When I Look at You (A Josh Hutcherson love story)

The Put-Off

"This is not happening. It can't be true." I whisper to myself over and over again as I slowly slide down the wall in the bathroom after finding out that my pee is telling me I'm with child.

I try to think about when this would have happened. It must have been the night before Josh left, it's the only logical explanation. I could have sworn we used protection, though... Whatever. I need to get to a doctor, pronto.

So I lift myself carefully off the floor. Somehow the fact of knowing that I have a living, breathing human inside of me scares me into oblivion. I don't want to hurt it in any way. I know that I probably am not ready for any of this; for living alone in my boyfriend's house, which is now technically our house, or for being a mother. But I might as well do the best that I can at what was set in front of me.

Anyway, I grab my phone off of the counter and scroll through my contacts. I finally find the "Doctor" contact, and call them. Josh probably would have been the better option for calling first, but I just feel it would be better to tell him face-to-face. I'll definitely tell him on Skype tonight.

"Is everything okay?" I hear in my ear, and realize that a woman has already picked up on the other line.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Um, I just wanted to know if you had any OB-GYNs at your office? I think I might be pregnant and I need to know for sure." I struggle to say the last part, because it is kind of embarrassing to admit to a complete stranger.

"Oh, of course we do, sweetie," the older woman on the other end of the call coos, almost apologetically. "If you are able, maybe you could come in maybe an hour?"

"That's perfect. Thanks so much!" I say to the lady. She gives me the address of the office and we hang up. I should probably bring these tests, I think. Then I catch a glimpse of someone in the mirror that I don't recognize.

I see a girl with the same clothes I have on, her hair the same messy bun that sits atop my head, but her face is what's different. This girl looks very afraid, judging by her wide eyes and the tear streaks lining her cheeks. She also looks a lot older, as if I have aged in the past five minutes. But somehow, I know the girl who stares back is me. A me that I have never seen before. One that is not ready for what is ahead, one that doesn't know how to handle the future, but one who knows that she will get by, with whatever things are thrown her way.

And so I leave that bathroom with new-found confidence, a baggy with eight positive pregnancy tests, and the strength in my heart of three thousand wrestlers.

***

When I walk into the doctor's office half an hour later (which turns out to be attached to a hospital, so it's pretty big), I see that it is packed. There is someone from every age group here; whether you are five months or one hundred and five years old you would fit in. So I don't get looked at funny when I walk into the office to go and sign some papers before I get called in at the exact time of my appointment.

"So, Lillian, I hear that you think you might be pregnant. Is this true?" A woman in her mid-thirties, who introduced herself as Dr. Hartford, asks me when I sit down in one of the rooms. This room contains a bed, some cabinets and a wheel-around screen that has a lot of buttons connected to it by wires. This must be the ultrasound room.

"Yes, Doctor. And by the way, you can call me Lilly." I reply to her question.

"I see, and how did this happen?" Dr. Hartford asks me.

I had sex, I want to say, but instead I explain the night before Josh left -- leaving out all of the unimportant, kinky details. When I finish, the doctor just looks at me above her glasses for a long time. In these moment, I get a good look at her. She has natural caramel colored hair that comes down to about her shoulders, is pretty tall, maybe 5'9, and has square-framed glasses perched perfectly on her nose. She is very pretty, but I can't see a wedding ring. I wonder why...