In Our Hearts, We Must Carry On

She found him, unsurprisingly, at the vacant lot, alone. The black clouds in the distance mirrored Cherry’s inner turmoil perfectly. The vacant lot was littered with beer cans, cigarette butts, and an old football lay abandoned in the tall grass. Cherry grimaced as she saw a used condom lying among the debris. Dallas was leaning against a red T-Bird, smoking, unbothered by the impending storm or the dirtiness of the lot. She was again, impressed at how cool he looked in a leather jacket. She could see him squint slightly, a look of confusing marring his face briefly before his face settled into its typical unreadable expression. Her jaw clenched and she took a deep breath as she pulled up next to the car and got out, standing mere feet away from him, quickly smoothing her tartan skirt out. The thunder rolled.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” he grinned wolfishly, echoing the words he spoke the other night. Her stomach twisted into knots. “Couldn’t get enough, huh?” She rolled her eyes at that.

“You left your jacket,” she snapped.

“Sure,” he smirked, taking another drag on the cigarette. She tossed the denim jacket at him. It hit him squarely in the chest before dropping to the dirt. His eyes danced, but whether dangerously or not, she couldn’t tell. He stubbed the cigarette out before picking up his clothing. He tossed the jacket on the passenger seat before settling back against the car. She leaned on her own car, arms crossed, feet firmly planted shoulder-width apart. She couldn’t bear to let him see how rattled she was.

“That it?” A nervous energy had developed between the two, evidenced by her chewing the inside of her lip, and his fingers fumbling slightly as he picked out another cigarette. Thunder clapped not too far away and a streak of white lightning filled the sky. Cherry felt hot and cold all at once.

“Well?” He pressed, looking at her as if she’d grown two heads. She chewed her cheek a little more and jumped as the roar of thunder indicated its close presence. He opened his mouth to speak again.
“You lookin’ for another round or what?”

“In your dreams.” Her voice came out shakily, a mere whisper. His brow furrowed as he took a close look.

“Hey, you feelin’ okay?” Her face burned red; this wasn’t how she wanted to tell him.

“I feel like a defective typewriter,” she laughed mirthlessly. At his questioning look (and did she see a hint of fear there?) she elaborated. “I missed a period.” She tried to match his cool, bored tone. Her faltering voice affirmed her real feeling of the situation; though her body language tried so hard to show she didn’t care. His lips parted in shock and his eyes went wide. His cigarette hung from his lower lip.

“What?”

She laughed humorlessly again. “Like you’ve never dealt with this before.” He shook his head wordlessly, shock still etched all over his face. It was Cherry’s turn to be surprised. They stared at each other uncomfortably for a few minutes, the bright lightening causing them to wince.

“W-“ he cleared his throat, “What’s gonna…”

“I’m taking care of it,” she said. “My cousin sent me the name of a doctor almost an hour from here who’ll do the procedure.” He nodded, lips still parted slightly.

“When’s the appointment?”

“Two and a half weeks.”

He nodded again. “Okay. When do you want me to be there? How much is it?” She didn’t think he could surprise her even more.

“N- no that’s not why I’m here. I can take care of it.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I just… I just wanted to give you your jacket. I just wanted you to know, I guess.”

“Dally!” A voice sounded off in the distance. He quickly looked back, raising a hand in greeting.

“Gimme a minute!” He hollered back at the figure. “Sorry,” he said, turning back to Cherry. She shook her head.

“So? What time? How much?”

“Don’t worry about the money. No sweat.” A brief look over anger flashed across his face and she knew what he was thinking- she assumed he didn’t have the money.

“It’s not that,” she started quickly. “I just have to do it on my own.” He nodded, not fully understanding, but not willing to argue much longer.

“At least let me take you,” he asked. “I’ve heard about this thing, you’re not supposed to go alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” she waved him off. He was beginning to realize how strong she was; terrified and willing to go through something like this alone. It was actually a little frustrating trying to get her to open up, but he liked the challenge.

“Damnit, Cherry!” Her eyes went wide with surprise. “Just let me do this. This is about both of us, now. I can’t abandon you like this. That’s not me.” The clouds opened up and started pouring rain. She smiled slightly, shouting to be heard.

“It’s at 9 AM. We’ll have to leave at 8.”

He grinned and her heart jumped. She smiled, tightlipped, before walking to the driver’s side of her car.

“Hey!” She turned back towards him. “Catch!” His denim jacket came sailing through the sky, waterlogged before it even got to her. She caught it, staring at it for a few seconds before smiling at him, a real smile. They slid into the seats of their respective cars at the same time, and Cherry waited for him to lead the way out of the lot, which was getting muddy quickly. He turned left, towards the Curtis house, and she turned right. She caught sight of his hand hanging out the window, his fingers moving in a subtle kind of wave, and couldn’t help the sigh that escaped from her lips.

At dinner, Cherry was able to contribute enough to the chatter that no one suspected a thing, but her mind was really elsewhere. As she lay in bed that night, she looked at her dark closet, where the jacket hung to dry, and made a mental note to hide it in the morning; her mother loved to snoop. Not too long after, the rain pounding on her roof quelled her thoughts enough to allow her to start to drift off to sleep.



There was no pain, just a pool of bright red blood forming in her white cotton panties. She was slightly disappointed, but only because the underwear had been ruined.

“This is it,” she thought. “Maybe it’s passing on its own and I don’t have to go in.” A twisted sense of glee rose up in her as she scrounged around her bathroom for something to stop the flow. She couldn’t bring herself to think of the embryo as a “baby,” just an “it.” Things were easier that way.

Like so many days before, she found herself on her bedroom floor, scrounging around for the familiar piece of clothing. She clutched the denim closely to her, as if the fabric was the only thing keeping her here; her last remaining grip on reality. She and Dally had kept in touch but only to firm up plans for the next week. In 7 short days she would be in a cold room, on a hard operating table, going through with a huge, serious procedure, and no one knew. She hated keeping it a secret but she couldn’t trust Marcia to keep it a secret from Randy and Bob.

Bob had seemingly taken the hunt that she wasn’t interested, or so she thought, until she had woken up to a big bouquet waiting for her on her desk when she woke up. She had a feeling they weren’t from Dally and outwardly groaned when she read the card. Her mother had apparently read the card as well and was absolutely beside herself trying to figure out why Cherry “wouldn’t give that sweet, handsome boy another chance.” At first glance, Mrs. Valance was different from other mothers they knew in that she actually cared for her kids, but only to stop any less-than-ideal scenarios that would oust her as a perfect parent. In reality, Cherry’s parents were as removed as anyone else. She giggled at the thought of what her parents would say if they really knew what their kids were up to.

She bet an unwanted teen pregnancy was the last thing her mother expected.