Chapter Five
Tabitha
“YOU SHOULD WEAR A DRESS. Jeans are so booooring.” Beth snubs her nose at my outfit.
I look down at my jeans with knee-high black leather riding boots and a black T-shirt. “I thought I look good. Plus, I’ll be comfortable.”
“You look unapproachable. Nobody wears a messy bun to a frat party, Tabs.” She reaches for my hair.
I lean my head back. “I am unapproachable, and so are you.”
“At least put your hair down.” She puffs out her bottom lip, trying to work her pouty magic on me, but I’m immune after years of exposure.
“No.”
“Ugh! Fine.” She frowns in defeat. She reaches over to the jewelry box on her desk and pulls out a string of chunky glittery teal green and lavender beads. “Wear this so you look like you at least tried.”
I roll my eyes but comply. I take the beads and drop them carefully over my head, making sure they don’t get snagged in my hair. I wave my hands up and down over my chest, asking her if she’s satisfied without using any actual words. She gives me a triumphant smile, then turns to finish applying her makeup.
I’m only wearing two coats of mascara and a little lip gloss, but I’ve never actually needed a lot of makeup. It’s just not my style to coat on a lot of makeup, or fuss too much over my hair. Beth is my exact opposite, however. Tonight, she’s in a really short, flowy, light blue halter top dress and knee-high gladiator sandals. Her long brown hair is straightened down her back, and her makeup is being contoured on. She looks photoshoot ready. The way she does her hair makes her look airbrushed, and her naturally tanned skin and dark hair make her deep blue eyes pop. If she wasn’t dating John, I bet she could date any guy she wanted at this school.
Surprisingly neither one of us has been hit on too much in the last month since fall semester started. I’m not trying to come across as vain, but that’s an odd thing for either of us. It doesn’t really bother me, but Beth seems to spend more time than she already does on the way she looks before leaving our room every day. It’s like she needs to be noticed as the prettiest girl on campus.
Tonight we are going to our first frat party. We’ve been invited to a couple dorm room get-togethers, but tonight is supposed to be a huge ordeal, and I guess only select people get invited to these things. I always thought that anyone could show up, like in the movies, but I guess that’s not actually the case.
Beth finally finishes getting ready after almost two hours, and we head out the door to find Steve walking down the hall toward our door. Beth told him to wait outside forty-five minutes earlier when he started complaining that she was taking too long. It must have hit the time limit that takes his patience with it, because his usual goofy, fun-loving demeanor is gone. He now looks beyond irritated.
“I know. I’m sorry, okay?” Beth apologizes, but the tone of her voice is taunting instead of regretful.
I run up and wrap my hand in the crook of his elbow and bat my eyes up at him. “Ready to go pick up some drunk chicks?” I ask in an excited voice, and it has the intended effect.
Steve’s mouth turns up into a grin, and he leans down to kiss the top of my head. “You always know how to charm the beasts.”
“Beast is definitely a good word to describe you,” Beth kids, but Steve sends her a little frown.
“You don’t get the nice words right now,” he scolds, and it makes both of us giggle.
She runs up to his other side and gives him one of her signature pouts, and he instantly softens and hugs her against his other side. I may be immune, but there isn’t a single guy on this planet that can resist Beth when she flashes those little pouty lips in their direction. If Beth had a superpower, her pout would definitely be it.
We all crawl into Steve’s truck and head a few blocks away toward the fraternity house throwing the party. The house is packed, so much so that it looks like people are being vomited out of the doors and all over the front lawn. It’s a definite fire hazard, but Beth spent too long getting ready that we are determined to attend this thing. We have to park two more blocks away and end up having to walk almost the exact same distance we would have walked if we were to walk from the dorms.
We show the guy at the door our invites on our phones, and then we pay for our cups to get in. Steve makes a beeline for the keg, and Beth spots one of the guys who invited us, so she ditches me at the door. My head pounds with an incoming headache, so I go in search of a corner to lean against until I can get it to go away, because all the seats are buried under more than they really should be holding. I find a corner near the back of the house that is fortunately far enough away from the music that is pounding throughout the house and also happens to have an open window nearby.
I close my eyes and take in as much fresh air as I can from the breeze filtering in through the window and try to calm my headache that has quickly morphed into nausea. I feel car sick. This is the exact opposite of what I hoped my headache would go. I try to do some shallow to deep breathing exercises, hoping it’ll make me feel a little better, because Beth and Steve are going to be upset if they have to leave so early to take me home.
“Hey, gorgeous, I didn’t think I would see you here tonight,” Troy, a guy from my Algebra class, says as he slides up next to me.
He leans against the wall, blocking my view from the rest of the room and invading every last inch of my personal space. His breath smells like stale beer, which means he’s been drinking for a while, and it’s making my stomach turn even more aggressively. I try to push the feeling down, so I can respond politely.
I force myself to smile up at him. “Yeah, I was invited with my best friend, so we decided to come check it out.”
“I’m totally digging the plain little nerd girl look you having going on tonight,” he slurs, while gesturing up and down at my outfit.
It makes me instantly regret being polite a minute earlier. I dart my eyes around to signal that I’m not interested and hope to catch a glimpse of either Steve or Beth so they could come to my rescue. I fail miserably, because then Troy leans down closer. His breath paints across my face, and it becomes too much for my poor stomach to take. Suddenly everything I had for lunch makes a reappearance. I puke all over Troy, and all over the inside of his cup, that he still continues to hold, despite the onslaught of regurgitated taco salad hitting him.
“Motherfucker!” he curses. His face is so red with anger that it’s almost purple, as he finally tosses his cup down to the ground. Vomity beer hits the side of my boot. It’s surprisingly the only place on me that got hit. “Somebody come get this drunk bitch out of here!” he shouts, and some guy comes and escorts me out of the room and out the front door.
“Next time learn your limit,” he grumbles as he ditches me on the front step and walks back inside. I text Beth and Steve and tell them I’m walking home alone, because I was feeling sick. They argue that they should leave and we should all drive home together, but I convince them I am fine and that they should stay and have fun. They reluctantly agree, and I head toward the dorms. The fresh air must have been the answer, because I’m feeling completely fine now.
There’s a twenty-four-hour pharmacy a block out of the way, so I decide to stop in and get some Tums or Pepto Bismol just in case I feel sick again. I walk into the store, and the fluorescent lights flicker...the place is deadly silent in that creepy sort of way in scary movies, before the big bad creeper pops out of nowhere and snags their prey. I know I’m being irrational, but it still puts me a little on edge.
I quickly grab both medicines and rush toward the cashier when I pass the condom aisle and stop. I got sick completely out of the blue. I felt amazing on the way to the party, and I didn’t drink anything, so it wasn’t because I had drunk too much. I pull out my phone and look at my calendar.
Well, crap…
I should have started my period two weeks ago.
I’m two weeks late.
Oh shit!
I grab a test off the shelf and bring all my items up to the counter to pay. I leave the store and walk back to the dorm in a daze. I’m starting to feel sick again, but this time I know it’s because of nerves. I make my way up to the room and walk myself all the way down to the bathrooms.
I walk into one of the stalls, pull down my jeans, and pull the box out of the plastic bag. I got one of the tests that say “Pregnant” or “Not Pregnant,” because I’m not capable of trying to decipher the lines, color patterns, or dots that any of the other tests would try to use to tell me my results. I need a straightforward answer right now.
I pull the stick out of the box, remove the cap, and stick it down between my legs and wait for the pee to come. I start to go, and I hold it under for the allotted amount of time, then I pull it out, and replace the little cap. I set it on the toilet paper dispenser and I clean up and pull my jeans back up. I got some pee on my hand, so I step out, making sure to grab the stick and the plastic bag as I exit the stall. I set it all on the counter so I can wash my hands.
I had pee on my hand, so I never checked the start time, so I guess it’d been about thirty seconds. I wait two and a half more minutes anxiously. When the time passes I peak down at my result, and it’s the wrong answer I was hoping for right now. The word “Pregnant” flashes across the little gray screen, and tears fall timidly down my face.
I hold it together the best I can, as I walk all the way back to mine and Beth’s room. I unlock the door and let myself in. Once the door is closed and I am alone, with now possibility that someone else would walk in and see me, I drop the bag and the stick to the floor at my feet. With my back pressed against the door, I slide my way down until my butt also hits the floor. I hug my knees to my chest and sob. I cry hard. It’s ugly, and it lasts for hours. When Beth finally makes it home, she finds me in the same spot on the floor, after having to squeeze her way into the room from a crack in the door that barely let her fit through. I couldn’t move.
She was about to complain, until her eyes spotted the pregnancy test on the floor.
“Oh no, sweetie,” she whispers after picking it up and reading the results.
She helps me take off my clothes and boots, leads me up into my bed, and then tucks me in. There are tears falling down her face that match my own. She sobers immediately and strips down to her bra and panties. She doesn’t bother putting on pajamas. She climbs up into my bed behind me, wraps her arms around me, and holds me until we both fall asleep.
The next morning we get up, and we drive over to the student medical clinic on campus, and it’s confirmed.
I’m pregnant.