Reaction - Lesley Choyce [1]
“I’m scared,” Ashley said, leaning into me and holding tightly onto my arm.
I didn’t tell her how scared I was, and I didn’t even tell her about the condom then. I said what guys say in situations like this when the blood has drained out of their heads and they are screaming inside, panicking, ready to run for the hills and never come back. I said, “Everything is going to be all right.”
Chapter Two
The morning became the afternoon, and it started to sink in. Ashley was two months pregnant. We had been going out together for only three months. She seemed to be sold on me. And I loved being with her. She was sweet and sexy and one year younger than me, which should have been no big deal. But one year can sometimes seem like a big issue in high school. She had been flattered that I wanted to hang out with her—most of the time it was just the two of us—and, well, like I said, she was sweet and sexy.
We ended up sitting on a bench in a park where mothers pushed their little kids on swings and bigger kids played on the slide and the monkey bars. There were babies in strollers and mothers chatting about brands of throwaway diapers. It was the worst place to be thinking about Ashley being pregnant, but it’s like the gods had planned it this way.
Ashley cried, and I held her. She stopped and then started crying again, and some of those mothers looked at us—some seemed concerned, and some scowled. I just held her and wondered how one minute everything can be okay and the next, everything has changed.
I don’t know why I didn’t keep my mouth shut. I felt I had to say something. I guess I felt she needed to have an explanation. So I told her about the broken condom.
And that changed everything.
Ashley pulled away. The expression changed on her face. “Why didn’t you say something that night?”
Yes, why didn’t I? I shrugged.
“Then this is all your fault,” she said, way too loud.
“I’m sorry. It’s no good getting mad at me now. We have to figure out what to do,” I said unconvincingly.
“If I had known, I could have maybe done something.”
“I know,” I said. I knew she was referring to morning-after pills. I just didn’t think at the time that one little slipup would result in this.
“I trusted you,” she said.
“I know,” I said, hanging my head.
“You bastard,” she snapped back. And then she hit me.
Well, it could have been a slap. I’m not sure. Something between a slap and a punch right on the side of my face. Then she got up and started walking away. I ignored the stinging in my face and followed her. All eyes in the park, even those of the little kids, were on us.
“Please, wait,” I pleaded. Ashley shook me off and just kept walking. She turned once to say, “I never want to speak to you again,” before walking off into the afternoon.
I was dizzy, and I was having a hard time getting my bearings. I didn’t know what to do. A voice in my brain kept telling me to go after her, but instead I turned and walked home. I told my mom I was sick, and I went to my bedroom and played Guitar Hero. I know how that sounds, but that’s what I did. I ate a silent supper when the time came, played some more Guitar Hero and then went to sleep feeling like crap. I kept trying to think of some way out of this. Some plan. But all I did was keep beating myself up. What had I been thinking? Was sex really so important that I let this happen? Eventually I fell asleep.
When I woke in the morning, the problem was still there, staring me square in the face.
Chapter Three
Over the next few days, things went from bad to worse. Ashley walked away from me every time I tried to talk to her. She had two words for me: “Get away.” That’s all she’d say. And each time my heart sank. Her brother Stephen followed me into the bathroom one afternoon. Stephen was my age and in many of my classes. He was a big guy, a wrestler on the school team, and legendary for his bad temper, which I think he got from his father.
“You’re gonna have to watch your back