An Unexpected Twist
Tarin
Tarin
(Six days later, Sunday)
I was at home with Amy. We were just hanging out and reading magazines while listening to country music. “Hey Amy,” I said. “um, I have something to tell you. I really need some help.” She looked concerned.
“What”s up?” she asked.
“Um, I, uh You know how I’ve been having those stomach aches but only in the morning?”
“Yeah.” She answered, by the look on her face, I could tell she knew what was coming.
“Well, I’m like two weeks late for my period, and I don’t know what to do.” I said. She sighed.
“Alright. Did you use protection?” She asked. I think the answer was obvious.
“No.” I said quietly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t.” She said. “We all make mistakes, but you have to take a pregnancy test now.” She stood up, grabbed her keys and we left.
Positive. That little pink motherfucker. A cute teensy plus sign that was going to ruin my life. Unmarried, working a crappy part time job, twenty-three, and pregnant. I didn’t know what else to do except call my mother.
My mom was sixteen when she had me. I guess our family really doesn’t think twice before having sex. My mom told me she was going to drive up here right now. She lived about an hour away.
When she got here she gave me a big hug. “Oh Tarin, honey, I thought you knew better.” She said. “I just want you to know that I love you and that everything will be okay.”
“Thanks mommy.” I said. I sat down on the couch next to Amy. My mom sat in the chair diagonal to us.
“Please tell me you know who the father is.” Said my mom.
“Yeah.” I said. I knew exactly who the father was. We had gone for coffee twice and lunch one just this week. We were even going to go out again this weekend.
“When are you planning on telling him?” Amy and I looked at each other. How exactly do you tell a professional hockey player whose career is just flourishing that you are pregnant with his child? “Oh my god. He’s not a criminal or druggie? Is he?”
“Try professional athlete.” I moaned.
(Six days later, Sunday)
I was at home with Amy. We were just hanging out and reading magazines while listening to country music. “Hey Amy,” I said. “um, I have something to tell you. I really need some help.” She looked concerned.
“What”s up?” she asked.
“Um, I, uh You know how I’ve been having those stomach aches but only in the morning?”
“Yeah.” She answered, by the look on her face, I could tell she knew what was coming.
“Well, I’m like two weeks late for my period, and I don’t know what to do.” I said. She sighed.
“Alright. Did you use protection?” She asked. I think the answer was obvious.
“No.” I said quietly. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t.” She said. “We all make mistakes, but you have to take a pregnancy test now.” She stood up, grabbed her keys and we left.
Positive. That little pink motherfucker. A cute teensy plus sign that was going to ruin my life. Unmarried, working a crappy part time job, twenty-three, and pregnant. I didn’t know what else to do except call my mother.
My mom was sixteen when she had me. I guess our family really doesn’t think twice before having sex. My mom told me she was going to drive up here right now. She lived about an hour away.
When she got here she gave me a big hug. “Oh Tarin, honey, I thought you knew better.” She said. “I just want you to know that I love you and that everything will be okay.”
“Thanks mommy.” I said. I sat down on the couch next to Amy. My mom sat in the chair diagonal to us.
“Please tell me you know who the father is.” Said my mom.
“Yeah.” I said. I knew exactly who the father was. We had gone for coffee twice and lunch one just this week. We were even going to go out again this weekend.
“When are you planning on telling him?” Amy and I looked at each other. How exactly do you tell a professional hockey player whose career is just flourishing that you are pregnant with his child? “Oh my god. He’s not a criminal or druggie? Is he?”
“Try professional athlete.” I moaned.