Safe

Chapter 1: Help

Hi! Before you start reading, I'd just like to say I'm very happy that you're reading this book. I'm sorry if my grammar or spelling isn't always accurate, and please be aware that some of the information in here isn't correct, so please feel free to correct me with ANY of my mistakes. I know I make a lot of them but I hope you won't be offended by anything I write and that you still enjoy the book. These pictures are not owned by me. They're just from Google. I hope they help you with the story. I write because I want to help and inspire, even though I know I'm just a little person in a huge world. If something here offends you, please know it wasn't on purpose, not at all. I want this to be a good book, I want you to like this book, I would never want to hurt anyone with it. I'm still improving my writing skills, so I know I might be making a lot of mistakes throughout this book with my writing but I still really hope you like it! Have a great day and happy reading!
Thank you

•••

The school bell rings and the classroom goes from crowded and noisy to empty and silent in a couple of minutes. Mrs McPherson turns away from me. She starts to rub out the words on the board.

My heart speeds up, and I swallow a few thousand times before Mrs McPherson turns around and jumps up into the air.

"Evie!" She shouts. "I didn't see you there. Sorry."

"Oh no, I'm sorry," I say.

She takes a deep breath and walks to her desk to pick her phone up. I don't know what she sees on her screen, but it makes her smile.

"I got to get going soon," she tells me. "Did you need anything? Do you have any questions about the test?"

"No, that's completely clear," I sigh, looking down at the low score on my test.

"What can I do for you, Evie?"

Mrs McPherson sounds almost annoyed. I get it. It's Friday night, and I guess she's got something planned. I shouldn't keep her. This was a bad idea. Maybe I should just leave.

"Nothing," I say hastily. I grab my stuff and get up. But suddenly I get dizzy, and fall back into my chair. Mrs McPherson runs over. She calls my name, grabs my hands and pulls me up.

I try to open my eyes. It's hard. My eyelids want to shut close. I haven't slept in a while. I've been up most of the nights, trying to think, trying to plan, trying to study. It's not exactly working out.

I look up at Mrs McPherson. She looks concerned. Her eyebrows are pressing down at her brown eyes, and her orange-y lips are pursed into a line. She's wearing a white blouse and a long brown skirt. Her hair is down. That's unusual. She usually puts it up into a ponytail or ballerina bun, sometimes she even braids it. Her hands are cold. I pull away, get up and walk quickly towards the door.

"Evie, wait!" Mrs McPherson calls. I stop. "I've been worried about you. You seem very tired, and this test... it's not like you. Suddenly you're fainting in my classroom. Is everything okay? Are you eating properly?"

I nod. "Believe me, I'm eating properly."

"Okay, then what's the matter, Evie? You're one of my brightest students. I just want to help you."

I sit down by the closest school desk. Mrs McPherson looks down at me. I open my mouth, and expect the words to just come pouring out. Instead, they stay locked up in my brain, eating me away.

Just two words. Two words that change just about everything.

"I'm pregnant," I say.

I can't look up from the school desk. My hands are shaking like crazy. I try to hold them tightly so that they'll just stay still, but it doesn't work. It's not even close to working.

"Oh," Mrs McPherson says.

Holy shit. I think I might throw up. Here, right now, in the classroom. I haven't thrown up in school since I was a kid, and caught the stomach bug. Or that time we were talking about worm infections at biology.

"Umm... I'm honoured that you told me this. Thank you."

You're welcome?

"I... I don't really know what to say."

"And I don't know what to do," I tell her. "Please. Please help me, Mrs McPherson."

When did my communication skills die? Seriously. I feel dizzy again, and my nausea won't stop. I guess it won't stop for a couple of months.

Mrs McPherson looks confused. She looks at my belly. It hasn't really started to grow yet, but I still cover it up with my hoodie. It feels weird when someone stares at it.

"Do you want to speak to the school counsellor?" She asks.

"No!"

"I'm sure they've had cases like this before. They could help you to come up with a plan, to support you..."

"No, I don't want to speak with them."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, they would just contact my father and I don't need him to know about this."

A few minutes go without anyone saying anything. Mrs McPherson sits down in a school bench beside me. Her eyes move from my belly to my hands. I look at them too. They're shaking a bit less now. Good.

"Your dad lives in Houston, right?"

"Yeah," I say. "We don't speak anymore. He used to talk to my sister and stuff, but after a while he just stopped calling."

"Oh. But wouldn't he find out eventually?"

"I'm not sure when I'm going to see him, or anyone from my family, again so I choose not to think about that part right now."

Mrs McPherson just nods. I don't know why I told her about this really. She's just always been one of those teachers that I really trust and admire, you know? I think most people have had a teacher like this. One that you sort of look up to. I just thought that she could help me. Who else is going to, right? My sister works hard. She's trying to make things work with her husband. When I told her, at first she was really mad, then we started to talk about it and after a while, it was just like I had told her that I had kissed someone.

She never gave me a plan, or told me what to do like she usually does. I thought she would, eventually, but she hasn't yet and I'm sort of freaking out.

"Do you want to tell me more about it?" Mrs McPherson asks.

"W-what?" I stutter.

"Like how it happened and what you're going to do about it and stuff. You don't have to, I can just help you more if I get to know the details."

I swallow hard, look down at the school desk.

"I met a guy," I say softly. "He was my boyfriend. We were really happy together. I thought he was great, you know? He was a freshman at a good college, he wanted to become a screenwriter, he loved taking me for ice cream, and we always watched French movies together because his mother wouldn't let him watch anything else. Then one day he just left. He sent me a text, saying that he was going to travel and that we probably weren't going to see each other in a while. He said he wanted changes, he said he wanted a life. A couple of weeks after, I noticed that my health was weird, so I searched a bit on the internet and then I took a pregnancy test. I told my sister. I don't know what she's going to do about it."

Mrs McPherson leans closer to me. She looks worried. There's a few sparkles of sweat on her neck, that she's been rubbing throughout this conversation, and her hands well they're not shaking but they still sort of look like they're shaking.

"Are you going to keep it?" She asks.

"Yeah... I mean it's scary and tough and it makes me feel horrible but maybe I still want to keep it," I answer.

She smiles at me. She takes me hand and gives me a reassuring smile.

"Then I'm sure you're going to be just fine."