Baby and Me - After Summer

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I dreamt of the baby while I was napping today. Lately, I've been napping everyday in between classes. It helps with the nausea. In my dream, the baby was a boy. He had blonde hair, like Peter, and rosy cheeks. 

It was just the two of us in my dream, laying on my dorm bed. The baby was giggling and making sweet baby coos. Every once in a while the baby would look up at me and our eyes would connect. The baby and I shared a connection that felt undeniable in my dream. Nothing would ever come between us. I wasn't scared in my dream not the way I am in reality.  Then, my mother walked into the room and she sat down beside us. She was exactly how I remember her. Her long thick hair hung loose, she had on the same outfit as the day she left. A tight black tank tops and a pair of thrifted jeans. She looked curvy and young. Colleen takes after our mother and her beauty. In my dream, she watched the baby and I. She looked awkward and sad. I offered to let her hold the baby but she shook her head and turned away. 

Then she disappeared and it was just baby and me again. It was almost like she was never even there in the first place. 

When I woke up, I almost called her. Just to check in with her, make sure she was still alive and okay, but I didn't. I long to hear the sound of her deep throaty voice.  To hear her tell me that I was going to be okay and that she would take care of me. But my mother would never do that and I would never ask her to do it. I don't need her, my dream made that clear. 

Peter and I have seen each other twice more around campus, since that first day in the dining hall. Both times we ran into each other, we didn't acknowledge each other. I still haven't told him about the baby, but then again, I haven't told anyone else either. 

Elizabeth should've picked up on my symptoms by now, but she's too preoccupied. At first I thought she had distanced herself because of my mood swings, one moment I'm laughing and the next I'm crying, but now I'm sure the mood swings aren't too blame. Lately, she's been out every night with her new boyfriend and when she's in the room, she's texting him. So much for living out the single experience at college together. I should be grateful that she's distracted. The longer the baby is kept a secret, the longer I get to have a normal life. 

I don't know if I'll ever tell Peter. I'm not sure what's best for the baby or what's best for Peter. Sometimes I consider getting the adoption process started, so the baby has a new family the minute it's born, but I can never get myself to do it. Selfishly, I want to keep the baby for myself; I can't imagine a world where Peter and I have a baby that isn't apart of our lives. Then I imagine the look on Peter's face when I tell him. I would be taking away his entire future, everything he ever dreamed of accomplishing would be compromised. 

My phone buzzes. 

It's official. He's dropped the charges. 

The message is from Peter. It's so weird seeing his name pop up on my phone, it reminds me of the summer. So much has changed since then. 

I knew Charlie would drop the charges. He didn't have a choice, but still I feel undeniable relief when I read the message. I have one less thing to worry about. 

I don't text back. I place my phone back on the desk, determined not to give in to the temptation of talking to Peter. 

My phone buzzes again. I check without hesitation. It's another message from Peter. 

Can we meet today? 

This time I don't ignore the message. I don't allow myself the time to consider what meeting up with Peter might mean. I'm too overwhelmed with desire to see him and to hear his voice again. I immediately respond to have him meet me down at the grassy field by the river, the spot I saw him all those weeks ago. I figure it's a quiet and public place to meet. We can speak privately, but if things get heated Peter would never shout in front of a crowd.  

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