Love and Ambition

22 - Like We Used To

"About what?!" I snarl. Something I've never done to Jenn before, which leaves a pit of regret in my stomach. Her eyes widen in surprise.

Did she really think that after how my week has been, I would welcome her with open arms? Like we used to as best friends? That label was forcibly ripped away from me. I'm now a stranger. A stranger who's had a shitty week. 

She straightens her lips and turns to walk away. "Nothing. Nevermind."

As I watch her walk away, I feel like she's slipping through my fingers. My heart jumps at the thought of losing her again. 

"Wait!" I call behind her. 

She turns around, sniffling. 

I straighten my shoulders. "Okay. Let's talk."

We enter the library—less of a library and more of a small room with dusty shelves and a couch. It's the only place where we could talk without being interrupted or heard by others. 

"What's up?" I ask. 

Jenn's shoulders drop from the soft tone of my voice, letting out a sigh. 

"I know I've been a bitch—"

"You have."

She smiles lightly at my sarcasm, then waving me off. Like we used to when we've been in a fight. 

As we sit here, our dynamic and the air around us familiar, she still feels so far away. We've fought over boys. Fought over prioritizing boys over each other. Fought over stealing each others shirts like sisters. But we've never fought over...

What feels like nothing.

I would watch her be mad at me, but I'm stuck not knowing 'why'. Like there's a glass between us. I would try to reach out, but she has this wall the she barricades herself in.

"I'm really sorry, Brooke," she turns to me and leans on the back of the couch. "You just wanted to be there, but I pushed you away. I just... I wasn't ready."

Ready?

My silence is her invitation to talk.

"I just feel so, so ashamed. Like I disappointed you, or something. I swear I was careful. But in the midst of all the alcohol, my feelings, and hang over... I just forgot." She looks away from me, her hair creating a curtain around her face.

"Jenn, what are you talking about?"

A deep sigh. A hard swallow. A soft wipe to her cheek from a teardrop. I can read Jenn like a book and the words that's going to come out of her mouth will not be good.

"Brooke, I'm pregnant."

I stiffen, staring at her. All of a sudden, I take notice of my heart racing inside my chest. The whole room crushing me into a small ball.

"How far along and who—" I swallow, "—who's the father?"

"3 weeks ago. With Ryan. He was with us when we were invited out by those girls."

Ryan.

His face comes to my memory in pieces. I manage to place him as her new cute boy-toy from when I first met Jason. 

"It was him you were talking to when you got mad at me, wasn't it?"

She nods.

"What did he say?"

"He..." She trails off as her voice cracks, a lump forming in her throat. As the memory falls onto her, she shudders; sniffling and breathing hard.

She shakes her head. "Brooke, I'm so scared," she turns back to me, tears streaming down her face, and I envelop her into a hug. Like we used to.

I have a good idea of what he said.

After the initial shock of the news and calming down of it, we walk to her dorm room. With the curtains drawn to soften the haze of the sun at its highest, the room feels like a cozy afternoon. 

We lay beside each other, the soft music lulling us in the background. 

"What are you going to do?" I ask, staring up at the ceiling.

"I don't know," she replies softly. 

"You know you have to make a decision before your baby becomes, like, a hand-sized human."

I sense her smiling. "I know."

Your baby. 

I know the idea is in both our heads. A small curly-haired mini-Jenn running around, giggling and smiling with a gap-tooth. The idea that they're wholeheartedly yours and you're their whole heart.

I know she's played around the idea of having kids.

I know she's always wanted to be a mom.

I know she'll be great.

And I know that as we lay here, her mind says 'I don't know', but her heart draws her to that idea of 'what if'.