The Scandal

18. Sixteen

The sun was shining in my window, and I just closed my eyes tightly, angrily, willing myself to go to sleep. I never slept anymore, and I was tired all the time.

A few factors led to the insomnia, factors like having to pee every two minutes, not being able to find a comfortable position because I was huge, and getting constantly kicked, often in the ribs, by the evil baby inside me.

The last few weeks had been mostly the same, just getting worse, more miserable, and every day I thought that maybe it was the day. Maybe I'd go into labor. That thought was terrifying, but I figured I'd be on drugs and I'd get through it and then it could all be over.

Because I was serious when I told Leo the baby wouldn't be mine.

My due date grew closer, and I didn't change my mind. No feelings were any different. I wasn't a Mom, but my Mom was the best Mom ever, and why would I fuck up an innocent child when I could let my parents raise her right?

It all made perfect sense to me. I had it all figured out. The problem was that the baby wouldn't come, and as long as she was still hanging out in there, my life was still an awful sad mess.

My due date was two days after my birthday, but I still had it in my head that God would cut me some slack and she'd arrive before then, because if I could just use my birthday wish a little early, I'd wish not to be a pregnant teenager on my birthday.

"Is there anything you wanna do for your birthday?" my Mom asked, thinking that was actually an appropriate question to ask.

I rolled my eyes, turning around to her. She'd called that out to me right when I was about to go back to my room. "No," I replied slowly, condescendingly, as I leaned against the bannister.

"Come on," she begged. "It's your sixteenth birthday."

I nodded. "Oh yeah! But damn, it's too late now to call MTV. It would have been cool, too: 16 and pregnant: celebrity edition!" I exclaimed, smiling an obviously fake smile and rubbing my belly.

Mom shook her head, disappointed. "Olivia, I know how awful this has all been for you, and I think that's why we should do something at least a little fun. I didn't mean, like, a party or anything! Just something we could do here, maybe a friend or two could come over."

"I want to be alone until I'm cute and skinny again," I said in the most spoiled and obnoxious tone, then walked upstairs. I wanted to storm off, but I had lost the ability to go so fast.

The whole thing was incredibly depressing, really. I remembered being a kid and dreaming of my sweet sixteen—the most magical day of a young girl's life, I imagined. Everything would be perfect.

Then when I came to Hollywood, got the role on Kickin' It, my dream became even more extravagant, more special. Mateo was good friends with Jaden Smith, and I knew I could get him invited to my huge party, along with a bunch of other celebrities I'd meet along my way. I even had a theme picked out: Old Hollywood. And everyone would dress up for it, and everyone would bring me gifts, and take pictures of me, and it'd be the best night of my life so far.

It was all just a dream though, an old, stupid, down-the-drain dream.

When I sat up on the morning of August 7th, 2013—my lovely Sweet Sixteen—I let out a long sad sigh. What I thought would be one of the top ten best days of my life, would be one of the worst, I already knew, because that day was supposed to be special, and it couldn't be then. I looked down at my round stomach.