Trigger warnings: pregnancy test, self-induced abortion858Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡQTWLJ00che
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Mark hadn’t come home from Mila’s party at eleven P.M. like he promised.
It was too nosy of Christy to worry, as it was his life, but his absence gave her a sense of déjà vu. She thought back to the Ava era, consisting of nights when Christy and Mom called his cell and brought up the time to each other every twenty minutes. He’d probably be on a date with Ava or out with her druggie gang in random places. Or he’d be hammered at a party full of people a lot older than him.
Nowadays there was no way Mark and Ava were hanging out again. Before the surprise set-up at Cucina Mia, Christy had already met with the young single mother clearly having no interest in Mark, so Christy wasn’t worried about Ava screwing him up anymore. Mark, on the other hand, should’ve been insanely awkward and intimidated by Christy enough to leave Paige’s side in the feud, but he got closure and became happy instead.
She was simply trying to get him at least pissed, which he sort of was, but when he thanked her afterwards for inviting Ava over, she realized she’d been too harsh. For a meeting so important, she should’ve at least told him ahead of time, as he would’ve needed to emotionally prepare himself. He’d always made such a big deal about Ava, which Christy couldn’t blame him for since Ava was an adult that took his virginity. He could fall in love as hard as he could get hurt.
He was way too sensitive and vulnerable for his own good, but that was just who he was.
And that was why he needed to be protected, particularly from Paige. She might’ve already seen how gullible he was and flirted with him until she got him wrapped around her finger.
Dave’s text in the morning confirmed that Paige was at Mila’s party last night. In the empty dining room of her new house, Christy took a sip of coffee and glared at the floor. What if Paige already took her luring tactics to the next level? Had she drugged him and taken advantage of him? That slut most likely knew how to manipulate weak guys like him.
Familiar, heavy footsteps descended the stairs and sounded in the hallway, until Christy looked up to see Mark entering the dining room. In a white T-shirt and blue shorts, he rubbed his eyes and yawned as he walked toward the kitchen.
“How was the party?” Christy asked in a nonchalant voice.
“It was fun.” In the kitchen, he bent down to retrieve a cup from a moving box, then poured crushed coffee beans into the cup.
She decided to get straight to the point. “Did you hook up with her?”
His hand pausing on the faucet, he sucked in a sharp breath. She got him.
She crossed her arms. “So you did.”
As he filled the kettle with water, he said, “I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”
Christy stood up. “Paige! Who else would I be talking about?”
He slammed the kettle on the counter and turned to her. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe Ava?”
“I’m more worried about Paige who might be screwing you up!”
“Who I let screw me is none of your business!”
“And so is you being a part of this fucking fight!”
“I don’t even care about this fight anymore. Me and Paige are together, so deal with it.”
She stepped toward him. “Um, have you not heard that she’s a heartbreaker? She’s just one of those bitches that keep hurting you again and again. Like Ava! Do you want a repeat of Ava?”
His eyes on the floor, he took a long breath before looking back up at her. “She’s nothing like Ava.”
“Sure, Paige is younger, but she fucking uses and drops guys every week! And Carter said there’s that STD thing, as if we didn’t already know how fucking filthy she is. You’re such a fucking idiot!”
His eyes started glistening. “I thought you were against me this whole time, and all of a sudden you’re lecturing me like you’re my mom?” He shook his head.
“At least I care. I know you stopped caring about me when you started fucking that ginger!”
He took the kettle and started boiling the water, then turned to her. “I do care about you.”
“No you don’t.”
“Have you heard from anyone at the party?”
Christy shook her head. “Don’t change the subject.”
“Have you?” he repeated.
She leaned her hip against the kitchen counter as she thought back to Dave’s text confirming that Paige was at the party, but she didn’t get any other texts. “No.”
He ran his hand through his dark curls. “Carter’s hooking up with Colette.”
“What?” she almost yelled. “You’re just making that up!”
He shook his head, his expression serious. “She broke up with Andrew and slept with Carter last night. I saw them going upstairs, and they left the party together.”
Christy threw her hands up. “Bullshit! You’re just trying to piss me off.”
As she picked up her coffee and stomped toward the hallway, he called, “Carter’s a prick and you know it!”
Huffing, she said nothing and went upstairs to her new room. After slamming the door closed and locking it, she felt her eyes start to burn, but she didn’t let the tears come out. She stalked to the bed and dug through her backpack until she found a pregnancy test kit.
It was almost noon, so she had to get to the first Grease rehearsal soon. She decided she’d do the test after rehearsal, since if she got the more likely result, it would ruin the good impression she needed to make to everyone. Plus she wanted to be bitter enough around Paige, per usual.
She buried the box in the bottom of her backpack with the other test kit so that they were hidden from plain sight, then she put on the backpack.
He couldn’t have been cheating. If the test result proved her theory, Christy would work like hell to smack some sense into him.
While everyone waited for Mr. Helmick to arrive, Christy wandered to the dressing room backstage. Paige was setting up all the makeup tools that the drama department managed to pay for with its tiny budget. Izzy leaned against the wall next to a mirror. Neither her nor Paige seemed to notice Christy in the doorway.
“I wonder why he didn’t do callbacks,” Paige said as she organized some makeup brushes.
“I heard it’s ‘cause he did auditions too late so he’s trying to cram everything,” Izzy said as she checked her nails. “And he knows all of us, so I guess he knew who fit who already.”
“He didn’t know Christy,” Paige said in a disparaging tone. “I bet she sucked his cock.”
“Actually,” Christy said as she walked toward them, and Paige stood up with fire in her eyes. “I’ve acted in a few plays, so I deserve it. Unlike you, my understudy.” Christy looked Paige up and down.
“Um, she’s still part of the play,” Izzy said, stepping forward. “Just wait till she runs you over with her car so she can take your place.”
Growing pissed at the two forces against her, Christy walked to the bottles of foundation and picked one up. “You’re not even good at makeup.” Before either of them could say or do anything, Christy opened the bottle and poured the contents on the floor.
The girls gasped, with Paige snatching it out of Christy’s hands. In the corner of Christy’s eye, Mr. Helmick, in another of his plaid shirts, had just walked in and gawked.
Oh shit. “Wait,” Christy said as she raised her hands. “I can explain.”
Mr. Helmick’s eyebrows slanted into a frown. “You don’t need to explain anything. That’s not tolerable in any show of mine.”
Christy could feel her face burning up. “Wait…”
“May I speak with you outside?” He pointed to the doorway. “You girls stay put. Don’t clean that up.”
With everyone quiet, Christy marched out of the room. She turned to see Mr. Helmick following.
He folded his arms. “We haven’t even started our first rehearsal, and you’ve given me enough reason to believe you aren’t taking this production seriously.”
She sighed though she was freaking out on the inside. “It was just a joke. I won’t do it again.”
He stared at her as if he didn’t believe her, but then his shoulders relaxed. “Okay. But please keep in mind, another strike and you’re out. I mean it.” He jutted a thumb at the dressing room. “Now go clean up that mess.”
She fumed the entire time she went to the janitor’s closet to get a mop and bucket. Up until now she had amazing luck with her blows against Paige. To be honest with herself, she was expecting the karma to come earlier, but she figured her luck was selective.
Above all else, though, she couldn’t let Paige take Rizzo’s role.
Mr. Helmick talked to Paige about makeup stuff while Christy mopped up the puddle of foundation on the floor. After Mr. Helmick and Izzy left, Paige’s feet stopped next to the bucket. Christy slowly brought her glare up to Paige’s smug expression.
“You’re a stupid-ass bitch,” Paige said.
“How are you any different when you’re fucking my little brother?”
Her eyes widened. “So he told you already?”
Christy shrugged and put the mop in the bucket. “I took a guess and asked him. He sucks at lying to me.”
“Just so you know, it has nothing to do with you.”
Christy scoffed. “It has everything to do with me. You’re hurting him and he doesn’t even know. I guess that’s what happens when your enemy’s a slut.”
She shook her head. “You just don’t get it.” Then she turned to the door and said over her shoulder, “We’re together whether you like it or not. So fuck off.”
With both hands gripping the mop hard, Christy pushed both the mop and bucket as she followed Paige out of the dressing room. After Christy left the equipment in the janitor’s closet and slammed the door, she turned around to the area where the entire cast huddled around Mr. Helmick for the read-through.
As the first scene started, all Christy could think about was how disgustingly confident Paige seemed about dating Mark--her little brother--of all people. They wouldn’t even make a good couple. Paige really was a real-life succubus.
Christy read her lines until the end of the read-through, her mind drifting to the pregnancy test. Thankfully Mr. Helmick dismissed the entire cast for the day, so she sped to her backpack lying with everyone else’s and slung it over her shoulder. She decided to go to the school bathroom, as she was too desperate to care.
Since it was a Sunday, the campus for the most part was empty. She found an open and empty restroom far away from the auditorium and locked the door. She fumbled for one of the pregnancy tests and opened it to pull out the tools. She still remembered the procedure, so she threw the box aside and went into a stall to pee in the strip.
She left the strip on a sink and just paced. It was the second longest two minutes of her life, next to the last time she took one two years ago. She had gotten a positive on the test after CO Donovan raped her. And though she technically agreed to doing it, it still felt like rape.
As she paced, she checked all of her social media yet kept glancing at the time. When the timer in her phone finally rang, she took a deep breath and turned to the sink.
There were two bands.
As if someone had turned on a switch inside her, the tears flowed out of her eyes and she wailed. It couldn’t be. She needed to take another one.
So she did, and this time she stared at the strip the entire time. Two bands again.
She sat on the filthy floor with her back against the wall, and she just let it all out. Some part of her mind said, “I told you so,” while another said, “Buy another test just to be sure.”
But she knew very well that Carter’s old condom was broken that one night in his bedroom, but she was too into the sex to take another look at it. She was so fucking stupid.
She felt so alone once again: just herself and the bundle of cells in her stomach growing with each passing second. This wasn’t fair. This bundle of cells wasn’t fair. Carter cheating on her wasn’t fair. Getting into this situation once again was unfair.
In all the years she’d lived, the entire fucking world was unfair.
In the last few days, Christy had taken so many of the vitamin C supplements that she got some major headaches, and just this morning she had diarrhea. The fact that she had a sprig of parsley up her vagina the whole time didn’t help either.
Mom had said this was the most natural and safe way to get a miscarriage. Mom used the term “miscarriage,” but really, it was an abortion.
The only way to know if the supplements and parsley worked was if she had cramps and started bleeding. She had cramps all morning.
Groaning in pain as she sat on the toilet, Christy covered her abdomen as if it would stop the cramps. She had to be bleeding at this point. She widened her legs to check the toilet bowl: no blood.
She might as well use a pad and check later, but she stayed on the toilet and stared off into space.
She’d always imagined abortions to be extremely gory with evil doctors around her while she lay on an operating table unconscious. Then one doctor’s Latex-gloved hands would carry the bloody fetus from the operating table to a trashcan.
Instead of that terrifying scenario, though, it could be just as simple as bleeding in a toilet.
As Christy rolled up some toilet paper, she felt a small discharge from her vagina. Gasping, she widened her legs again to see blood. It worked.
But instead of congratulating herself, she let out a long cry.
It happened. She got rid of the new cells growing inside of her, yet it felt like a part of her died.
Wiping away some tears with toilet paper, she of course knew half of the fetus’s DNA belonged to a perverted, screwed-up correctional officer. Donovan had to be the one CO in the entire juvenile hall to know about her drug smuggling, and to keep his mouth shut, he wanted sex. It was torture going through it, but she didn’t want a longer sentence.
Those fucking bitches had set her up. She believed them when they said if she smuggled the crack alone, they’d all snort it together. But no one was to be trusted anymore.
She didn’t get a longer sentence, but she had to keep a huge secret with consequences that included the murder of her dad. He just had to be drunk the night she broke the news, then he’d drive to juvie only to get pulled over by a racist cop and get shot down like an animal.
A week later, she was now doing her late father a favor. She was getting rid of the bundle of cells that no one wanted. It was this bundle of cell’s fault that Dad died in the first place.
She let out a frantic groan as the biggest cramp yet hit her abdomen. Grabbing more toilet paper, she wiped away new tears.
There was a knock on the door. “Mija,” Mom said, “are you okay?”
Christy sniffled. “Yes,” she responded in Spanish. “It’s working.”
Mom gasped softly. “That’s good!” she said in Spanish. “May I come in?”
“Yes. The door’s unlocked.” Christy blew her nose.
She didn’t feel embarrassed when she scooted to the side of the toilet to show Mom the drops of blood. She lost all feelings of embarrassment when Dad died in the hospital.
Mom’s sad eyes were on Christy before Mom embraced her. When Mom pulled away, she cupped Christy’s cheek and said, “What are you thinking right now?”
Christy blew her nose again. “I don’t know. I feel happy but also sad.”
Mom kissed her forehead. “You’re very strong for doing this.”
More tears came out. “I don’t feel strong.”
“Everything will be okay, honey.” Mom pulled her into another hug, and Christy allowed herself to get lost in her mother’s comforting embrace.
She just hoped to never experience this again.
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