Beating For Two

Chapter 18

Tuesday, March 1st

Twenty-eight weeks and one day

When I woke up at seven thirty on March 1st, the first thing I became aware of was that the baby was kicking. Again. It seemed like not having delivered one single kick for over a week had left him with extreme amounts of energy because he'd virtually been kicking non-stop since the previous Friday. Not that I really cared; having walked around thinking that he was dead for several days, I was now happy every time he gave me an indication that he was alive.

“Yeah, yeah, I can feel you,” I mumbled tiredly as I sat up and rubbed my eyes. He kept kicking as I stood up from my bed and walked over to my closet to find something to wear and he kept kicking until I'd walked out of my room, entered the bathroom and turned on the shower.

“I'm gonna get back at you for all this kicking one day,” I said as I pulled the gigantic t-shirt I'd been using as pyjamas for the last few weeks over my head.

“I could forbid you to go to parties and stuff when you're a teenager or refuse to let you have a girl in your room with the door closed. You're gonna hate me for doing that, I'm sure.”

Then I realised that I probably wasn't gonna be around when he was a teenager and I shook my head a little to gain my sensibility back before I stepped into the shower and closed the glass door.

“You know, I kinda wish you could talk to me,” I said as the warm water ran down my body.

“Your dad wants me to keep you, but... I don't know. It would be easier to decide if you could help me out a little.”

A kick was all I got in response and I smiled a little.

“Yeah, I know, I'm just talking a lot of nonsense. But... well, he's a good guy, your dad. A great guy who has a not-so-great girlfriend. I don't really get what he's doing with her. He's nice, funny, smart... okay, well, not so smart always, but he's nice and funny and good-looking. Really good-looking.”

I stood there like that for almost half an hour, talking to my stomach about my very much unrequited crush on Harry, before I realised that I had to get a move-on unless I wanted to be late for my doctor's appointment. After having thrown on a pair of sweatpants – “how fat am I supposed to get before I explode?” – and the biggest hoodie I could find – “people are gonna think I wanna be a rapper” – I put on a pair of converse, wrapped a scarf around my neck and headed out the door. The weather had taken a complete turn the last couple of days and at the moment, the sun was shining and a light breeze blew in my hair as I walked. My mood was, for once, quite good and a smile was playing on my lips the entire way to the doctor's office.

Harry was already there when I entered the waiting room, sitting in a chair with his chin resting in his hand and his eyes closed. He didn't sit up straight or even lift an eyelid when I'd walked over to where he sat and I smiled a little when I realised he was asleep. Not wanting to wake him up, I sat down in the chair next to his and waited for the five minutes that were left before the clock struck nine to pass by. I threw a quick glance at Harry's sleeping face and had to smile yet again. He always looked good, but now, with his mouth hanging half open and his eyebrows scrunched up, he looked adorable. I didn't get to enjoy the sight for long though, because it was only a short while after that the door to Dr. Hayes' office opened and the doctor herself stuck her head out.

“Not an early-bird, I see,” she said with a smile and nodded towards Harry.

I smiled back before I stood up and poked Harry's shoulder lightly. He didn't react immediately, so I poked him again, a little harder this time.

“'M up, I'm up,” he said and scrambled around a little, apparently still half-asleep, until he stood up on his feet and scratched his head.

“You okay?” I asked, feeling rather amused by his somewhat frantic way of waking up.