“Yea, and?” I asked, my gaze fixed out the passenger window.

“Something tells me it’s bigger than you being pregnant.”

I turned to face her. “Look, I’m sorry to be an imposition on you and your family, but I just need a place to hide out for a while. I promise, if it looks like it’s getting dangerous, I’ll leave.”

“There are other options. We could go to the police.”

I let out a snort and chortle. “Yea, right, like I’m going to the pigs. They’ll take one look at my name and send me straight back to East LA. No way, I’m not doing that. I’m not being sent to slaughter. It’s best if we leave the pigs out. Chances are, they’ll stop by and question Jimmy and then leave. It’s what they do.”

Zacky’s mom nodded her head and pulled into the parking lot of a women’s clinic. I could tell that she was biting her tongue- that there was so much that she wanted to tell me. Meeri had that same look sometimes. “How long?”

I gave her a questioning stare.

“Your baby. How long have you been pregnant?”

“Um, almost three months, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I don’t have symptoms.”

“Then, how?”

“My former employer used to make us get tested. Luckily, the doc who was testing me kept switching my results with someone else.”

“Why?”

“Well, normally the boss would pay for abortions, but I was missing for a few weeks. So, to get a positive right after he found me again is not good. That’s how girls like me wind up dead.”

That same look was on her face. Only this time, it was mixed with shock and horror.”

“Alright, then follow me."

I followed her into the clinic and stepped up to the counter. “I need an abortion.”

“Sign these,” the woman behind the counter said, handing a clipboard to me. “And sign your name on the check-in list.”

I looked down at the taunting paper on the counter and pain-stakingly wrote down my name and reason: “A-B-O-R-S-H-U-N,” I spelled it out under my breath as I wrote it down, earning many curious glances. Throwing a glare to everyone in the room, I stalked over to the corner and sat down. Zacky’s mom soon joined me.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” she asked kindly after she noticed me staring at the paper.

“I’m no good at reading and writing,” I whispered.

She nodded and took the clipboard out of my lap. “How about I write down your information?”

~*~

“Will it hurt?” I asked the doctor.

He looked at me with a small smile. “You might feel some pressure down there from the suction, but it shouldn’t hurt.”

“Will it feel anything? I told it that this wouldn’t hurt.”

“Your baby won’t feel a thing, I promise. Now, lay back and relax. This should all be done soon.” Moments later, the doctor took out the suction tube and wrapped a towel around my baby.

“Can I ask what it is?”

He shook her head and placed it into a cooler. “Trust me, it’s better if you don’t know.”

I nodded my head. “Thank you.”

~*~

“I’m proud of you,” Zacky’s mom told me once we were headed back to the house. “You made a decision and stuck with it. That’s very rare to find in teenage girls.”

“My life should never have to be repeated,” I said without emotion as I stared at the passing scenery.

“Maybe one day you could tell me about it,” she suggested.

I didn’t respond. My life was not even worth mentioning. I would probably scare her, anyways. She would probably fear for her family if she knew the truth. No, she was better not knowing. Everyone was better not knowing. “Thank you,” I said in a feeble voice once we were back in the driveway. “For everything.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“I feel so bad that I don’t know your name.”

She smiled, “It’s Maria, but you can call me whatever you feel comfortable with.”