Young and Pregnant

The summer air was hot and humid against her bare skin as she slouched down the street toward the poor district of Morgan Oak. The small town atmosphere of closely knit family life dissipated once you crossed off Pexlyn Circle—the last of the middle class residential communities—and onto Hastening Church Road. The Hastening community was a place of yellowed lawns and broken down cars and girls with patchwork dresses; Hastening was a different world to upper-middle class Cassandra, but tonight it felt like home.

She stuck out like a sore thumb as she shuffled down the cracked sidewalk. Her tennis shoes were name brand, bright white, and the laces were a girly shade of bubble gum pink. She had dressed in slate gray, form fitting slacks and a crisp white shirt with its sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Even her perfectly coiffed auburn hair was a neon sign that displayed the blatant fact that Cassandra did not belong.

So why did she feel like this was home?

Maybe she was just being cynical. Teen moms were normally trailer trash. Her mother had told her so on multiple occasions. In fact, her mother had insisted that girls who had sex before marriage should be looked down upon in general.

I’ve probably permanently damaged my relationship with my mother. Cassandra thought idly. Just like she didn’t know why her supposedly refreshing walk had brought her to Hastening, she didn’t know why she was suddenly feeling sentimental.

She loved her mother very much like any good daughter would, but Cassandra had never been particularly close to her mother. Ashland Manavit-Caldwell was a business woman to the core. She had never had time for her children and, even now that Cassandra was grown, she insisted on patronizing her and treating her like an irresponsible school girl.

Maybe that was how she got in this situation in the first place. Trying to stick it to her mom. I just wanted to rebel a little bit. Not ruin everything. Cassandra told herself that much, but it didn’t really matter. Her reasoning was pointless and futile now. As her grandfather would’ve put it, she was a day late and a dollar short.

The teen girl placed a gentle hand on her abdomen as she passed a dilapidated shack. The lawn had weeds growing as high as her knees and various bits of trash tumbled about the square of filthy property. But none of that had really stood out or caught Cassandra’s eye. No, she was looking at the woman standing on the front porch.

The woman couldn’t have been much older than Cassandra, but unlike Cassandra she looked dirty and so very depressed like she had never been happy in her life. On the woman’s hip with a tiny boy with messy hair that was cloying with grease and who’s pudgy body was smeared with red food product. It was a painful picture. Something Cassandra could never have imagined for herself three weeks ago, but now... Now, maybe.

“Stop staring. This isn’t a free sideshow.” A voice that was high-pitched and strained called out from the porch. Cassandra started with a stifled gasp of surprise.

“Sorry.” She tossed her blue eyes to the ground while mentally scolding herself for being so rude. This woman obviously lived a hard life, and Cassandra knew that if they’re roles were reserved she wouldn’t want the woman gaping at her.

“Is something wrong with you?” The woman called although her tone contained no malevolence Cassandra couldn’t help, but take mild offense. What kind of question was that to ask a perfect stranger?

She looked up and was surprised to see the soft look of concern on the woman’s face. Two thick lines furrowed in the woman’s brow and her eyebrow was lifted in question. It wasn’t the face of an angelic messenger, but Cassandra found herself feeling confessional anyways. Call it stress and bad timing.

“That’s one way to put it.” Cassie groused as she unconsciously patted her stomach. “Or you could say I’m unwittingly ‘in the family way’.” She winced because saying it out loud, even almost mockingly, was a hard and unwelcome task.

The woman shook her head sending particles of dirt flying, “Course, you are. I knew that right from the start. You got that I Fucked and Now I’m Fucked look.” Although that wasn’t the most eloquent way to put it, Cassandra supposed it got the point across well enough.

“I’m Summer.” The woman offered as she walked down her porch steps and approached Cassandra. “And this is Baby Robert. Named ‘im after his daddy. Reckon Big Robert ain’t gonna be ‘round here no more so I mostly called this un Birdie.” The baby on her hip burped and gurgled as if to confirm his mother’s words.

“Cassandra. I mostly call the baby, Mistake.”

Summer laughed indulgently although there wasn’t really anything funny about the whole situation. Cassandra guessed that the other girl just wanted to be polite. Or maybe Summer did think it was funny that a perfect girl like Cassie could fuck up to... No, more likely she was being polite because Summer didn’t strike Cassandra as the spiteful type.

“I called Birdie that for a year or two before I got the hell over it. Can’t cry over spilled milk and can’t afford to abort babies.”

“My boyfriend’s a Christian. He won’t consider letting me get rid of this and I know that my mother absolutely hates the thought of me being another Teenage Mother with no prospects.” Cassandra went ahead and let the facts of the matter out.

Although she came from a christian background, Cassandra had decidedly been an atheist for several years. It was a kind of private fact that she mostly kept to herself. She had stayed with Alec despite them having very little in common and she continued to indulge him despite no longer getting any enjoyment out of their relationship. Two months ago she had thought she was just doing what was nice until she could disappear for college. Now she was terrified and stuck.

Alec was going to fight that damnable war and she was going to have a child. Well, possibly. Maybe she was going to work up the guts and courage to just tell her religious parents and boyfriend that she intended to abort the baby. She had a life to live.

We’re not those kind of people. Alec’s words rushed unbidden into her thoughts. Not what kind of people? She angrily thought back. It was her body. It was her right. She wanted a career as a world renown journalist for women’s rights. Alec wasn’t making the sacrifice, but he had sure been quick to pass judgement on her attempt at lessening her own sacrifice. Abortion would still be a sacrifice in the sense that everyone she loved would view her in a darker light, but that was a sacrifice that was far easier for her to live with.

Alec didn’t understand anything. Least of all, her. He was the stereotypical hometown boy who was decent at football, liked to drink with the boys, and was joining the army because the corporate world would eat him alive.

And now I’m having his child. For the love of it.

“Earth to Beauty Queen.” Summer’s voice yanked her from her increasingly irate thoughts. Summer was waving a frail hand in front of Cassandra’s face with a worried look plastered on her sunken features. “You need professional help or something?” It was a question not a statement.

Cassandra shook her head and plastered on the most fake of all smiles in her repertoire, “No. I was merely thinking about what a bitch fate is.”

Summer laughed, cynical not indulgent this time. “Believe me, Beauty Queen. This is only the tip of the ice berg. Things get much, much worse.”

“Hn.” She grunted, noncommittal. “I don’t see how things can get any worse than what they already are.” She groused not caring if her words were a cliche line for tempting fate.

“Beauty Queen, I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.” Summer choked out between her giggles. Cassandra really, really didn’t see what was so funny, but she nodded anyways because sometimes the only thing you can do is nod along and play nice.