Andre

 

The sound of the magazine pages is almost soothing as I flip through them. There’s an article in it that Will wrote a while back about bike safety in the snow, but I can’t find it. I grumble under my breath about poor communication and directions when I hear Kristel’s footsteps. With a deep breath, I lower the magazine and look at her. If I can describe her in one word, it’stired. She looks absolutely exhausted as she makes her way over to the couch. When she sits down, there is some distance between us. I don’t try to get closer. Too many boundaries have been pushed and pulled today, and it’s barely 8 a.m. Hell, I’m still in my boxers from last night.

 

“You okay?” I watch her with reserved concern.

 

“I think so, yes. You?”

 

She sounds awkward, but I believe she’s sincere. Maybe. “Fine.” There’s a long moment of silence, and I watch her carefully. “Do you still want to talk about the baby?”

 

“Yes.” She pushes hair over one of her shoulders and tilts her face to watch me. “Do you?”

 

“Yeah.” My legs curl up underneath me, and I get comfortable. “Is this throwing up thing new? I’ve never seen you do that before.” I clasp my hands in my lap and lean heavier against the couch.

 

“Kind of. Just when I’m stressed. Like when I had dinner with my parents and… everything that happened here.”

 

The silence stretches on for what seems like many minutes. When I can’t stand it anymore, I look her in the eyes and say what’s been on my mind for days: “I think you should keep the baby.” She looks startled at my admission. “I don’t know how it will work yet, but I don’t think you should get an abortion.”

 

“Andre…” Her voice is soft. “It’s barely been –”

 

“It’s been a few days.” My voice is firm enough to make her stop talking. “And your dad being a cop, well… we’ll deal with that when we have to.”

 

She stares at me in confusion. “Just a few hours ago you were screaming at me at the top of your lungs because my dad is a cop. You haven’t stopped going on about it since I told you. And now, suddenly, you’re okay with it?”

 

I feel my temper shift within me, and I run both hands down my face; the last thing I want right now is another fight. “I know. I have a temper that gets away from me sometimes. I was worried about the club and the implications that your father could have on them if he ever found out about… us. Am I pissed you didn’t tell me about your dad before I let you join? Yes. But I’ll get over it, because I have to.”

 

“Oh… you have a temper.Ya think? My ears are still ringing.”

 

A smirk touches my mouth. “I bet that’s not the only thing still ringing, is it?” She gives me a glare, and I let out a soft chuckle. “Kristel, come on. You slapped me. Scratched me. And I understand why you were upset, but that’s why we’re here. That’s why you came, isn’t it? To figure shit out?”

 

Her eyes narrow even further. “You better wipe that smirk off your face, Andre Zelnick… it’s not funny.” One of her hands moves to rest against her stomach. I want to reach out and touch her there, too.

 

“Let me get this straight. I get mad at you about your dad, you get pissed at me. I stop getting mad at you about your dad, you get pissed at me. Is there some kind of happy medium that I’m missing here?” My arms fold across my chest, and I lift both of my eyebrows at her. I want to do the right thing for all three of us, but she’s not making that easy.

 

“Yes. The ‘happy medium’ is the place you go that’s actuallyyou. At least when you were screaming at me I knew you were being real. Now, I have no idea. Are you saying these things just to make all of this go away faster? Are you saying them so we can kiss and make up, and forget all of this happened?”

 

“Don’t do this, Kristel.” I look away from her and let out a huff.

 

“I want thetruth! You at least owe me that!”

 

“All right! Fine! I don’t want you to keep the baby!”

 

Silence extends between us, and she looks at me as though I’ve just murdered one of her closest family members. “Why?” Her voice is very soft.

 

“Because…” I look away and push fingers through my hair. “This baby will compromise everything: you, the club… us. If you have this baby, it’ll be putting all of us in danger. It will bring your parents closer. It will bring your dad closer. Hell, they might even want you to move in with them, I don’t know.”

 

“And if it brings us together in a positive way? Have you thought about that?”

 

“Yes. A lot.” I hold my hands out toward her. “It’s your body. I’m not telling you to get rid of it. I’m just saying… maybe it’s not the right time. Are you ever ready for a child? For that kind of commitment? What about your school? The Black Knights?”

 

She shakes her head at me and stands up. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but the expression on her face isn’t good. “I shouldn’t have come here.” Big breaths are making her breasts rise and fall visibly, but for the first time I’m looking at her and not them. There are no more tears on her face, and her eyes aren’t glittering. If anything, she looks almost numb.

 

Very slowly, I get to my feet. I keep some distance between us and try to think of what to say. Even as she pulls out her phone, I know she’s going to call a cab. “Wait. Don’t. Just… wait.”

 

“For what? You made your point, Andre. You don’t want the baby. You can’t help me anymore.”

 

I groan inwardly; why do women have to be so dramatic? “Fuck… Kristel! Why are you doing this? Why won’t you let me help you? Just… put the phone down. We can talk about this.” I know I’m fucking things up, but I have no idea what to do. I’m completely lost. “This is all new to me, too! Like I said before, there aren’t any right answers. Just… different ones.”

 

She points a rigid finger at me, and I stare down it to her hand. “You’ve said your piece! I thought you were helping me in the bathroom. Fuck, Andre, you were even sweet. But you’re just in this for yourself. I get that now.”

 

“No. I’m thinking about the Black Knights. They’re my responsibility. And you’re part of that!”

 

She laughs at me, but there’s no humor in it. “Wow… so now I’myour responsibility?”

 

“What? No…” I throw my hands in the air and look up toward the ceiling. “Fuck… stop twisting my words around! You keep acting as though I’m the bad guy or something!”

 

“That’s because, right now, you are.” Her lips are pressed together as her jaw is tight as she turns on her heel and storms out the front door. It slams so hard the whole front of the house shakes.

 

“Fucking hell!” I clench one of my fists and slam it down onto the table in front of me. Then I kick the same table and send it tumbling onto its side. The violence feels good, so I get to my feet and turn to the couch. With a frustrated snarl, I grab it by the back and yank it down. It flips over, legs in the air. The floor shakes and a small table nearby collapses. I stride over to the entertainment system and rip the TV to the floor. The screen shatters on impact, and cords go flying. The DVD player and gaming consoles come next, and within moments the entire cabinet comes crashing to the floor.

 

“Jesus, fuck!!” I kick at the wall next to me, and a bunch of pictures fall off. With a growl and a hiss, I start slamming my fists into the wall I just kicked. I hit it again and again, and the pain invigorates me. Each time my knuckles make contact with the solid surface, hot flashes of adrenaline scream at me to hit even harder the next time. When my hands start to go numb, my feet go for the wall again. I kick it hard until the wood begins to soften and give. There’s blood all over the wall where I hit it, but I’m far more damaged.

 

“Fuck…” I speak softer this time as the pain starts to make itself known. My body shakes with the kind of rage that’s gotten me into trouble before. It’s the kind of anger that takes over my mind and won’t let me think about anything else.

 

I strike the wall one last time and lean into it. Once more I hit it, and then again. My forehead rests against its hard surface, but I find no comfort in it. It’s cold and solid, not warm and soft. I realize, as I lean there with my hands bloody and broken, that losing Kristel is an unacceptable option for me. I don’t want to admit how much she means to me; it’s easier to ignore it.

 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit…” I whisper to myself over and over again, repeating the word as though it’s going to help me. My eyes close, and I take in deep breaths as my body rests heavily against the wall. A large part of me wants to go outside and see if Kristel is okay, but the rest of me just wants to go back into my room and fall asleep. If she wants to keep the baby and do it all without me, that’s her damn problem.

 

Then again, what if she sells me out to her parents? It will be better to keep her close regardless of what she wants. I push back away from the wall and look toward the door. My brain is conflicted with feelings between caring about Kristel and caring about the club. Maybe Grant is right.

 

I am doomed.