Status: Hopefully a better rewrite (fingers and hearts crossed)
Take This to Your Grave
Who knows if I'll be okay
After Babette dropped me off, I went straight up to my room and crawled into my bed. I was tired and didn't feel the need to do anything. I wasn't in a deep sleep, but my eyes were heavy and I couldn't make myself move if I wanted to. My head wavered between sleep and reality; I jolted upright when I heard my window opening. I almost laughed when I saw Pete crawling in; "The hell?"
He was a slight blur in my sleepy vision, "Just like old times."
I smiled and buried my head back into my pillow, "Why didn't you just knock?"
"I knew you'd be lying down and I didn't want you to get up." I listened to him kick his shoes off and then his jeans (his belt buckle clinked as he took them off).
I kept my eyes closed and only felt; he sunk into my bed and then wrapped his arms around me. He kissed the side of my neck, his breathing tickled my skin; it took a lot not to tell him that I was possibly carrying his baby and that I was scared shitless about it. But, at that moment, I wasn't scared, I was really happy; almost joyous. Being with someone you love so much can change how you feel in an instant. I was glad he had shown up when he had.
"Are you still sick?" He asked in a soft whisper.
"A little."
His hands ran over my stomach, "I'm sorry."
I wasn't sick then, I was actually happy his hands rolled over the skin of my stomach, "Don't be sorry, it's not your fault."
Well, I wasn't sure if it was his, or really our joint fault.
Pete pulled me closer to him, the rhythm of his breathing was lulling me to sleep. My single thought was that I hoped that if we were bound to each other for the rest of our lives -due to a child- that it would be like this forever. We both deserved some sort of peace even if we fucked up royally.
Pete had left when my dad had come home late in the evening. I wasn't as sick as I had been earlier, and you don't understand how grateful I was for it. Though, we had only laid in my bed, it was nice not having to get up and throw up every few minutes.
After Pete had gone, my dad checked up on me; "How're you feelin'?"
"I'm okay now. I think I'm getting over whatever it is." I told him.
"You're lookin' better, too." He sat on the edge of my bed, "Amy and me are gonna go out of town tomorrow afternoon to meet up with her friends, will you be alright on your own?"
"Yeah, I will."
"You sure?"
I hummed, "Yeah, dad, how long will you guys be gone?"
"Just over night, nothing long."
"I'll be just fine." I smiled just a bit. "Don't worry about me."
He chuckled, "I can't help but to worry about you, you're my kid. Do you need anything?"
"No, not at all."
My dad looked me over, and I wondered if I had given myself away. He exhaled softly and patted my knee, "Stay put and get well."
"I know."
My dad got up and kissed my forehead, "We got some food if you're hungry, too."
"I'm just gonna sleep for a bit longer."
"Feel better."
I nodded slowly, watching my dad leave my bedroom. The door shut behind him, my heart grew heavier than it ever had; I wasn't sure how I would explain any of this to my dad. I was hoping I wouldn't have to; he'd lose his shit if he knew the half.
It was 10 am when I got a call from the clinic; my results were in. I debated about going by myself or calling Babette. My folks had just left, so I was on my own, pacing between the phone and the stairs.I finally just decided to call Babette and have to pick me up. I don't think I could drive on my own anyway.
"Hey, what's up?"
"I just got a call from the clinic, can you take me? I don't think I can drive myself."
"Yeah, sure. I got into work at 12, will you need me after?"
"I'm not sure." I mumbled, "I won't keep you though."
"We'll figure it out."
Babette's entire demeanor made me feel better; she had a handle on things that I should have a handle on. She made this situation seem so light and so easy to deal with; I wasn't sure how she did it, she's amazing. I wish I had just half the strength and mentality she has.
When she finally arrived, I hurried out, hoping that maybe I was walking in a nightmare. Maybe I was dreaming and that I would wake up at any given moment. Babette seemed too good to be true; I often wondered if I would wake up back in Manhattan in my mom and step-dad's brownstone.
"You aren't sick today?"
"No, I'm alright." I answered. "I'm surprised, I'm...more than anxious, not scared."
"Maybe this is a good sign." She smiled.
"I hope so."
Babette parked in a spot and I told her I would go in; she didn't disagree or pester to come along. She patted my back and inside I went; the nerves came out then; it was filled with a few girls and women. I wen up to the front and told the woman behind the desk why I was there. It seemed like a large blur as I sat, waited and then was called back. The nurse the day before had smiled at me, greeted me, "How are you?"
"I'm fine...nervous." I spoke softly.
She nodded as then she sat at a desk with files; I sat beside the desk, watching her hands. Her slender, pasty white fingers shuffled the papers and then opened a file. I couldn't look at her face, just her hands; her green painted fingernails were hypnotizing me; "Naomi, did you hear me?" Her soft, warm voice broke me.
"Huh?" My eyes ran up to her face. "My apologies, what did you say?"
"I said that your test came back positive, it's hard to tell but you may be 5 to 6 weeks along."
The words did not register.
"Excuse me?" I muttered thoughtlessly.
"Honey, your pregnancy test came back positive."
Still, still it did not hit me.
"So...I'm..." The words felt like some foreign language.
"You're pregnant, Naomi."
My heart fell into my gut.
"Pregnant." I stated with a blank mind.
"You have options; we can give you pamphlets and numbers to doctors if you need them."
I just stared at her, "What?"
She turned to me and looked at me forwardly, "Are you alright, honey?"
My mouth had it's own mind; "I'm pregnant. With Pete's baby. My dad is going to kill me."
"Do you need someone to help you?"
"My dad's not going to actually kill me, he's just gonna yell."
I'm baffled at how I managed to say all this.
"You have options," he relayed again, "You're almost 18, you can do whatever you want."
I inhaled and exhaled, "I know."
"Do you need anything, Naomi?"
I shook my head, "No...no, I'll be okay."
I was lying.
"I'll give you some information and you can call if you need help with anything."
"Thanks." I mumbled.
Even as the nurse left me alone in the small office, none of it truly registered. It was on the surface of my brain, but it didn't sink in; not until I was outside and inside of Babette's car. It hit me like a ton of bricks; I broke down crying and bowed my head between my legs.
He was a slight blur in my sleepy vision, "Just like old times."
I smiled and buried my head back into my pillow, "Why didn't you just knock?"
"I knew you'd be lying down and I didn't want you to get up." I listened to him kick his shoes off and then his jeans (his belt buckle clinked as he took them off).
I kept my eyes closed and only felt; he sunk into my bed and then wrapped his arms around me. He kissed the side of my neck, his breathing tickled my skin; it took a lot not to tell him that I was possibly carrying his baby and that I was scared shitless about it. But, at that moment, I wasn't scared, I was really happy; almost joyous. Being with someone you love so much can change how you feel in an instant. I was glad he had shown up when he had.
"Are you still sick?" He asked in a soft whisper.
"A little."
His hands ran over my stomach, "I'm sorry."
I wasn't sick then, I was actually happy his hands rolled over the skin of my stomach, "Don't be sorry, it's not your fault."
Well, I wasn't sure if it was his, or really our joint fault.
Pete pulled me closer to him, the rhythm of his breathing was lulling me to sleep. My single thought was that I hoped that if we were bound to each other for the rest of our lives -due to a child- that it would be like this forever. We both deserved some sort of peace even if we fucked up royally.
•
Pete had left when my dad had come home late in the evening. I wasn't as sick as I had been earlier, and you don't understand how grateful I was for it. Though, we had only laid in my bed, it was nice not having to get up and throw up every few minutes.
After Pete had gone, my dad checked up on me; "How're you feelin'?"
"I'm okay now. I think I'm getting over whatever it is." I told him.
"You're lookin' better, too." He sat on the edge of my bed, "Amy and me are gonna go out of town tomorrow afternoon to meet up with her friends, will you be alright on your own?"
"Yeah, I will."
"You sure?"
I hummed, "Yeah, dad, how long will you guys be gone?"
"Just over night, nothing long."
"I'll be just fine." I smiled just a bit. "Don't worry about me."
He chuckled, "I can't help but to worry about you, you're my kid. Do you need anything?"
"No, not at all."
My dad looked me over, and I wondered if I had given myself away. He exhaled softly and patted my knee, "Stay put and get well."
"I know."
My dad got up and kissed my forehead, "We got some food if you're hungry, too."
"I'm just gonna sleep for a bit longer."
"Feel better."
I nodded slowly, watching my dad leave my bedroom. The door shut behind him, my heart grew heavier than it ever had; I wasn't sure how I would explain any of this to my dad. I was hoping I wouldn't have to; he'd lose his shit if he knew the half.
•
It was 10 am when I got a call from the clinic; my results were in. I debated about going by myself or calling Babette. My folks had just left, so I was on my own, pacing between the phone and the stairs.I finally just decided to call Babette and have to pick me up. I don't think I could drive on my own anyway.
"Hey, what's up?"
"I just got a call from the clinic, can you take me? I don't think I can drive myself."
"Yeah, sure. I got into work at 12, will you need me after?"
"I'm not sure." I mumbled, "I won't keep you though."
"We'll figure it out."
Babette's entire demeanor made me feel better; she had a handle on things that I should have a handle on. She made this situation seem so light and so easy to deal with; I wasn't sure how she did it, she's amazing. I wish I had just half the strength and mentality she has.
When she finally arrived, I hurried out, hoping that maybe I was walking in a nightmare. Maybe I was dreaming and that I would wake up at any given moment. Babette seemed too good to be true; I often wondered if I would wake up back in Manhattan in my mom and step-dad's brownstone.
"You aren't sick today?"
"No, I'm alright." I answered. "I'm surprised, I'm...more than anxious, not scared."
"Maybe this is a good sign." She smiled.
"I hope so."
Babette parked in a spot and I told her I would go in; she didn't disagree or pester to come along. She patted my back and inside I went; the nerves came out then; it was filled with a few girls and women. I wen up to the front and told the woman behind the desk why I was there. It seemed like a large blur as I sat, waited and then was called back. The nurse the day before had smiled at me, greeted me, "How are you?"
"I'm fine...nervous." I spoke softly.
She nodded as then she sat at a desk with files; I sat beside the desk, watching her hands. Her slender, pasty white fingers shuffled the papers and then opened a file. I couldn't look at her face, just her hands; her green painted fingernails were hypnotizing me; "Naomi, did you hear me?" Her soft, warm voice broke me.
"Huh?" My eyes ran up to her face. "My apologies, what did you say?"
"I said that your test came back positive, it's hard to tell but you may be 5 to 6 weeks along."
The words did not register.
"Excuse me?" I muttered thoughtlessly.
"Honey, your pregnancy test came back positive."
Still, still it did not hit me.
"So...I'm..." The words felt like some foreign language.
"You're pregnant, Naomi."
My heart fell into my gut.
"Pregnant." I stated with a blank mind.
"You have options; we can give you pamphlets and numbers to doctors if you need them."
I just stared at her, "What?"
She turned to me and looked at me forwardly, "Are you alright, honey?"
My mouth had it's own mind; "I'm pregnant. With Pete's baby. My dad is going to kill me."
"Do you need someone to help you?"
"My dad's not going to actually kill me, he's just gonna yell."
I'm baffled at how I managed to say all this.
"You have options," he relayed again, "You're almost 18, you can do whatever you want."
I inhaled and exhaled, "I know."
"Do you need anything, Naomi?"
I shook my head, "No...no, I'll be okay."
I was lying.
"I'll give you some information and you can call if you need help with anything."
"Thanks." I mumbled.
Even as the nurse left me alone in the small office, none of it truly registered. It was on the surface of my brain, but it didn't sink in; not until I was outside and inside of Babette's car. It hit me like a ton of bricks; I broke down crying and bowed my head between my legs.