Handprints on the heart

3 months ago

I bit my lip questioning all of the possible answers I could say to Nash in my head. It wasn't long before I had decided no, but when I looked up into his eyes to say so I stopped. His beautiful blues were so full of lust, desire, and pure love that I couldn't help the words "yes" to tumble out of my lips. His eyes lit up light the moment he heard the sound of the letter y fall from my lips and he passionately pulled me into him, his bare chest radiating warmth. Wet lips crashed against my own and his experienced fingers trailed lightly down my sides causing me to shiver. Soon, more clothes were off and the room was filled with the fire of our passion. When it was time for his boxers he glanced at me, as if to ask if I was ready. Pulled up in the moment, I nodded ravenously and continued clashing my body against his.
Was I forgetting something?
Yes.
Was I making a huge mistake?
Probably.
Did I realize just how big of a mistake?
Not even close, baby.
3 months later
The small white stick flashed a single pink line at me. I laughed. A weird strangled laugh that eventually turned into sobs. My whole body was in a spasm, and it seemed I wasn't in control anymore. The pregnancy stick just showed me that. I continued until my sobs turned into dry-heaves and my dry-heaves turned into throw-up. Whether it was from morning sickness or pure self disgust and anxiety I did not know. The first thing that flashed through my mind was how to tell my parents. My dad was not known for his controlled-temper. My mom's disappointment and crying would be much worse though. My second thought was how I would deal with all the cold-hard stares filled with disgust-not that I could blame them, fifteen and pregnant is disgusting. I could barely walk across the lunch room without my face turning apple-red from embarrassment, or at least my friends told my while hysterically cracking up. How would I deal with stares full of pity and disgust.
I got up from my fetal position on the floor and slammed my head into the door. Enough for it to be a nasty black and blue within a hour. I stopped short after a seconds head-slam.
Could it hurt the baby?
I placed my hand on my slightly big, hard stomach. That was when it hit me.
I'm going to be a mother. And despite all of it, I was excited. It was like jumping off a plane with a parachute. It's exciting, but fear over consumes it 99% of the time. I did a little excited yelp before everything else tumbled over again. Including the fact that the baby wasn't made just by me.
Oh, Nash.
When I thought about his reactions my mind was blank. A white paper that could either be filled with hearts or fire.
There is no in-between.
And what kind of example was I setting for my sister. She's thirteen, she's not stupid. She'll know I had sex, she'll probably hate me.
And my brother. At 17 he knew other girls like me. Knocked up in the teens. Probably not as young as fifteen, put close enough. He'd think I was a slut, a whore, easy. He'd also kill Nash, he was his best friend after all.
I laughed, insanely at the irony of me getting pregnant.
It was my first time.
Not that anyone will believe that. That's what everyone who gets knocked up says. My Dad would probably kill me if I keep the baby too.
I could put up the baby for adoption though. It would ease all my problems and the baby would have a safe home with parents who love him or her. It just seems the moment I found out, I got attached to the mere thought of holding my child in my arms. Babies had always been my thing. I was baby-sitting four kids by the time I was twelve and 3 in a different family almost every night. One of them was a 8 month baby. He's name was James and he was the sweetest thing I had ever meet, as were his 3 brothers (ages 2, 6, and 8). Every one of them was so calm and polite-except for the baby. He couldn't talk, obviously-. Anyways every baby I saw in the mall or street had me wanting to run up and hold them. Don't even let me go into when I find out my aunt was having a baby.
And now I'm having one. It would kill me to let it go. Despite it being selfish and stupid I know I'm keeping the baby.

I knocked on my sister's door. When she didn't answer I walked in.
"What the hell? Get out, I'm doing my homework," she said pushing her headphones back on.
"Why are you crying?" Samantha asks, annoyed and uninterested.
"Sam-" I break off looking at her face.
Her honey blonde waves ran down her back and her gorgeous blue eyes framed by her long lashes shine even in the bad lighting of her room.
Her face screams innocence and I'm going to break it.
"Sammy, I'm pregnant"
She stares at me wide eyes and slowly takes off her headphones.
"Excuse me, I don't think I heard you right, what did you say?" She asks but I can tell she heard me. She's just denying that she did. Pretending maybe the music made it sound like her sister is knocked up.
"I'm pregnant" I say trying not to cry.
She laughs suddenly.
"Stop trying to trick me Cass, you're an awful actor too" she says and pulls her headphones back on.
I can't hold it in any longer.
I sob.
"Shit Cassie, you really are aren't you? You know you're screwed right, Dad's gonna kill you! How stupid were you?" She exclaims watching me cry in the door. I slowly drop to the floor. She runs over and awkwardly sits next to me. Sam and I weren't very close, especially not when one of us was sad.
"You're really knocked up?" She asks glancing at my stomach.
"Yes Sam, I'm pretty sure we've already gone over this," I reply meanly.
"You've screwed up the family you know right" she says looking off into space.
"Gee, you're really making me feel better about this" I said and press my head into my hands.
"So you had, like sex?" She asks annoyingly.
"Nope, I guess you figured it out. I'm the next Virgin Mary and you're Jesus's aunt. Sorry for leaving that part out, it kind of skipped out of my head" I say.
"So is that a yes?" She asks reaching over to touch my stomach.
"YES SAM! It's a yes! I had sex with Nash and now I'm knocked up, okay?" I yell and jump up before she can touch my stomach before walking out the door.
Cameron is standing at the door jaw open.
"The hell Cam! Why were you listening!" I yell at him.
He just stares.
"I suppose you heard by now..." I say feeling exhausted,running my hands through my caramel brown hair.
His face suddenly turns an angry red and he slams his fist into the wall.
It doesn't even make a dent.
"Nash got you knocked up?" He asks in a yell.
"Yeah Cam, but please you can't tell him! I need to him myself and it isn't all his fault! I'm the one knocked up, aren't i?" I ask and he turns redder.
"Nash isn't fifteen he's eighteen! That's illegal Cassie! He could go to jail! God dammit, I hope that sick bastard does!" He yells.
Thank god Mom and Dad aren't home.
Cameron looks me over for a minute, "You know you're screwed right?" he asks calming only slightly.
"Quite literally, yes. I know I'm screwed" I say and his face softens for a minute. I almost think I see a slight smile peaking out but he masks it quickly.
My eyes start to swell up with tears and I run into my room.
Cameron follows.
"Oh, Cassie" he says sitting on the edge of my bed while I cry.
"Just go away. Please, I need to sort all of this out" I say trying to be gentle.
He nods and starts to walk away before turning towards me.
"Even though your knocked up, you're still my favorite sister" he says and I smile.