Pregnant Without a Cause

Chapter Three: Episode 8

For those who want to skip ahead, PWAC is on Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/115993

Callie did not go to school that Monday. It felt weird, but she had insisted it was part of the deal. Michelle had gone to the first day of Fat Chance. She was going to decide that night if she wanted to, A: continue with the show, B: allow Callie's "adoption" of baby Booms, and C: how public she was willing to be about all of it. She made it clear she would be the decider, and Callie, of course, agreed to that and had sworn Zam to radio silence. Edouard was a different case. He didn't really know what was going on, and thought they were keeping Callie's pregnancy and baby secret to save her reputation. But he had to cooperate if he wanted to have any chance of continuing on the show.

Callie was on her third exercise video of the day—kick boxing—when Zam came by at 3:30. She was exhausted and sore from all the exercise, sweating on top of old sweat, wearing a huge tee shirt, shorts, and a scrunchie. She never tried to impress Zam with her looks. Wouldn't work anyway.

"So you're not going at all this week?" Zam flopped down on the sofa.

Callie shook her head, counting under her breath with the super happy blonde on the video. At this point she was barely keeping up with the motions, but she could still count. "I have to take care of Booms while my mom does the show. Well, I'm helping my Gumms. She's going to drop him off at four." She gasped for breath. "And I have to lose weight."

Zam brushed his dark, straight hair out of his face. "Why do you have to lose—" 

"Because I'm getting over being pregnant, moronico! If I don't lose weight, I was just fat, not preggers. We went over this last night. Who did you tell?"

"No one," he grumbled, sliding even farther down on the couch. "And I'm not just saying that because you're trying to hit me in the nose."

"I am not! If I... wanted to threaten..." she erased the rest of the sentence with wagging hands, and continued punching at the TV. If Michelle gave her a go, Callie was ready to spring into action. Zam would begin spreading the rumor of her pregnancy- slash-motherhood tomorrow.

"Do you really think you can pull this off?"

"We have to." Callie puffed. "They say the truth hurts, eight, and in this case it would be true. Nine! It'd hurt me, my mom, and Baby Boomer."

"So." Zam stroked his wispy chin hair. "Don't know much about biology, but who is the lucky dad of your baby?"

"Twelve!" She stood up straight, breathing hard. "No one knows. It's a mystery." 

"Come on! If I'm going to be your Minister of Misinformation, I need to know some of what I'm lying about. Okay. So you won't say who, then when did it happen, that you lost your virgin... state?" 

"Who says I was a virgin?"

Zam shot her an offended look. "I'm on your side, remember? I will stay on your side, but don't abuse me."

Callie focused on the screen, wondering again why super happy fit perky Kassie wore those fingerless gloves. She was only punching air. "It was last Christmas, at the Fiesta Bowl band festival. He was a drummer with amazing black eyes. He was from Sandusky, Ohio, or Saginaw, Michigan."

"That's a weird story. Who came up with that?"

"My mom." Callie remembered it not as either a fiesta or a festival, but as a lot of extra practice, running around to get to events, and then sitting around. And someone had stolen her iPod. "There was a band there from Michigan, or Indiana. I forget. It had to be something around that time."

"You guys are good, the band." Zam straightened up.

"Well when they tell you to play the fight song, you play the blutty fight song." 

"You know, alternatively, I could... well..."

"You could what?" Callie looked at him over her shoulder.

"Well, if you want someone, a real live..." He batted his eyelashes at her. "To, you know, take the rap. I could be the dumdum daddy."

"Not highly blutty likely!" Callie laughed. Oh, had she seen this coming! She tried to draw her leg up to shoot a kick in his direction, but didn't have the strength. "Just do your job. When I walk in there a week late, everyone better know why. By then," she puffed, "this will start paying off. Ten pounds off."

"You're going to lose ten pounds in a week?" 

"No, ten pounds a week for three weeks."

Zam rolled his eyes.

"Wanker." Callie mopped her face and neck with a hand towel. "I'm going to bring Boomer to the soccer game on October fifteenth. That'll be his debut. Low key. But there'll be some people there. And I'll be lookin' good."

"Is Edouard really the dad? You know, in the other dimension where your mom had the baby?"

"He has to be." Callie lowered herself gingerly to the floor, legs weak. "They met a year ago. She sure hasn't seen anyone else."

"He ever sleep here?"

"Are you trying to induce vomitage? No!" 

Zam studied her. "She ever stay there?"

"No. They were only really together for like two months. Now they're more just friends. He's too weird."

Callie grabbed the remote and killed the video. She collapsed on the carpet catching her breath. Zam leaned back onthe couch, staring into space.

"Maybe it's the sailor," he said.

"That was a different lie." Callie extended her hands to him. "She was going to tell the adoption agency."

Zam stood and pulled her up. "Or is it? Who is this mysterious sailor?"

"I was scared to death it was my dad." She took a long swig of water.

"Don't you want them to get back together?"

"God, no!" Callie blurted. "They're like poison and... poison."

Zam moaned, "Sayyyy-lorrrr. Who is a sailor? What is a sailor? An occupation, but also maybe a place, a description, an acronym. Maybe it's a code name."

"Holy shiitake, Mushroom Boy! Let it lay!" Callie slapped at him weakly with her towel. Wondering about the father didn't do anyone any good. "It doesn't matter who the father is. He's gone and he's not coming back. What's important is that the baby has a mother—a real mother. Me."

So what is the deal with the Sailor? And what are the chances Callie can pull this off?