AVA

Bea taps vengefully at the keyboard, making disgusted faces at the screen. I try to ignore her as I shuffle around the room, kicking stubbornly at boxes, trying to imagine how this is ever going to accommodate a couple of babies.

Can babies sleep in bunk beds? Can they sleep together? This room is so small, I can’t believe I’m paying for two bedrooms. It’s basically a closet, with another closet in it.

Babies. Oh my gosh. Every time I say that to myself, I freak out just a little bit.

“Okay, what the hell is a breast pump?” Bea sneers. “Aren’t your breasts big enough already, right now? They’re scary big, Ava. Terrifying.”

I can’t help but glance down, and she’s got a point. My breasts are ginormous, verging on absurd. The rest of me hasn’t caught up yet, even though I’ve gotten a little bit thicker. But in comparison to the boobs, my belly hasn’t really gotten significantly bigger.

“A breast pump is for storing milk. You pump it out, not pump the breasts up.”

“Milk?” she raises an eyebrow at me.

“Breast milk,” I explain. “Did you not pay attention at all in healthcare class? Any of those women’s studies classes cover this at all?”

“Women studies has absolutely nothing to do with actual women stuff, I’ll have you know,” she informs me archly. “Mostly we talked about the patriarchy.”

“Well, that’s messed up,” I sigh, considering a mural on this wall. Babies like murals, right?

“You’re telling me. Okay… a changing table? One or two?”

“Zero. Mom says changing tables are a waste of space. And babies can fall off of them. I’ll just use the bed or floor or something.”

“Well, that’s terrifying,” she scowls, stabbing at the keyboard again.

“What website are you on, anyway?” I ask, suddenly curious.

“Craigslist,” she says distractedly. “How about a racecar bed? Is it too soon to get one of those? Those are cool.”

“Hold on. I am not buying anything for my babies on Craigslist, okay? Everybody on there’s just a scammer anyway, trying to get you to a parking lot to sell you drugs or bash you over the head and steal your purse.”

Her eyes widen and she snaps the laptop closed. “Well, I did not know that. You learn something new every day, I guess.”

“If you’re lucky,” I quip.

Raising my arms, I turn in a half circle. What do I really, really need in here anyway? Crib? Dresser? Baby stuff can’t possibly take up that much room.

In fact, I could live in here and give them my room. If I have to have two cribs, the bigger space would really come in handy.

“Hey, maybe your mom still has some of your baby stuff. Did you ask her?” Bea suggests helpfully.

“Oh… that’s a really good idea. Yeah, let me just text her. I could probably run up this weekend and—”

“And what?”

My breath is caught in my throat. I stare at the face of my cell phone, beginning to tremble.

“Ava? You okay? Are you in labor?”

I can’t answer her. I’m still trying to make sense of the alert on the front of my phone. It’s an email for my mother. Just the first fifteen words, but it’s enough.

“Ava?” she says again, carefully reaching for my phone. She takes it from my hand and glances at the front. “Oh my God.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“You can’t kill him. You’ll go to jail! You’ve got babies on the way!”

I barely hear her as I rush to the living room, snatching my bag off the table and swooping out the door. I’m all nerves, filled with a bright crimson fog that blots out every thought as it starts to boil to the surface.

When I arrive at Ethan’s condo, he’s sprawled on his sofa, headset in his ear, talking at the ceiling about something or somebody in Malaysia, how he’s leveraging something or other. He holds up one finger and smiles when he sees me, silently asking me to wait.

I glare at him, almost boiling over.

“Yeah, Digger? I’m gonna have to get back to you,” he mutters carefully, squinting at me like I’m a bomb that might go off. “Just shoot me an email with the details. We will work it out.”

Plucking the headphone from his ear he stands up, with his hands out. “Now, Ava, I want you to think really carefully about whatever it is you want say to me. You know I would only do what I thought was best for—”

“You told them!” I spit out, trembling so hard I think I’m going to fall over. “You went behind my back and you told them!”

He takes a step toward me, but I take a step back. There are at least three things within arm’s length that I could throw at him, so I hope he doesn’t try to get any closer. I really don’t.

“You said, remember? You said it couldn’t stay like this, Ava. You’re right. It couldn’t stay a big secret like that. Something had to be done.”

“But they’re my parents! It wasn’t up to you!”

“But you weren’t doing it,” he explains helplessly, holding his hands out.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Now you don’t have to be ready. That’s good, right? It’s done. The Band-Aid is ripped off. The worst is over!”

The room seems to be getting smaller. Everything falls into a tunnel, with him at the end of it and blackness all around. I can barely breathe, I’m choking on so much emotion.

“Now there’s nobody!” I manage to spit out. “I thought I could trust you, Ethan! Even after everything I know about you… I thought I could trust you!”

He looks hurt, his brow knotting in the middle.

“You can trust me,” he objects quietly.

“How could you?!”

“Ava, wait,” he says in a small voice. I see the apology on his face, but at this point I can’t care anymore.

“Just stay away from me, Ethan. Just stay away.”

“Ava, you know I can’t do that.”

I point at him, stabbing at the air. “Actually, yes you can!” I yell, letting my voice get as loud as I can. “You just keep away from me, stay away from all of us. You want visitation, take us to court! Just give me a little bit of child support… just a little bit! Just enough to get by. That’s all I want from you, you understand me? That’s it!”

He shakes his head. “No. No way! You can’t do this.”

“I cannot believe I fell for you, Ethan!” I howl, letting the scarlet anger just pour out of me. “I can’t believe I let you jerk me around with that phony proposal, all this bullshit about us being together with our babies. I actually wanted to believe you meant it! I cannot believe how stupid I was!”

“That’s not stupid. That’s how I—”

“Don’t call me! Don’t text me. Don’t contact anyone in my family ever again!”

“Wait, no!” he blurts out, lunging toward me. “You can’t do this!”

“It’s done!” I practically scream, turning on my heel and almost running back to the elevator. The doors open immediately and I fling myself inside, turning around to see his face just before the doors close again.

I’ll never forget that look. Half anger, half fear. Remorse. Maybe a little shame. Actual emotions on his actual face, how ironic. I finally see what he is really made of, and I can’t stand it.