The Best Kept Secret.

-28- Stay.

[Alex]

                I feel like hitting my head against the wall with a forceful blow as I hear her message tone again. Why is she not picking up? Why does she not want to talk to me? It’s been days since we last spoke, days since I last saw her. She’s been skipping school and doesn’t answer the door. I saw her brother in the street and even he hasn’t seen her since last week. She’s not talking to him either.

                What did I do? She has to know that I needed to talk this over with Michaela. She has to know that I was terrified when she told me Kayla was pregnant, that I felt like my heart dropped to the floor when she uttered those words. She needs to know now, that I’m even more horrified. Disgusted with myself, with everything that’s happening. My world feels like it’s spinning a mile a minute, and it’s dizzying, making my head unintelligible, even to myself. Nothing’s cleared up. Nothing’s right anymore.

                And Charlotte still won’t pick up the damn phone.

                Just as I’m about to slam my forehead against my bedroom wall, the door opens, and at the sight of Michaela, I hurriedly throw the phone behind me, and thankfully, it lands on the bed, cushioned against the mattress. Kayla looks rough. I think that’s the best way to describe her. Her blonde hair looks greasy, and her face pale, because she’s not even wearing the caked make-up like she usually is.

                Her eyes look sorrowful, and sad. “Hey Alex.” Running a hand through her hair, she sighs, and looks at the floor. Swallowing the dryness in my mouth, and feeling unimaginably guilty as I look at her, my eyes trailing her body up and down, as I reply to her. She smiles lightly and looks round my room before looking back to the floor.

“What’s up?” I ask, stepping towards her, trying to keep calm.

“I was sick again this morning. Mum’s thinking there’s something wrong, and I don’t know what to tell her. I haven’t been sleeping either.” She sighs again, bringing her eyes up to mine for a split second before they look away again.

“Your not sleeping?” I question, like the caring boyfriend I should be right now.

She shakes her head softly. “I’m panicking, about the. The ba-” her eyes flick down to her stomach as she splutters and her words falter and then continues, “and Charl’s not speaking to me.” Another sigh falls from her lips. “I don’t know what I’ve done wrong, Alex.”

                I bite my lip as I step forwards and wrap my arms around her. “You look like you’re about to drop dead. Come on, I’ll put a movie on, see if we can’t get you to rest your head a little.”

She sniffles into my chest, but I feel the nod of her head against my shirt as she breathes in, clinging to me as I hold her. “She’ll come around.” I whisper, not sure whether I’m talking to her or to myself. “go lie down, while I put the DVD on.”

Kayla nods again, and slowly untangles her arms away from me, stepping around me and placing herself under the covers on the bed, settling with a contented breath as she curls up beneath the thick comforter. My mind cloudy, I pick a random case off the shelf by the TV and insert it without looking at the name or the cover, and join Kayla on the bed. Sitting on top of the covers, I press play, and feel her snuggle up to me, her head falling onto my chest, hair spreading over my shirt, the strands sticking together, her tears soaking into the material of my shirt, her face positioned towards the TV as the film starts, and I hesitantly put my hand on her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm, trying to comfort her as best as I can. Her breathing is raspy with her trying to hold back her sobs as she follows the screen, keeping her face twisted towards the TV, but I can tell she’s crying. Her skin is cold to the touch, and I pull the blankets further over her, feeling her sink even further into me, and within the next ten minutes she’s asleep. She’s snoring softly, and her hand is clinging to my shirt. As soon as I’m sure she’s really asleep, and not about to wake up, I grab my cell, typing in the number I’ve been dialing practically non-stop since Monday when she didn’t turn up to school.