I Was Only Dreaming

I looked swiftly from the phone to the bedroom door, and suddenly, I was no longer in my room. I was on a beach. A white, sandy beach with a dark blue sky and still waters. I guess I'm dreaming? Im not im my leggings and band shirt, but in a white lacey dress that comes down just above my knees. It had a v-neck and spaghetti straps. It was far too girly for me, but I knew Mike would like it.

I look around the beach in my dream before hearing a heavenly voice call my name. I turn and find myself looking at my mother. She looks like she did the night she died, not having aged a day. Her dress is exactly like mine, except in black. Her wavy auburn hair falls just below her shoulders, and her grey eyes look as though they're smoldering with the make up she's wearing. I immediately run into her arms as Mom hugs me back, and I feel tears start to rush down my fave.

"Sh... don't cry, Darling. I'm here for you." She speaks in a soothing tone. I sniffle back my tears, swiping my mascara away from my eyes.

All I can think about Is one thing. "Why did you leave? When I needed you, when you promised you'd always be there for me, why did you leave?"

Mom sighs very slowly, her hands on my shoulders. "Jess, it wasn't my decision to go. I didn't have a choice. I'm so very sorry I left you to your father and Patricia. But look how it turned out. You have a man who cares enough about you to take care of you and your baby when your boyfriend cannot. I would say you got the better end of the deal."

I was astonished. My mother, the mother that I know, would never say that to me. "You're gonna tell me that? I love Mike, and I always will. Billie is... I don't really know. He's the father of my baby, an and we both made a huge mistake. I lost the one person in the world that I loved and you're saying I got the better end of the deal? I just wish this hadn't happened." I turn away from Dream-Mom, and start walking away from her.

"You wish it never happened, huh?" Mom says in an accusing voice. "Alright, it never happened. You got your wish."

Then I wake up. The phone by my bed is off the hook, and I have a gritty feeling in my mouth and a weird feeling in my underwear.

*Tre's POV*

After flipping between channels for awhile, I hear Jessie practically scream my name from upstairs. I run up the stairs and into her room, where I see her standing by the side of the bed, clutching her stomach. I rush to Jessie's side, puzzled about what's going on. She's breathing heavily, and looks like she's about to fall over.

"Tre, move your ASS, get me to the hospital! The damn baby is comin- ahh!"
Then she fell over into my arms, and I luckily caught her and helped her downstairs and into my car. Billie was still at work, I think, and I knew Mike was too much of a bitch to come to the hospital if I called him. So I stuffed Jess in the backseat, and told her to breathe in the "hoo-hoo-ha-ha" way I saw in some movie. I could be good at this stuff.

I drove to the hospital, speeding as much as possible with the speed limit being 50, and drove into the emergency section, all the while trying to keep Crazy Preggo Lady calm. The doctor took Jessie somewhere and told me to wait in the waiting room. So, I took the oppertunity to call Billie. I tried his cell phone, apartment, Gilman, and even Ollie's place, where Mike still lived. No one had seen Billie. So, I broke down and called Mike, even though I'm sure someone would kill me. He answered after the first ring to his cell.
"Sup, man?" Mike greeted in the melancholy voice he had spoken in ever since Billie and Jessie moved out.
"Dude, you gotta get down to the hospital-"

"What the fuck did you break, Tre?" Mike cut me off.

"No, man, it's Jessie, she-" But Mike again, cut me off.

"I'll be right there," And then he hung up on my ear. That tell you something, right there.

*Mike's POV*

I drove from the gas station, where I worked, about half a mile to the hospital. If I remember correctly, Jessie's due in about a week and a half. I still care about her, in fact, whenever I see Billie, I ask about her. She doesn't come to school all that often, and when she does, I do my best to ignore her. Forgetting is so hard; now I know how Billie felt.

If you're wondering whether or not I still love Jessie, the answer is yes. I love her to the point where it's a mental disease. I've always loved her, and I don't think I can ever stop loving her. It's like, the first time that girl gets in your brain, you just can't get her out.

As soon as I got to the hospital, I found Tre in the waiting room for the maternity ward waiting room, eating a bag pf Cheetos. He stood up and walked over to me.

"Is she okay? What happened? Where's Billie?" I asked, watching nurses pass by, hoping one of them would notice me and give me more answers than Tre could.

"Relax, man, she's fine. The nurses said something about, like not dialated yet, or something, said that everything is going well so far, y'know, stuff like that," Tre shoved a few Cheetos into his mouth. "What some?"

I shook my head. "I'm good. Have you called Billie?"

"Yeah, But I can't find him. I don't know where the hell he is. Jessie said he was at work, so I came over, but she went to sleep, and the next thing I knew she was screaming and yelling at me to take her here, so I did." At that moment, the man himself walked in. He still had his apron on from the bed and breakfast.

"Ollie called me, said Tre left a message on her machine. She's parking the car, is everything okay?"

Tre wasn't able to answer, because a nurse came and asked the three of us which one is the father. I had imagined being asked that question a million times for the first few months Jessie was pregnant. And I always imagined saying that it was me.

"I am," Billie said. "Is everything okay?" Billie had that look of genuine worry, like the world was coming to an end.

"Your girlfriend's gonna just fine. But if you'll come with me, please, you're gonna wanna see this," The nurse smiled at Billie and led him down the hall. Yeah, yeah, I had imagined that being me.

Ollie came and sat with the two of us. She assured us about "modern medicine", and "the stuff kids are taught in college", and a lot of shit like that. But we waited for around seven hours before someone came and told us anything. The same nurse that took Billie came back and said that Jessie's eight pound, five ounce, baby girl was born at 9:27, just a little over ten minutes ago.

"The two are perfectly healthy, but I can't say the same for Mr. Armstrong, though," The nurse joked.

Tre gave me a big bear hug, and even attempted to pick me up, which didn't do much good for a tray of clean instruments in the aisle. Jackie, the nurse, said we could all see Jessie and the baby tomorrow, as visiting hours were over, and they were both very tired. So Tre took Ollie home, but I waited to see when Billie would come out.

*Billie's POV*

"How about Samantha? Or, Caroline, or Pat-, no, no, Oh, I don't know how to name a kid, what do you think?" I am sitting next to Jessie's bed, where she's holding her little girl. She's so tiny and precious that I refused to hold her, for fear that I might break the poor thing. She had soft, blonde hair and deep, jade eyes that made her look like the girl version of me.

"I like Samantha. Samantha Ryan... Armstrong," Jessie said, staring into my eyes.

"Are you sure about the Armstrong part? It can be Tatum, if you want, or, hell, even Pritchard. That would make Mike give a fuck," I say in reply. I like the idea of Armstrong, but only if Jessie wants it.

"Billie, I don't want to be ashamed that Sammy is yours. I'm not afraid of what people will think, or say. Hell, this Rodeo, not some uptown Manhatten neighborhood where if you wear the wrong perfume you're shunned from the social group. I love our baby, and I want everyone in the world to know that you are her father." Jessie cupped my face with her free hand and pulled me closer to her. Then she kissed me, full on the lips, not with desire or passion, but of...genuine love, maybe? Caring, kindness, gratefulness? This woman was purely impossible to figure out, and she had trouble following her all over the place. She was a mess. But, to me, she's my mess.