Nineteen

Chapter Ninety-Seven

"Em?" I hear through the air.

"Em, are you okay?"

I open my eyes and see Clark sitting beside of me. The paper covering the exam bed is wadded up under my fists.

"A baby?" I put into the air. 

I look around the room. I'm unsure how long I've been here. The doctor left, and I have no idea when. Clark is beside of me on the bed.

"Yeah," he chokes out. "Let's go home."

He helps me up and leads me out of the room. At the main desk, the lady hands me papers on my new appointment and a few on 'becoming a mother'.

"I'll stay with you tonight," Clark says as we drive down the road. I can hear the softness in his voice.

There are a million things going on in my mind. The only thing that makes me want to cripple down and die is the thought of having to tell Collin. 

When we pull into the campus welcoming signs, this is when I cry.

I cry until we get to the parking lot. I cry as Clark leads me to my room.

I cry as I lay down. I cry as he calls in a pizza order. I cry until the pizza arrives.

"What is going on in that head of yours?" he asks as we sit on the bed and eat.

I can't possible tell him everything. "I'm scared. I'm scared of what will happen."

I tell him the truth. I'm nineteen, and I just started my college career. I'm scared of my future.

I know my options, and I'm sure that I'm stuck with the choice I have made. I'm sure, but I'm scared.

I'm really scared. And it doesn't feel real.

"When will you tell him?" he asks.

It's really shitty that a drunken night leads to bad decisions. It's really shitty that is going to be my story.

"I don't know," I whisper. "I barely know him, and what I do know about him doesn't show any potential of being a father, or even wanting to be one."

He rubs his face with his hands and lets out a breath. "Whatever happens, I can help."

I don't want to hear the typical words that everyone says to young girls in this situation. 

"I'm going to tell him or I'll drive myself mad," I say as I stand from the bed. 

"What? You're going now?" he stands and asks.

"I have to." I feel the tears forming behind my eyes.

He fumbles with his keys. "Let me take you, I'll stay in the car."

I nod. I shouldn't let him go, but I may need support from someone. Anyone, really.

The drive to the frat house seems as if it takes forever. My hands are shaking, and I'm unsure if they ever quit from the time that we left the doctor's office.

"I shouldn't be in this situation," I say. 

"It happens. At least you're not sixteen," he laughs.

His joke was horrible and too soon, but I appreciate the effort.

When he parks in the road of the house, I see only one vehicle, and it's the one that I need.

"Where is everyone?" I ask him as I unbuckle my seat belt, and he does the same.

"A party at a sorority rush event, I suppose," he says. He cracks the window to allow a breeze of air.

I fumble with my phone in my hand before throwing it in the middle compartment. "Here I go."

I open the door as I hear Clark wish me luck. The walk to the door is long. The closer I get, I can hear something from inside the house.

It's music. It's not the type of music I would expect. 

"Lionel Richie?" I whisper and almost giggle. I didn't take Collin as a man who refers to himself to be Easy as Sunday Morning.

I almost laugh until I remember why I'm here, and then my stomach knots up.

I knock on the door and wait. With each stomp down the stairs, my heart pounds against my chest.

When the door opens, I'm almost knocked down.

"Hey," he says. "Didn't expect you to come."

He's in his usual outfit, except he lacks a shirt. His hair is wet and he's holding a towel.

His tattoo's are shining from the sun that is setting behind me. When did it get so late?

Focus.

"Hi," I say. He grins a half smile and waves me in.

"What brings you by?" he asks as he shuts the door behind him. "The pretty boy already boring you?"

I cringe at how this conversation has started. I shouldn't have expected anything else.

I turn to face him. "Collin, do you care for me?"

He doesn't flinch. "That's a complicated question that you don't have time to hear."

I want to pull my hair out. He will never answer me in the way that I ask. "Yes or no," I demand.

"Yes, but you already knew that," he says as he lays on the couch.