Bottom of the Blackest Hole

“Hello? Is this,” I paused to look at the wrinkled name on my napkin, “Josh um, A-Anderson?” I squinted on the writing to make sure it was right. When Courtney finally convinced me to call him, I went on a search to look for his number. It wasn’t that hard, actually. I found it under my bed.

“This is him speaking,” the deep voice drawled. I mentally smacked myself. Of course it was him. Who else would it be?

“Oh, um, right then. Uh, this is…this is…Bailey Beth.” I said, hoping that he won’t remember so that I could just hang up.

“Bailey…Bailey, that name sounds really familiar. Hmm…,” there was a couple of seconds pause, “Oh! Hi! Wow, it’s been a couple of weeks now! How’re you?”

“I’ve been okay, I guess. Look, I have something to tell you. It’s really, really important. Can we meet somewhere?” I asked desperately. Say no. Please say no.

“Of course! Would you like to come to my place or yours?” he said enthusiastically.

“Actually, I was thinking somewhere public. Um, how about Starbucks? On Fifth Street?”

“Yeah. Sure. It’s just across the street from my place,” he said.

“Great. Can you make it today? Around six-ish?”

“Of course. I’ll see you then?”

“Yes.”

I hung up and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Now, how was I going to break the news to him?

--

I fidgeted in my seat as I wait anxiously for the store door to open and reveal Josh. I shivered involuntarily as the door open, letting in the chilly air of mid-January in. Have you ever noticed that Starbucks are always so cold? Even in the winter it is.

“Are you Bailey Beth?” I heard a voice from above me. I looked up to face with big brown eyes. The man was staring curiously down at me.

I put my mouth in a straight line and nodded, ruffling my brown wavy hair along and causing my bangs to go on my eyes. I tucked the loose hair back behind my ear.

“Do you want to order something, first?” I asked politely. Stalling time, of course.

“Sure,” the moment he said that a red-head waitress skipped over to our table. She threw Josh a flirtatious smile, which he kindly returned back, and gave me a strained smile and a look over. When she was satisfied that I wasn’t anything special, she turned back to Josh. He gave her a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at their little eye flirting thing. Oh well. I’m not that exotic anyways. I was wearing my To Write Love on Her Arms white shirt with a long black sleeve underneath. My old skinny jeans were tugged inside my furry boots. The coat and scarf I bought along was hung carelessly on the back of my chair. My hair was let loose and I didn’t have any make up on. Just as long as I’m warm and not freezing to death, I’m happy.

When they were done having their own conversation, the waitress walked away, making sure to strut her butt side from side. Josh chuckled lightly at her exit and turned his attention back to me.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” he asked and stared intently at me.

“Um, yeah,” I took a deep breath.

“I’m pregnant.” I closed my eyes tightly for a reaction. The reaction was not what I was expecting.

“Oh, well, congratulations!” he yelled.

“Um, thank you?”

“So who’s the father?” he asked curiously. Did he seriously just ask that?

I turned my poker face on and looked at him, “You.”

“Pardon?” his eyebrows furrowed together.

I chuckled nervously. “Yeah…,” I stared at my hands on my lap as I spoke, “Look, I know this is very big but I just wanted to tell you. It seriously is no big deal…actually it is but I can take care of the baby by myself. There are tons of single moms out there.” I murmured.

“Wow,” he mouthed out, “Are you, um, sure the baby’s uh, mine?”

I stared at him, “Of course. I’m positive.”

There was a moment of silence until he broke it.

“So, I’m just going to put it out there since you did too,” he started as I raised a questioning eyebrow at him, “Look, you could drop the act about being pregnant. I know what kind of woman you are.”

“You do?” I asked.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “Just drop the fucking act already!” he hissed.

I widened my eyes. “W-what are you talking about?”

“I am not in the mood for this. If you really are pregnant, I’m sure it’s not mine. You’re probably just some cheap slut sleeping with some random guy trying to get up the food chain. I’ll tell you this, don’t mess with me. Just because I slept with you for one night it doesn’t mean anything! Just because I chose to sleep with you instead of other girls that came up to me doesn’t mean anything!” he yelled, slamming his fist down the table.

It brought attention to us but then again, the moment he walked in the store, the attention was already on us.

I abruptly got up from my seat, glaring at him.

“I don’t know who you think you are. You can’t just go calling people like that! Especially ones you don’t even know! Y-you bastard!” I felt the urge to hit him across the face but fought it. Instead, I snatched my bag, coat, and scarf, put them on and turned to the exit.

I swear I just saw a flash of a camera but I brushed the thought off, along with an angry tear that fell down my eyes. His words terribly reminded me of my father's.

And it stung.