Chapter 18
9-1-1
I ran into Ruby walking to class the day after the dinner party. My guard immediately went up, but she acted as though nothing had happened the night before. “What the deal with you and Kellen?”
“There’s no deal with us. Why do you ask?”
“I don’t know. Last night it just seemed like there was something going on between you two.” Ruby’s conversational tone was starting to make me feel like the fight with Erica last night was all yet another dream. “I noticed he never elimidated you. And he came to your defense pretty easily when Erica was upset.”
“We’re best friends.” The words rolled off my tongue as if I were in middle school and had to justify our relationship. “We were best friends,” I corrected myself.
“Still…” Ruby said as she opened the door to the lecture hall.
Erica was not in class. “She probably went over to Bacon’s last night after she left your place,” Ruby stage whispered from across the table.
The answering machine blinked with three messages when I got home. Two were from James. The last one stated that he was going to quit calling me if I didn’t return his call today.
The third was from Denny. “Tammy, I realize that you probably won’t be able to work here next summer, so I wrote you a letter of recommendation. It’s really important that you pick it up in person.”
That’s weird, I thought as I erased the message. At least he spared me the awkward conversation of me having a summer internship instead of working at camp. It was nice of him to write me a recommendation letter, but why couldn’t he send it through the mail? The camp was only 45 minutes away from my campus, but I wasn’t exactly champing at the bit to go back there.
Later I came back from the library to find more giant boxes outside my apartment. My futon had been delivered. This time I put it together myself.
I never called James back. My life was complicated enough without adding him to the mix. I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to fix my friendship with Erica, but if I decided I did, surely me dating James would not help our reconciliation.
I arrived at the Writing building the next morning as if it were a regular Tuesday. I could feel my face heat up when I entered the room. I considered not sitting at our regular table, but wasn’t sure if I’d been making the fight with Erica more of a big deal than it actually was. Deep down I was pissed at my supposed friend, but not angry enough that I’d have been forced to branch out and meet new people. Erica must have felt the same way because she sat in her usual seat without a word.
At 8:30, a girl I recognized from the table adjacent to ours rushed into the room. I thought maybe she’d dropped eggs on her floor or walked out of the apartment wearing two different shoes when she announced to the room that the reason she’d been late was because “a plane had hit the Twin Towers.” When she was met with blank stares, the girl sat in her seat with a huff. Hobart seemed unimpressed as she documented something in her notebook before resuming her lecture on feature writing. Class continued as usual until around 9:30 when the department head suddenly appeared at the doorway.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he cleared his throat and seemed to struggle to find the words to continue. “It seems that the University has decided to cancel class today, due to the—” his voice broke. “Unexpected tragedy.”
Erica rose from the table. “What tragedy?”
“I told you,” the late girl adjacent to our table declared as she also stood up. “It’s terrorists, I tell you!”
“It’s 9-1-1.” Ruby disclosed softly as she gathered up her notebook and pens.
“What?” I asked. “Should we call 911?”
“No. It’s September 11. 9-1-1.” Ruby repeated.
“Is the world going to end?” Erica looked at me, animosity forgotten.
I shrugged, feeling fear rise in my chest.
Hobart stood as composed as ever at her dais. “Class, we are done for today. I encourage you to go home and watch the news stories. When inspiration strikes, make sure to write down your thoughts and feelings. This would be the time, more than ever, that the American public would need strong science writers to take an unbiased stand, giving just the facts.”
I disagreed with Hobart the moment I got home and turned on the TV. By that time, both of the towers had fallen. Facts, my ass. What the American public, much like me, wanted was consolation. Consolation that a) the world wasn’t actually ending and b) that no one they knew was in those towers or anywhere near what they were now calling “Ground Zero”, and c) those rescue workers on the scene weren’t risking their lives in vain. There was a time and a place to write third person narratives and there was a different calling for writing straight-from-the-hip reassurances that all you knew wasn’t complete bullshit, that some vendetta between world leaders wasn’t a cause to kill thousands of people.
I shut the TV off, tears in my eyes. I went into my bedroom and closed all the blinds, intent on hiding from the world. I went to sleep for a long time, dreaming once again of Kellen, that he was in one of the towers that fell. I woke up sweaty and confused. Relief at being safe in my bed quickly turned to sorrow as I recalled the earlier events of the day. I’d been awake for only ten minutes and was boiling a kettle of water for tea on my stove when Kellen appeared outside the screen door of my apartment.
“Got anything stronger?” he asked as he opened the door.
I looked at him helplessly, feeling as if I couldn’t even properly boil a cup of tea, let alone make a drink.
“I’ve got some whiskey in my apartment. I’ll be right back.”
Don’t go, I wanted to say to him. As much as I wanted to hide away a few hours ago, now all I wanted was to not be alone. But I held my tongue in anticipation of the soothing comfort the alcohol would provide.
Sure enough, he reappeared a few minutes later with a full bottle of Jim Beam. He poured us each a handle and added a tea bag and hot water before bringing both cups to the living room. He flicked on the TV and then turned to me. “Do you mind?”
I shrugged. “I think I might have seen enough to last me forever at this point.”
“My father’s base company is out of the North Tower,” Kellen stated as a shot of one of the towers falling replayed on the news, the newscaster’s narrative carrying an undercurrent of fear. “Was out of the North Tower, I guess.”
“Was he…”
“No. He’s in Ann Arbor this week.”
I knew that Kellen’s parents were often out of town, but I don’t think I ever learned what they actually did. I opened my mouth to ask another question, but Kellen had stood up and was now in front of my DVD collection.
“There’s only one movie we could watch right now,” he said.
“Return of the Jedi,” I said at the same time he said, “Empire Strike Back.”
“No,” I said resolutely before I began coughing, the whiskey burning its way down my chest. “Empire is too sad. We need some serious pick-me-up. Jedi has the best ending”
“Okay, you’re right,” Kellen conceded. “But we have to watch the VCR version so we can see the Ewok yup-yup scene at the end.”
We curled up on either end of my new futon, the quilt my mother had sent me and the familiarity of one of my favorite movies giving me the feeling of home despite the chaos that was happening outside my apartment.
“Have you called Corrie?” I asked when the movie had ended.
“I tried.” Kellen said, sounding as if it were the last thing he wanted to talk about, excluding the end of the world, of course. “I got her voice-mail.”
“I’m sure she’s fine.”
“Me too. If there’s one thing to say about Corrie, it’s that she’s resourceful.”
“Right.” I felt as if I should be more concerned about my sister, about my family. Isn’t that what one does when faced with senseless tragedy? But for some reason, the only thing I could focus on was the fact my former best friend had chosen to spend this momentous day, no matter how tragic, with me, watching one of our favorite movies.
The whiskey, harsh and burning at first, went down faster and faster as the September day turned into evening.
“What now?” Kellen asked as the credits from Jedi faded.
I glanced over at him, realizing that both of us feared the news coming back on. “How about If Lucy Fell?” I suggested it because it was one of my other favorite movies, starring Sarah Jessica Parker, and not because the premise was about two best friends that fall in love with each other.
“Sure, whatever.” Kellen was game, but as the movie wore on, and Joe and Lucy’s relationship began to change, I became more and more uncomfortable. I don’t have feelings for you, I wanted to announce to him. But I knew if I said it, I’d be lying to both him and myself.
Kellen chuckled at the same parts I did. Was it just me or was he scooting closer to me on the couch? When Sarah Jessica Parker’s character asked, “Is it because you’re in love with me?” I glanced once again at Kellen only to see him staring back at me. Our lips met and his hand reached up to stroke my hair. Without a word, he got up from the couch and led me into the bedroom.
When he entered me, I gasped. I wasn’t exactly experienced, but Kellen felt very different from Joshua. He rocked against me for a moment, filling me with unexpected pleasure, before rolling over so that I was on top of him. I moved my hips against him, increasingly harder, as if to drown out the voices of the day, to drown out the pictures on the news. I sat up higher, pleased to see Kellen’s eyes widen. I rocked harder until it felt as if something exploded inside of me. Expletives left my mouth as if I were suddenly possessed. We were both breathing hard. Exhaustion, combined with something else I couldn’t quite define, began to set in as my breathing calmed. As I laid next to Kellen, he put his arm around me. “Tammy,” he breathed.
“I’ll be right back,” I told him, picking myself off the bed carefully. In the bathroom, I allowed my whiskey-inebriated self to ask what had just happened. My high-school self would have given anything to end up with Kellen in her bed—despite the fact that she never would have contemplated that Kellen would have given her what I now realized had been my first orgasm. Yet I somehow felt it was all wrong. I was still hung up on Joshua, and Kellen was in love with my twin sister. I blamed it on September 11th. Lots of people had woken up that morning never expecting the catastrophe that was to come. Although I was mercifully unscathed in most ways, I would carry the scar of 9-1-1 nonetheless.
When I came back, he was still lying the same way, stark naked, the sheets thrown off of him. “Do you want—”
I wasn’t sure if he was going to offer to finish the movie, turn on the news, or go at it again, but I told him, “Let’s go to sleep.”
When I woke up the next morning, Kellen was in the kitchen clad only in his boxer shorts. “Good morning,” he said cheerfully.
“Morning,” I said, reaching past him to grab a mug from the cabinet. I could feel him staring at me, but I carefully avoided meeting his eyes. My hands shook as I poured the coffee.
“Classes are cancelled today,” Kellen said as he handed me the milk carton. “Do you want to do something?”
All I wanted to do was escape from this awkward situation. Former best friend or not, I should have never slept with my sister’s ex-boyfriend. Now he was in my kitchen, making himself at home. I don’t even take milk in my coffee. But Corrie does. “No, I actually have to drive to camp today,” I told him, realizing Denny’s strange request was the perfect excuse to get away.
“Are you sure it’s safe to leave the campus?”
I shrugged. “I figure anywhere in Michigan is probably safe. I doubt our state is high on the terrorist hit list.”
“Let me come with you.”
“No.” The word came out more vehemently than I meant it to. “It’s okay,” I attempted to soften my tone.
“You sure?” Kellen turned to me, worry in his green eyes.
I nodded. “I should get going. I also need to go to the library to do some research.” I didn’t really, but it was a good excuse to not have to deal with the situation later this afternoon, either.
“Okay,” he said, resignation in his voice as he headed into the bedroom. He reappeared a few moments later fully dressed. “I guess I’ll see you around, then?” This time I turned to meet his eyes. His gaze went deep, as if he were trying to read my inner thoughts.
I turned to grab a to-go cup before he could see the apprehension running through my head.
Running away, I thought as I got settled in my car. I’m running away from Kellen. In the same way I ran away from James. Maybe Craig too. And Adam. Running from any hint of relationship, using Joshua as an excuse to not get close to anyone. I wondered when I’d ever be able to handle another chance at love.
I opened up the slim envelope that contained my CDs and selected Aerosmith’s Big Ones. When I hit the open road, “Living on the Edge” began to play. I turned the volume up to full blast. I might have been running away, but it started to feel good. It helped that, despite the grim circumstances yesterday, the weather that day was perfect, sunny but not too hot, a touch of fall in the air. If our country could overcome the terror of yesterday, I’d be able to overcome my fear of a relationship. Someday.
In truth, Kellen would have been the perfect boyfriend. I was as certain of that as I’d been ten years ago. However, I also knew there was no possible way I could be with Kellen. What would happen when I brought him home? It wouldn’t be like my dream, with Kellen seamlessly meshing into the family again, this time as my boyfriend instead of Corrie’s. Drew would be confused, and my parents would side with Corrie, who would be understandably angry. No, Kellen was wrong, all wrong. But somewhere in the world there might be another Kellen. Or another Joshua. Somewhere in the world was the perfect guy for me.
My optimism lasted until I parked and shut off the car. The once-familiar campgrounds now seemed empty and desolate. I was hit with memories of Joshua so suddenly that it felt as though I’d been punched in the gut. The night Shazzer drove us home, I thought as I exited the parking lot. The volleyball game when he first flirted with me as I walked across the field in front of the main office. In the distance I caught sight of the cabin where Joshua and I had made love for the first time.
Luckily the main office itself held no sentimental value. “Hello?” I called as the screen door slammed. Half of the room was taken up by the L-shaped reception desk, accessed by a small swinging door in the corner. No one manned it. In fact, the room was practically empty, with no sign of Denny anywhere. The only other person was sitting in the far corner, his back turned toward me.
Great, even that guy reminds me of Joshua… But—my heart began to pound as I caught sight of the tattoo on his arm. Heaven. Or Pig.
As he turned toward me, I could have sworn the barbell over his eyebrow glimmered when it caught the sunlight.
“Joshua,” I breathed. The silence that followed seemed to stretch forever. I blinked, wondering if the light streaming in through the bay window had obscured my vision and it wasn’t actually him.
But when he finally spoke, the accent was both alien and achingly familiar at the same time. “Tammy.” Instead of getting up to embrace me, he seemed to be glued to his chair.
“Why—” I couldn’t gather my thoughts to finish the sentence. My emotions swung from elation at seeing him again, to bewilderment that he actually was sitting behind the camp desk, to anger that he didn’t care to inform me that he was back. After what seemed like another hour of silence, I cleared my throat, determined to imitate his indifference. “Is Denny here?”
“No.”
“Really?” I tried to catch his glance, but he refused to meet my eye, reminding me of the awkward scene in my kitchen that morning. “He said he had a letter of reference for me. He told me to come any time.”
Joshua frowned. “That’s strange. He’s on a recruiting tour for the next few days.” My heart quickened as he finally came closer. Business-like, he began to sort through the pile of paperwork on the side of the desk. “I don’t see one. And he didn’t say anything about it to me.”
“Never mind.” I wanted to stop him from shuffling the papers and just look at me. “Somehow I don’t think there ever was a letter.”
“Tammy.” Joshua finally met my gaze. “I wanted to call you so many times.”
“Why didn’t you?” I had to fight to keep the sob out of my voice.
He stretched out his hands. “Well, I didn’t have your new number, for one.”
“Bullshit.” I could feel the anger win out. I wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt me. “Denny found it. It’s not that hard.”
“You’re right. It’s because I didn’t know what to say.”
“How about: I’m sorry for running up your phone bill? For ditching you? For ruining your life?” The last part barely came out as my throat closed over. Tears sprang to my eyes as the anger died down as soon as it had emerged. “Well, this has been nice, Joshua. We haven’t seen each other for almost a year, and you don’t even know what to say.”
“Tammy.” I wished he’d stop saying my name. Last summer he’d spoken it with love. Now it came out as if the word had a bitter taste. He didn’t even bother to come out from behind that stupid desk. “You cut your hair.”
“Yes.” He looked almost the same, if a bit more haggard. The shirt he wore was unfamiliar and there were dark circles under his eyes. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. I wasn’t going to stand there and try to make awkward small talk. “Why did you come back?”
“I needed to get away.” I felt as though he’d purposely left out saying he needed me.
“Were you here all summer?” I pictured him hooking up with some other unsuspecting virgin counselor while I toiled away in grad school.
“No. I just arrived a few weeks ago.”
“Right.” There didn’t seem to be any reply to that. “Just tell Denny I was here,” I told him before I fled, the screen door slamming behind me in finality.
I was onto the main road when I finally allowed the tears to fall. How could he be so cruel? So heartless? I’d thought about him every day he’d been gone, making imaginary deals with my psycho guardian angel, promising to go along with anything he (she?) could throw at me if only I could see Joshua again. And, after all that time, that horrible scene was how it played out. As if my guardian angel was playing yet another trick, “Crying” started playing.
I hit the NEXT button on the stereo as my eyes, blurred with tears, caught a movement in front of me. “Shit!” I shouted as I slammed on the brakes. I managed to bring the car to a stop at what seemed like millimeters away from a deer, who stood as if plastered to the road. “Go!” I shouted at it, honking my horn. It finally took off, but my nerves were shot. I pulled to the side of the road and turned off the car. I began to sob hysterically. I could have been killed. Just like those thousands of people that woke up yesterday to not be alive to go to bed that evening. Life really was too short. I thought about all of the lonely nights I’d had the past year. My whole life had been one giant stint of loneliness, save for the few months Joshua had been in it. I don’t want to be alone anymore, I thought as I started the engine again.
This time when I drove back to camp, I didn’t pause to take in any of the familiar sights. I marched directly to the office, letting the door shut slowly behind me.
“Tammy?” Joshua’s words were no longer bitter but wondrous.
“I’m back. And I have some more things I need to say to you.”
“Me too.”
I folded my arms in front of my chest, thinking that nothing he could say could melt the ice wall around my heart. “You first.”
Joshua finally lifted that stupid partition and came over to stand in front of me. “My father killed himself last year.”
“Oh, Joshua.” I dropped my arms, suddenly realizing that this past year had been all about what Joshua had done to me. I never put much thought into what could have happened to him. “I’m so sorry.”
“Me too.” He touched my hair. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I’m sorry I was so selfish.” I glanced into his bi-colored eyes. “But I could have been there for whatever you were going through. You just needed to let me in.”
“I couldn’t deal with the complications of a long-distance relationship on top of everything else. I knew I couldn’t give you what you needed.” His voice gained a bitter edge. “I couldn’t give my dad what he needed, either.”
“That’s not your fault, Joshua.” I grabbed his hand. “You can’t blame yourself for your father’s actions.” I could feel energy radiate from his hand. It brought me back to those summer days when our relationship was just budding and simply holding hands was a big deal for me.
He nodded. He dropped my hand, his gaze falling to my left. “He didn’t want to deal with the pain. The note he left said that this was better for us all—that we could remember him as being strong instead of seeing his body wrecked by cancer. Mom didn’t agree.” His voice cracked. “I don’t either. He wasn’t strong—it was a shit way to die.”
I wiped my eyes. With every day that had passed without me hearing from him, I had grown a little more bitter, stacked another brick in the wall surrounding my heart. But now that wall seemed to be crumbling, the anger dissipating, the bitterness disappearing. “What can I do?”
He finally pulled me to him and embraced me. “Don’t leave. Just don’t leave.”
So I stayed. We remained locked together for what seemed like hours, until Joshua spoke at last. “Do you want to go for coffee?”
“Coffee?” I had been lost, as if in a dream, with my head on Joshua’s chest, and the words sounded like gibberish at first. I grasped for a reply that made sense. “Aren’t you working?”
Joshua dropped his embrace and stepped back. “Denny’s not here. And even if he was, something tells me he wouldn’t mind.”
I squinted my eyes. I’d dreamt of that moment for so long that it seemed unreal. “I might need something stronger than coffee at this point,” I finally replied.
“The maintenance guy gave me some homemade whiskey. It’s back at Hill House.” Hill House, where the camp admin had slept the summer we were in love. But since camp was over, Joshua had the house all to himself.
My heart sped up as I remembered what had happened after I’d drank whiskey last night with Kellen. I shoved that thought away: the mistake I’d made was even more pronounced now that Joshua was back.
We walked side by side up the hill in silence. I was again brought back to those days when Joshua had been my boyfriend. “I’ve never been in here,” I told him when we’d stepped inside the house. Our crew of counselors was more of the down-the-hill type. Middle managers like Ferg and Katie were the ones stationed here during the summer.
He grinned sheepishly at me and I wondered if he too were recalling the nights we spent in his cabin, particularly that very special one at the end of the summer. He led me to the tiny kitchen in the back of the house. I took a seat at the table as he grabbed two mismatched coffee mugs and poured the contents of a glass bottle into them. “I have to warn you, Tammy, this stuff is strong.” He took the seat next to me.
My heart was still hammering at double time, whether from the deer encounter, Joshua’s nearness, or both. “That’s okay.” I took a long slug of whiskey. It burned all the way down my throat.
Joshua watched, wide-eyed, as I set the empty cup down on the table. “Same old Tammy,” he remarked.
“Some things don’t change.”
He grabbed the bottle from the counter behind him and poured me some more whiskey. “So you know what I was dealing with all last year. What have you been up to?”
I filled him in on my last year at E-C and the start of grad school. While I was talking, my mind wondered whether this conversation was the beginning of a new friendship or a continuation of our former relationship. Hoping for the latter, I purposely left out any mention of guys, Kellen included.
As if sensing the parts I omitted, Joshua asked if I was seeing anyone serious.
I didn’t want to tell him about all the lonely nights I’d spent crying myself to sleep or all of the random boys I made out with. I didn’t tell him that I had never wanted another relationship if it wasn’t with him. Of all the times I pictured finally seeing Joshua again, I didn’t realize how vulnerable I’d feel, not knowing what Joshua’s motives were.
He raised his eyebrow and I realized I hadn’t replied to his inquiry about my boyfriend.
“No,” I said finally.
His face seemed to brighten. “Me neither.” He reached for my hand across the table and I felt a tingle that spread from my arm down to my toes.
The whiskey spoke for me. “You should know that I still love you.”
“I still love you, too,” he replied, his voice cracking. “I love you so much.” He leaned in slowly. As our lips met, I shut my eyes, partly to hold back more tears, and partly to block the memories of how hard it had been without him. He slipped his arms back around me, pulling me in tighter. We kissed for a good twenty minutes, pausing only for one of us to declare our love for the other or to restate how sorry we were about the past year.
Finally Joshua took my hand and led me out of the kitchen and up to his bedroom, where we tore each other’s clothes off. I laid down on the bed, naked, trying to shut out the vision of doing the same thing with Kellen last night. My final thought before Joshua entered me was that Kellen would have to understand. Life really does change in an instant.
As the afternoon turned into evening, we made love another time. We fell into a deep, whiskey/love making induced sleep. I hadn’t slept that soundly in over a year. Joshua woke me up the next morning with soft kisses on my belly. We made love one more time and then I forced myself to climb out of his bed.
“Don’t go,” he said afterward as I gathered up my clothing.
I went to the bed and kissed him on the lips. “I have class. But I’ll be back tonight.”
“Promise?” He grasped my hand.
I squeezed back. “I’m not going to leave you.”
“I won’t leave you either. Ever again.”
As I drove back to campus at high speed, I prayed I wouldn’t hit any deer, but thinking if I did, at least I would have had a contribution to the roadkill report.
When I’d returned to the Village to grab a few things after class, my psycho guardian angel made sure that I ran into Kellen in the hall. My mind raced for a way to break the news gently to him, but Kellen’s body language made me think better of it. “Where’ve you been?” he asked, an accusatory tone to his voice. “I waited around all day yesterday for you to come home.”
I decided to just come out with it. “Joshua’s back.”
“Is he?” Kellen took in a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Me neither,” I conceded, angling to move past him. “But he is.”
“And…”
“We’re back together.” As I reached my door, I turned back toward him.
“I got it, Tammy.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “I take it you don’t want to talk about what happened between us.”
I put my key in the lock. “Do we need to?”
“I guess not. Good luck, Tammy.”
I glanced at his retreating back, feeling sorry about the angry tone I’d employed.
As if he too wanted to make amends, Kellen turned to face me. I opened my mouth to apologize, but Kellen spoke first. “For the record, Joshua’s not good enough for you, either.”
The anger had not only returned to the surface, it boiled over. “I suppose you think you are!” I shouted. But this time he didn’t turn around.
Kellen drew himself out of my life much the way I disengaged from our relationship in high school. But that was the only blight in an otherwise perfect fall. Joshua and I spent almost every night together. It was as if we feared one night away from each other would turn into another year. During the week, Joshua would usually drive to campus in the evening and then take my car in the morning to go back to camp.
Hobart scheduled me for a few phone interviews with prestigious science magazines. I must have done quite well—two of them wanted personal interviews and offered to fly me out in the beginning of the new year. I made appointments for both, one in San Francisco, and one in Boston. Both offered to pay for my flight and hotel during the interview process. My heart was leaning toward the San Fran magazine, simply because it fulfilled Joshua’s dream of living in California.
Erica and I managed to salvage our relationship once she heard that Joshua had returned. She must have decided I was no longer a threat to her and Bacon—or any other guy she tried to meet during one of their off times. We remained friendly if not friends, sitting together in classes as though the tiff between us had never occurred.
One Friday morning shortly before Halloween, she commented that my boobs were looking fantastic. “New bra?”
“No. Just happy, I guess.”
“Happiness extends to your cleavage?”
“Apparently,” I said absentmindedly as Hobart waltzed to her lectern. Come to think of it, my boobs were quite sore. I flipped through my planner, thinking that an impending period might be the explanation for my heaving chest. That meant Joshua and I would have to halt our usual weekend activity of wine and sex. Hobart began lecturing on the importance of meshing with your readers. But I had stopped listening, my face growing hot as my fingers raced through my planner, counting the weeks since my last period. I was always bad at keeping track, blaming it on an irregular cycle. My best guess was that I had it back when Erica wanted me to get together with Craig. But not since. I flipped to September again, as though if I turned enough pages, the missing period would suddenly reappear. Joshua and I had sex almost every night after I learned he was back. Which meant I hadn’t had my period for at least six weeks. Shit, shit, shit.
“Erica,” I hissed. “I have to borrow your car after class.”
“Why?” she mouthed.
“Joshua has mine. I have to go to the drug store.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“No,” I said loudly. Hobart looked over. Erica narrowed her eyes. I finally mouthed “Okay,” to her after Hobart found a new target to glare at.
“You have to take one of those?” Erica asked when I picked up the slim box.
“Just for precaution.”
Erica shrugged. “It happens. I’ve taken three since June. You’re probably just late.”
“Yeah. I’m super irregular.”
“Do you want me to hang at your apartment while you take it?”
“Nah,” I replied.
She dropped me off at my building just as Kellen was exiting. I patted the plastic bag further down in my purse as he passed by. He nodded at me but didn’t say anything.
I knew enough from researching my reproductive paper that the highest chance to get pregnant would have been two weeks after my last period. The best I could figure was that would have been around September 11th. Right when Kellen and I slept together. Right before Joshua and I starting having sex on a regular basis.
“Please, no,” I begged my psycho guardian angel aloud after I’d peed on the stick. “Please don’t let this be my fate. I have a writing career to think about. And,” I squeezed my eyes shut before whispering, “I don’t want to be that girl who doesn’t know who the father is.” I’d watched enough Jerry Springer in college to know who those types of girls were. They weren’t girls that came from good families, with good career prospects, with good boyfriends that may or may not be the father. But as usual, my psycho guardian angel paid no heed: it was positive. I was pregnant.
THE END