"Ow ow! Get it baby!"T
Jesus...such pigs, I swear.
"Hey Ben, who's your favorite?"
Oh really? You pick favorites now?
"I like the brunette with the legs. She's fine!"
Oh great. They're talking about me. Just what I need.
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It's finally midnight, and Brad is about to pick me up from my shift. I started working at Benny's Topless about three days after Bradley suggested I sleep with his friends for money. We had a huge fight about it and he apologized, but I decided that I did need to get a job so he wasn't the only one supporting us. Since we ran away from Memphis, he had to obviously quit his job as lead detective of the Memphis Police Department, and has picked up a job as a cop for the Phoenix Police Department. I don't know how he does it thoug, with all the drugs he buys and sells. It's a wonder he hasn't gotten caught.
I slip my black sweatpants and Nirvana shirt on over my sweaty lingerie and walk out to the parking lot to wait for Bradley. It's November, but it's still warm out. That's the one thing I love about living in Arizona. The wind picks up and blows my hair back. I check my phone, and it's ten minutes past midnight. I start to worry. Brad usually isn't late. I dial his number--which I now know by heart--on my keypad and wait for the phone to ring. No answer. I sit on the bench outside the bright pink, runned-down strip club and wait as one drunk slob after the other stumbles out. Brad's shiny, silver Lexus pulls up finally, forty minutes later. I get up and stomp my way over to the car, slamming the door as I get in.
"Woah, woah! What's your problem?!" he says.
"My problem is you're almost an hour late! You know I got off at midnight! Where on earth have you been?!"
"I was picking up more H," he mumbles, "I wanted to surprise you."
I sigh and shake my head. He said that it wouldn't be a regular thing, but he just keeps bringing it home more often. I know he just wants to help me take the edge off, but it's starting to be a problem. Especially because he doesn't even do it with me--just injects it for me--which is starting to make me suspicious that something else is going on.
"I appreciate it, but Brad, you know the kind of guys I dance for. This isn't exactly a place that I want to sit outside of for an hour, even if they didn't recognize me."
He nods his head, "I understand, Kay. I'll be on time from now on. I promise."
He flashes that all too familiar, stunningly perfect smile at me, and all my anger just melts away. When we get home, I go straight to the bathroom to take a shower. After work that's always what I do first because I feel so violated and disgusting after dancing around, almost naked, for a bunch of middle aged men who seriously just need to go home to their wives and kids. Oh, and take a shower. Before I get in, I sit down to go pee and notice something: my period is eight days late.
"Hey babe!" I shout from the bathroom.
Bradley pokes his head in the door, "What's up, love?" I'm nervous to tell him, but I know I have to.
"Can you....uhhh...can you run to the store and pick me up a pregnancy test?"
His draw drops before I can even blink. "What for?! Why--no you're not..."
"I don't know," I say, obviously annoyed, "that's why I need you to go get a test."
Brad nods his head and rushes out the door. I hop in the shower and turn it as hot as it can go. I don't know what I would do if I were pregnant. From Brad's reaction, I don't think he wants me to have a baby any time soon. I know we aren't financially stable enough right now to raise a child, and I definitely can't be a pregnant stripper. Benny would probably frown upon that idea, and even if he didn't, there's no way I would continue to prance around in those clothes--or lack there of--with a giant lump sticking out of my stomach.
When I'm done showering, I grab my towel off of the rack and dry off before going into my room to change. When I walk in, Brad is sitting on the bed. He almost doesn't notice me. He's biting his nails and clutching a plastic WalMart bag.
"Are you ok?" I say as I walk into the closet and pull out my favorite Panic! At the Disco shirt and a pair of shorts.
"I'm freaking out. You can't be pregnant!"
"Uhh, yeah I can. Sometimes, that's what sex leads to, you know."
"I know, I know...I just mean that...we're not ready!"
I walk over to the bed, still in my towel, and sit next to him. "We will make this work. I don't know how, and I don't know if I'll end up keeping it if I am pregnant, but I know it'll be okay in the end."
Brad nods and hands me the bag. I kiss him, and he wraps his arms around me. He brushes my sopping wet hair back and kisses my forehead. I get up and reluctantly walk to the bathroom. I'm trying to stall as much as I can, because I'm terrified of the results. I get dressed and run a brush through my knotty, brown tangles and decide to blowdry my hair. I usually don't do this, just because I don't ever feel like taking the time to, but I don't want to take this test. Once my hair is dry, I take the test out of the box and read the instructions. I sit down and on the toilet and take a deep breath before depositing my DNA on the little white stick. This is going to be the most agonizing minute and a half of my life.
Brad comes in to check on me a few minutes later, and he looks down on the bathroom counter. I can't read the look on his face, and I'm still too scared to look for myself. He doesn't move.Just stands there. Frozen. I decide it's time to look for myself. I stand up from the toilet and reach for the stick without looking. I cross my fingers and pray that there's only one pink line and not two. When I finally look, I reach a realization.
Two is definitely not better than one.
YOU ARE READING
The Path Less Taken
Novela JuvenilAfter being raped, Kayla and Avery go down two very different paths. This story follows them during their road to recovery...or self destruction.
