Chapter Twenty-Three

Avery

It’s hilarious that the instructions say “Wait five minutes”. It takes less than thirty seconds before the plus sign pops up in neon-bright magenta inside the little plastic window of the pregnancy test. Amazing that you can dribble pee on a plastic stick, and a few minutes later, the entire course of your life as you imagined it takes a hard left turn.

I walk out of the bathroom, plastic stick in hand. I wave it at Ella.

“Ella. I think there’s something you might want to see.” I sit down in one of the chairs across from her and put the pregnancy test on her table.

She’s buried in the report, her eyes as big around as saucers. She ignores the evidence in my hand as she looks up from the papers and says, “Girl, your mother and father are evil. Walking, talking, fire-breathing, evil mofo’s.”

I know.

I slide the stick towards her. “You’re exactly right, Elle. And there’s this.”

I didn’t think her eyes could get any wider, but she surprises me.

“Oh shit.”

That’s one way to put it.

“It won’t take my parents long to find me,” I say, ignoring the blaring plus sign for now. “My cell phone account is in their name. They’ll pull some strings, search my call log, track it to you, then track my GPS. It’s a matter of hours, not days. I need to move on, or become their Stepford spawn. And they’ll have try to control this, too.” I gesture to the test and look at Ella with wide, frightened eyes.

“Fuck that,” Ella says defiantly. “Fuck that altogether.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Does Maddox know?”

“No,” I say. “He doesn’t.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Yes. But — I have no idea where he is. He just disappeared.”

“What are your parents going to do to you?”

“I don’t know,” I say flatly. “I’m not sure what they’re capable of.” I swallow bile, and I put my hand to my belly, as if protecting the fluttering life inside of me. “Especially when they figure out I know about the stalker shit.”

“They won’t hurt you, will they?”

“No.” I pause. “I’m not entirely sure. I don’t think so. But I really don’t know what they’re going to do with Maddox. I can’t reach him. He’s just … gone.” I swallow hard, choking back emotion. “With me — they — I don’t think they’ll let me keep this baby.” My words barely come when I say it, and tears stream down my cheeks. “And I want this baby, Ella.”

“I don’t think they can force you to — you know.”

“I’m not sure what they think they can do,” I respond. “They had me beat up to garner sympathy from their voters. They can freeze my trust. Stop payments on my apartment.”

“Well, I have a plan,” Ella says. “It’s not much of one. But it is something. I have a car, and it’s a piece of shit, but you can make it to Vancouver. I’ve got a friend at the border who can get you across. You just need a burner phone, and I’ll give you my passport. It’s an old ass picture. Looks enough like you to pass. And hang on —”

Ella sighs and scrolls through her phone. She pulls up a number on her cell and waits while it rings. When the call is answered she starts talking fast.

“Aunt Bebe. It’s Ella. I need a favor. It’s for Avery. You said if she ever… Yeah. She needs us… Yeah… Bebe… She needs to be away from here, way out of her parents reach… And there’s more...”

I listen as Ella details my sordid family situation. It all sounds so much worse off of the paper. I have no idea what my parents have done with Maddox. I’m not sure what they’re up to with my stalker — and I don’t want to wait around to find out.

Ella presses a piece of paper into my hand. “This is Aunt Bebe’s number. You can stay with her when you get to Vancouver.”

I look at her and nod. “It’ll be good to get out of dodge. I’ll withdraw whatever cash I can get from my account.” I smile weakly. “I like Vancouver.”

I try Maddox’s phone again, and send an email to a defunct account of his, hinting at where to find out more information. I note to myself that it might not even be wise to have a burner phone, and instead I opt just to take only my laptop and a bag of clothes.

No, I don’t know what my parents might do.

I only know they’ll do everything in their power to control my body, this pregnancy, and this kid.

And I’m fucking done with every part of their bullshit.

I tuck the evidence away in my backpack, and I start making a mental list of any media outlet and political blog that might be interested in what my mother and father have been up to.

An hour later I’m driving alone in Elle’s beat up, ancient Honda Civic hatchback, feeling only slightly nauseous. I’m headed north – to Vancouver. It’s a long drive ahead of me, but I have to do it. I have to put as much distance between me and my sociopath parents as I can. They were willing to risk hurting me, their only child, for their ambition. I let them control and intimidate me. But I will not let them put this baby inside me at risk. This child is not theirs to screw with and use. This kid – if I have anything to say about it – is going to know what unconditional, no-strings-attached, love really is. I’m not going to let my parents and their ruthlessness damage another soul.

I drive across the Golden Gate Bridge and head north, through the redwoods, past the black sand beaches and the breweries and the sketchy hippie towns. After that, there’s only mountains and highway and an endless expanse of coastline.

Maddox — if he’s alive — he’ll find me.

And for once, I’m hoping he does.