I'm Not Dead

Chapter Twenty-One

I threw up when I got home, leaning over into the fresh snow and melting it with my warm vomit and stomach acid. Mom groaned, I coughed and spit, then walked up to the house. I went to my room and waited a couple minutes to make sure I was done throwing up.

When I was mostly sure I was finished—then after I really wasn't—I took a shower and brushed my teeth and laid down in my bed.

I texted Laura, apologizing.

She just responded with a simple: fuck you

I leaned my head back and sighed.

I brought Laura's present over to her house the next morning as my mother called the insurance company to deal with the truck. We are now down to just my mother's car to get around. One car for the three of us.

So I walked to Laura's house.

She answered the door wearing fuzzy pajamas, slippers, and one of my t-shirts. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun—and not the fashionable one, either; the type that she literally put zero effort into.

"What do you want?"

I held up her gift, wrapped up in shimmery red wrapping paper and topped with a silver bow. Mom wrapped it for me. "Merry Christmas."

"Come on in," She held the door open for me and I stepped inside into the warmth. "Want anything? You look cold."

"Coffee?"

I followed Laura into the kitchen, stopped while she grabbed the last gift under the tree. Her tree was decorated in many different colors, all sorts of different type of ornaments hanging from the branches. Sometimes I forget that not everyone's Mom is so OCD about Christmas decorations.

In the kitchen I shed my coat as Laura started a pot of coffee. She leaned on the counter. "I'm still mad at you, but if you went through the trouble to buy me a gift and get it to me I might as well be civil and open it."

She took the present from me and sat down across from me.

I couldn't think of anything better, so I bought her this necklace. And all I could think about as she unwrapped it was whether or not I took off the price tag. She gasped when she opened it, smiled, and thanked me.

It was my turn. It took the slim box from Laura. It was light and I carefully pulled off the blue wrapping paper. Whatever it was, it was inside a shirt box, a nice one too. I took the lid off of the box, and let out a small little gasp, then a sort of chuckle.

"How'd you get this?"

Inside, folded the way that only experts can, was my football jersey. The number I wore from seventh grade up until now. Number 8. My number. I pulled it out of the box like it was the most sacred piece of cloth known to man. Like God himself—or herself—wore it.

"How'd you get this?" I asked again. We weren't allowed to take home our jerseys. All of them were washed at the school.

Laura smiled. "I have my ways,"

"You stole from the school?"

Laura shrugged. "They were talking about hanging it up. They can always make another. This one is yours. This is the one you played your best and worst games in. This is yours. You've damn well earned it."

I hugged Laura. "Thank you."

Shortly after Christmas was New Year's. Drake held a New Year's party that the three—well, three and a third—of us attended. Theo got shit faced, and Laura and I remained sober. I, because I can't fucking drink. Laura because she can't fucking drink.

It felt horrible to be there, though. I mean horrible. The school knows about Laura, and everyone is still freaked out about me. Theo was the only one who could have a good time, and even then people still judged him for being our friend.

So at midnight while everyone raised their glasses and kissed their midnight kiss, we left. Laura leaned against my shoulder and I kissed her forehead. "It's okay,"

"It was my last New Year's free without a baby and I couldn't even enjoy myself."

I looked down at Laura's stomach. "Augustus Beck, you son of a bitch."

Laura elbowed me. "Don't call our son a son of a bitch."

I smiled. "Augustus Beck you junior of a bitch. See that just doesn't sound right."

Laura smiled at me.

Once we got back in school, Laura and I had a doctor's appointment to finally find out the gender of the baby.

We also got cleared for sex.

So a couple nights later, Laura came over and we sat down across from each other on my bed. Then I started to kiss her, falling into old patterns quickly.

"Wait," Laura said, just as I was about to take off her shirt. "Lights off." She said.

I gave her a confused look. "Laura, you never want the lights off. We always keep them on." I said.

Laura gently pushed me off of her, standing up and flipping the lights off. "Well, now's different." She said.

"Laura, what's changed your mind?" I asked, sitting up.

She sighed. "Elliot, just trust me. You want them off."

"Laura, you're beautiful. I want to see you. Lights on."

"Elliot I'm pregnant and fat." Laura crossed her arms. "I have stretch marks."

I leaned over and turned on the lamp beside me. "Laura," I grabbed her shirt and started to pull it off but Laura yelled at me.

"Elliot, no." She grabbed the edge of her shirt and held it down. "Elliot, please, you don't understand."

"You're right. No, I don't." I said, raising my voice.

Laura stood up. "God, Elliot. Why do I have constantly explain myself to you?!" she raised her voice in return. "It's like every time I talk to you I have to explain myself! Goddamn it! I'm sick of it!"

"Maybe if you weren't so closed up about everything in the pregnancy I wouldn't have to ask so many questions!"

Laura stood up, turning away from me and looking out the window. I don't know what she's looking at: my bedroom has a shitty view of a fence and my neighbor's window.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Laura, I'm sick of fighting so much."

Laura was silent.

Then:

"Let's get married. But, like, small wedding. Elope or something. Get Theo and my parents and your parents and maybe my brother and we can all go to city hall and you and I can elope. Like a mini wedding. We're both eighteen."

"Laura, are you serious?"

She turned around. "I mean, we've been dating for two years now with a baby on the way. Why not?"

I walked over to my dresser and dug around my shirt drawer, pulling out the ring I had for Laura. I got down on one knee. "Laura, will you marry me?"

Laura smiled. "Elliot, when did you get that?"

"Laura that doesn't matter. Will you marry me?"

"So you were already planning on asking me."

"Laura,"

"Right. Yeah. Yes. I will marry you."

I smiled, stood up, and slid the ring on herfinger.