Seventeen and Invincible

“She isn’t okay,” John remarked quickly. He had managed to hunt Garrett and I down at a Starbucks halfway across town on the way to the lake. “She went back to the doctor and she needs a D and C. She’s in pain and she won’t tell anyone. She won’t tell anyone how much pain she’s really in and she doesn’t want to have the procedure.” He ran his hands through his hair trying to think of something else to say—to explain the situation.

“She’s scared.” He looked over at me and I thought he might attack.

“I know she’s scared and I don’t blame her, but she needs to tell someone. She needs to admit she isn’t okay, because she refuses to believe it.” He sat down on the curb between Garrett and I and jumped up again quickly—anxiously. “She needs to realize that if she doesn’t take care of this she’s hurting herself and putting her life at risk.” He turned to face the glass windows of the coffee shop and then turned back to us on his heels.

“John, you don’t get it,” I sighed, “she’s petrified. Not only is she in horrible, excruciating pain physically, she’s in it emotionally too. She doesn’t want to remember that she lost her ability to choose at the last second. She doesn’t want to remember.” He sat down again and ran his fingers through his hair again. “We all know,” I started again, “that she wasn’t making any decision that day. We all know she wasn’t going through with it—she just doesn’t have the heart to.” He was fidgeting nervously at my side.

“I know. But she still needs to tell someone. She needs to tell her parents. They need to know.”

“Woah,” I let out a slight chuckle. “You can’t be serious. They will kill her, John.”

“They’re her parents. They’ll have to understand. And I mean, they’ve gotta know something’s wrong, right? She hasn’t been herself.” He stood up again and any passersby must have thought he was high or crazy or something of the sorts.

“No, no. Again, you don’t get it. Her parents are first generation born here from Italy. They’re stricter than strict and will probably crucify her. They’ll rip her to shreds and make it that much worse.” I picked up my iced coffee from the concrete and took a sip.

“She has to tell them though.” He paced back and forth. “When they see how broken up she is about it they’ll back off, right?” He looked hopeful, but we all knew that they wouldn’t back off.

“How far are you willing to go to get her to tell them?” Garrett chimed in, pushing his sunglasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

“I’d do anything.” John continued to pace back and forth, driving himself insane. “Anything,” he repeated quietly.

“You’d tell them it was your baby?” He stopped dead in his tracks to face Garrett, who by the way looked like he’d almost regretted the words that had left his mouth.

“I don’t know. I guess. Maybe. If she really needed me to.” He walked in a circle and went back to pacing. “I don’t know.”

“They like you,” I added, “they won’t be as harsh.” Garrett nodded in agreement and John ran his hands through his hair again, pulling on the ends and occasionally scratching the back of his neck out of nervousness.

“But it’d be a lie,” he replied. “I don’t want to lie to them. I just want them to know what’s going on with Mia.”

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It was seven thirty that night and I was sitting uncomfortably at Garrett’s side on the couch in the family room at Mia’s house. The occasional yell or swear was audible as John tried to coax Mia down the stairs to talk to her parents. We all knew he’d win eventually.

Her face was tearstained and her eyelashes were clumped together. Her cheeks and eyes were bright red and her hair was thrown together in a bun—it probably hadn’t even been brushed in days. She was wearing an oversized t-shirt that had probably belonged to John once upon a time. She stood in the middle of the room alone as John went to get her parents. She choked on tears and sobs as she stood there.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered to her reassuringly taking her hand in his.

“Mia?” her father asked sternly. She closed her eyes and more tears fell. I held onto Garrett’s hand simply because I was afraid for her. “Amelia?”

“I was pregnant,” she choked out quickly. “I was going to have a baby.” Her hand moved from her side to hover over the place where her child had once been; where her stomach had once been slightly swollen with life.

“You stupid, irresponsible whore!” he yelled. She cringed and squeezed her eyes shut even more tightly. “How could you disgrace your family like that? Who the hell is the father? How the hell do you expect to take care of a baby?” She sobbed loudly and forced her thoughts to become words.

“I was pregnant.” She inhaled shakily through the tears. “I-I had a miscarriage. I have to go for a D and C. I’ve been in pain for the last week and a half.” She cringed as her mother began to weep—and not because her grandchild was no longer growing in her daughter’s womb.

“This, you ignorant slut, is a blessing in disguise,” her father spat. “How could you care for an infant alone? And how would a child raised by someone so filthy turn out?” She sobbed loudly and opened her eyes slightly. “Who’s was it anyway? He,” he motioned to John, “has been gone all summer.”

“I-It was…” she started, but was quickly cut off.

“It was my baby,” John replied quickly, softly. “I was the father.” Mia looked up in confusion. “She found out while I was away. It was conceived the night before I left.”

I sat next to Garrett, shocked that John had claimed the deceased fetus as his own child.

The look on Mia’s face was indescribable. She seemed upset and elated at the same time; like she wanted to slap John across the face and hug him simultaneously.

“Is this true Amelia?” her father asked accusingly. “Was it really John’s?” She nodded reluctantly. She didn’t want to lie, but she was given no other choice.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry for disgracing you. I’m sorry for hurting this entire family. I apologize. I will go to church and pray and repent and hope that God forgives me.” She moved closer to John and tilted her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be apologizing to us. You should be apologizing to him for taking his first child away from him.” She wanted to scream, we could all see it, but the words just wouldn’t come out. She wanted to tell them how it was her first child too and how it was taken away from her too. Instead she pulled herself away from John and walked quietly up the stairs.

Mia wouldn’t be okay for a long time.