Girls in Pants - Ann Brashares [74]
Christina nodded.
“Squeeze my hands. Can you do it?”
Christina allowed Lauren to examine her cervix, though she was desperately uncomfortable. Tibby’s hands were mottled white and purple.
“My goodness,” Lauren said breathlessly. “This is fast. Christina, you are ten centimeters and ready to go.”
Tibby stared at Lauren, dumbfounded. Wasn’t Lauren supposed to do this kind of thing every day? Why did she allow herself to get surprised? She said this was going to take hours. As in several. Not as in one. Did Lauren have any idea what she was doing?
Tibby hadn’t even gotten hold of Carmen. She hadn’t wanted to scare her. She’d thought they had hours. She’d thought Carmen would still have enough time to get back. Now what? What were they supposed to do now?
Christina started crying again. There was a whole lot of blood on the bed, under Christina’s legs.
Tibby didn’t want to show her fast-rising fear. If she panicked, where would that leave Christina? She needed to get them focused again.
Christina was in a new kind of pain, making a new kind of noise. Tibby tried not to be alarmed. It wouldn’t help.
“You need to push, hon,” Lauren said. “You’re feeling the pressure and that means you need to push. You’re almost there!”
“No!” Christina was suddenly livid. “I’m not ready! I can’t do this! David isn’t here! Where is he? Where is Carmen? We took the classes! This baby is not due for four weeks!” In her anger, Christina had tuned herself right back in. She let go of Tibby’s hands, rolled back onto her side, and curled into her ball.
Tibby could see from her body that Christina was fighting a ferocious urge.
“She needs to push. I can see it,” Lauren said. “Don’t fight it, Christina. It’s time to have this baby. You gotta let go!” She was trying unsuccessfully to get Christina’s attention.
Tibby tried pulling her up again, but Christina wouldn’t budge. “Tina, will you look at me? Do you see me? You can do this! I know it!”
Christina wouldn’t look. “I can’t.”
We are born believing. A man bears beliefs, as a tree bears apples.
—Ralph Waldo Emerson
Roughly twenty minutes south of Downingtown,
Carmen realized there was another sizable topic she and Win hadn’t considered.
“Are you going away to school next year?” he asked her without looking at her. He was bearing down on a slow Nissan in the fast lane.
“Um.” She licked her lips. “Yes.”
This was the obvious moment to say where she was going. It suddenly struck her how badly she wanted to say she was going to Williams. She wanted Win to think she was smart.
She tapped her bare toes against the dashboard. But she wasn’t going to Williams. She was going to Maryland, and she didn’t want to lie to him anymore. She liked him too much to keep doing that.
“I’m going to Maryland,” she said. She quelled the urge to spout her near-perfect grades and her academic honors. She left it at the truth. If he didn’t like the truth, well…then that was a good thing to know.
“Oh.”
Did he find her disappointing?
“What about you?” she asked. It was strange that she didn’t know. Carmen was a great student. She cared about that kind of thing. Most boys she assessed almost like a brand, and where they went to college added or subtracted from their cachet. Win was different. She’d gotten to know him from the inside, it seemed.
“I go to Tufts. In Boston.” He smiled a little and tipped his head toward her. “I was kind of hoping you were going somewhere up around there.”
I was! she felt like shouting at him. I could have! I almost did!
But she stayed quiet, which was good in a way, because when her cell phone started ringing she heard it right away and snapped it open.
It was Tibby, trying to be calm.
“Oh, my God! Oh, no! Tell me you are kidding,” Carmen roared into the phone.
Tibby wasn’t kidding.
“We’ll be there as fast as we can,” Carmen said helplessly.
“What happened?” Win asked.
“She’s in heavy labor,” Carmen said, a little sob getting past her. “It’s going fast. She’s asking for David and for me.”
“Man,” Win muttered. He took his foot off the gas pedal.