Unapologetically Me

Chapter Twenty Two

Chole held onto my hand tightly and jiggled her knees as we waited in the back room for the nurse to come back with the results. I was already sure that I was pregnant, but for some reason I couldn't get rid of the hope that all of those pee sticks pregnancy tests had been faulty.

The nurse came in holding a clipboard and a cherry smile. "Alright, Miss Whitmore, we got back your results. They came back positive. From the information you gave us, we estimate that you are approximately ten weeks along. After scans we can be more precise."

"Do we have to do scans?" I asked her nervously.

"To be more accurate about how far along you are, we would need to get pictures."

I took a deep breath and nodded. Okay. I knew this would happen. I turned to Chloe and she pressed her lips together and sighed.

"Okay, so can you talk us through her options afterwards?"

"Yes. I can go get the counselor and have her come talk to you about your options after we get the scans. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

We both shook our heads and waited until she left. I laid back on the little bed with the annoying crinkly paper. I slung my arm over my face and took a shaky breath.

"We already knew you were. Now we just get the information we need for the abortion and we make the appointment." Chloe nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders. No biggie.

I knew she was just as nervous as I was. When the doctor came in and sat at the machine with the screen on it, I felt nervous as hell. He greeted me and then had me lift my shirt and unbutton my pants. He tucked a paper towel looking sheet into the waistband of my shorts and then proceeded to squirt a warm jelly on my stomach. He ran a wand over my stomach and I peered up at a TV they had above the door.

He began pointing out different parts of the fetus and we both watched the screen. My heart ached at every mention of a limb and when he turned the sound on and heard a whooshing sound he described it as a heart.

I swallowed hard at that. I felt my eyes tear up and when he was done, he printed out a small picture of the blob on the screen and handed it to me. We learned that I was in fact ten weeks and four days pregnant.

It cleaved at my heart as I stared down at what looked like an abnormal bean on the picture. When the counselor came in, Chloe asked all of the questions but heard barely any of it. I was too distracted by the thought of a living, breathing bean inside of me. One that was made with a guy I couldn't stop thinking about

When we left with all of the paperwork I didn't know what to say to Chloe. My thoughts were a jumbled mess. She wanted me to set up an appointment for the abortion so she would know when we would skip school for it, but I just shrugged. I felt lost.

My mom had struggles with getting pregnant l of her life. She had miscarriage after miscarriage and after a while had just given up. I was a miracle. I happened way late in both of my parent's lives when neither of them had expected it.

And here I was, pregnant after my first time. I felt guilty and sick to my stomach at not even telling James about it. But at the same time, we were both still too young. He had just turned eighteen and I was about to turn eighteen in December. He was dead set on an Ivy League school and had plans for his future.

It was one of the main reasons I had to cut him out of my life. I just didn't know how I could go through with an abortion after seeing it. After knowing that it was really there, growing inside of me.

Chloe and I went back to school and I zombied my way through classes trying to figure out why I was suddenly getting cold feet about a decision that I needed to make for my future. Seeing James in class was probably the most difficult part after the appointment. He had resumed sitting next to me, but didn't bother trying to talk to me after I told him why I cut him out.

He still looked at me a bunch and today was no different, except this time when he did I felt like I couldn't breathe. It got so bad that I got up in the middle of class and just left. Danforth called for me to sit back down but I couldn't. I felt so f*cking lost.

I went home after that and just wallowed in self pity for the rest of the afternoon. I stared at the ultrasound photo and found myself crying. Not full on sobs, just tears streaming down my face randomly.

I skipped school the next day and called my uncle to let him know I did because I wasn't feeling well. He just told me to get better soon and to keep him updated. I skipped Friday as well, which was a half day anyways, but I couldn't make myself face him again. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and we wouldn't have school for the whole next week so I had plenty of time to sift through my f*cked up and scary feelings about being pregnant and possibly getting an abortion.

Chloe came by to check on my over the weekend before her and her family left for Milwaukee where her older brother lives with his wife and kids.

I knew that she knew what I was thinking, but didn't seem inclined to make any comments about it. She just sat with me and watched movies and we pretended, just for a little bit, that my life wasn't falling apart before my very eyes.

Being alone after Chloe left was heartbreaking. Every Thanksgiving I spent with my cousins in California and now, after dad's death, nothing was the same. This year just seemed like a crap shoot.

I was spending it all alone.

My cousins hadn't even bothered to call me to set anything up with me. I felt forgotten. I could probably die over the holiday and no one would even be the wiser. The days passed by painfully slow and the night before Thanksgiving, I finally snapped.

I had laid around feeling sorry for myself. Crying and acting a victim when instead I should be trying to fix it. So around dinner time, I made my way to the grocery store to see what I could get to make myself a Thanksgiving meal.

I pulled up a few recipes and grabbed everything I could find to prepare pies, mashed potatoes, a chicken, because thawing out a turkey was out of the question, stuffing and green bean casserole.

I spent the rest of the evening preparing the pies. I was able to successfully make a pumpkin pie, not entirely from scratch, but it came out looking like the real deal. I also made a sweet potato pie, even though I didn't even know how it tasted, just because it was my dad's favorite.

I sat in my kitchen, covered in pumpkin puree, smiling down at my masterpiece pies and felt proud of myself.

The next morning, I didn't have as much confidence in the actual cooking part of the rest of the meal, but started my morning off roasting the chicken in the oven and by the time lunchtime rolled around, I stared proudly at the table full of food and took a picture of it all.

Some dishes looked like crap. My green bean casserole looked like absolute crap and I had burnt the chicken a little because I forgot about it in the middle of making yeast rolls.

But in all, it looked edible. After I took the picture, I stared at all of the food and felt my proud smile drop. I made everything. I spent part of last night and all morning making so much food for what?

I sat dejectedly down at the dining room table and felt the all too familiar sting in the corners of my eyes. I sat back in my chair and groaned loudly.

I had cooked a full family dinner without a family to share it with. I sat in front of the food, not even feeling hungry anymore and laid my head on the table.

I looked through all of the pictures of food I had in my phone and felt my heart squeeze when I got to a picture I hadn't even taken. It was a selfie of James. He had taken it the day at the grocery store when he had confessed to being with Pink Streak.

I stared at his eyes behind his glasses and the small gap in between his front teeth. It was a sad smile that didn't meet his eyes. He probably took it right after I showed him the pictures of him with Pink Streak.

I smoothed my finger over his cheek on the phone and sighed. I went to his number in my phone and unblocked him.

'Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you have a great day!'

I didn't expect a reply so quickly. It came in before I could even put my phone down.

'Hey! Happy Thanksgiving to you too! How's it going?'

'It's going. Yours?'

'Great! Completely full. How about you?'

'Haven't eaten yet. Not feeling up to it.'

'Oh, I'm sorry. Are you and your mom with your uncle?'

'No. He had some important business in DC. Stayed home this year.'

'Oh, well that's alright. Did you at least have some Thanksgiving food? My mom made a ton, I could bring you and your mom a plate.'

I sent him photos of my layout and felt my eyes brimming with tears.

'I'm all set. Made it myself.'

'Wow. Are you for real? Or did your mom help you?'

I don't know what compelled me to tell him, but I was getting irritated with him asking about her.

'My mom is still in jail. It's just me. I made it all myself.'

After I hit send, I felt instant regret. I sat up and waited for his response.

'Wait? What do you mean still? I thought she was out?'

'My uncle couldn't get her out. He got her shorter time, but she's still in there. She will be until March.'

'Are you by yourself?'

I stood up and walked out of the dining room full of food and into the very messy kitchen.

'Yes.'

'Like...no one else at all?'

'That's what by myself means.'

He didn't respond.

After waiting for a few minutes, I knew he wasn't going to. So I got up and began cleaning the kitchen. I had only gotten the island cleared when my front doorbell rang. I knew it was him. I had know the moment I told him about my mom that he would come over.

Maybe, in a way, I wanted him to. I took a deep breath and opened the front door. He stood in front of me in a light blue button down shirt and jeans. His hair was still a floppy mess and his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes full of concern.

"Hey, can I come in?"

I cleared my throat and nodded. I let him inside and he walked past me into the entryway. After I shut the door I couldn't seem to face him.

"Have you been alone since she was arrested?"

"Yes." I glanced up at him and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"And add that to the list of things of why you should stay away?"

"It's not funny, Kelly. I've been worried about you. I knew something was up before Halloween, but I just figured you were embarrassed because of your mom going Hulk smash in your car. I didn't know it was this."

"I know." I shrugged and rubbed my arms. I hadn't planned on anyone coming so all I was wearing was a spaghetti shirt and pajama shorts.

"What about your uncle? Has he been here with you?"

"No. He's come twice to check on me. But I convinced him to let me stay to finish off my senior year. He had conditions, which is one of the reasons I couldn't go to the Halloween party."

"So, let me get this straight, you've been here, alone, for almost a full month?"

I nodded again and shrugged. "Yeah."

"And then you cut me off."

"I already told you why. That was the truth."

"You left school on Wednesday and didn't come in Thursday or Friday. Why?"

I felt myself blush. "I just wasn't feeling it."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "So, why didn't you at least tell me you were alone for the f*cking holiday? You could have come over."

"Was Pink Streak there?"

His jaw ticked and he glared at a spot over my shoulder.

"Did you really make food?"

I smiled and nodded. "Do you want to see?"

I began walking towards the dining room and heard him follow me with an exasperated sigh. When I got to the dining room I spread my arms wide and watched his face.

His eyebrows raised and he looked at all of it. "Is that a chicken?"

"The turkey wasn't going to be thawed, so I made chicken instead. I went on a late run to the store last night for this stuff."

"You should have told me." He muttered as he walked around the table and looked at all of the food. He picked up a yeast roll and sniffed it then took a bite.

I bit my lip, waiting for his verdict. He nodded slowly, impressed and I grinned.

"You like it?"

"It's not store bought?"

"No. I made those from scratch."

"Damn. That's bad a*s. It's good. He looked around and theb sat down by the head of the table.

"You got plates?"

"You're going to eat?"

"I don't see why not. The food is made. No point in letting it go to waste." I felt my bottom lip quiver and I smiled. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of plates, spoons, forks and a couple of cans of soda. I brought them all back and sat at the head of the table next to him.

"You said you were stuffed."

I set his plate in front of him. He dug into the mashed potatoes with his fork and put some on his plate and then grabbed mine.

"I'm a black hole, Kelly. I can eat more."

I watched him put all of the food on our plates and then he sat down. He grabbed the least burnt part of the chicken for the both of us.

We both took a few bites of each thing and I began laughing.

"What?"

"This chicken is dry as hell."

"Yeah. I was just going to grin and bare it, but it is. The green bean casserole is good though. And the mashed potatoes.The stuffing kind of sucks though. If you want an honest opinion."

I grinned and nodded. "Yeah. It does. My aunt makes it usually and her's is amazing. I just found this recipe online."

We ate but I was only able to eat a little bit. My nausea was in and out all day and I didn't want to push it.

"The gravy is sh*t." I mixed the gravy and cringed at the goopiness.

"Yeah. But don't put yourself down. Your mashed potatoes and green beans casserole are good. And we still haven't tasted the pies. Oh! And the rolls are my favorite."

I watched him eat and felt that yearning in my heart for him. He served us each a slice of both pies and both of them actually tasted good. Byvthe end of it, I was feeling the nausea a little more and excused myself.

When I came back, he was in the kitchen stacking dishes with his sleeves rolled up. I had a sudden urge to hug him, but I didn't want to make things awkward so I settled for helping him wash the dishes.

After that he helped me put up the leftover food. When everything was done I felt like he was going to leave, so I started to pull away from the small talk and kind of shut myself off so that it wouldn't feel bad when he did.

He seemed to have noticed and turned around, draping a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

"Do you want to watch a movie or something? I have nothing else to do and kind of feel like lounging." I smiled at his not so subtle attempt at trying to make me feel better.

I nodded and told him to go ahead and I was going to go get a blanket and some pillows. It felt so familiar and I knew it would only be for an evening, but I wanted to make it last.

I walked into the livingroom and froze when I noticed he had grabbed the book I had been reading over the weekend. I had shoved my ultrasound in the book as a placeholder because it had become my obsession to carry it around with me and see it from time to time.

He was staring at it now, and I felt my heart in my throat.