Baby Steps

Chapter Two

Bella

     It's quite dreadful because never would I thought of being back anywhere near a university. The past memories of my time as a student was thrilling while it lasted but seeing these students walking around with books in their hands as they talk about their assignments and school work, I don't think I can get over the fact that I've left this behind me . . . way, way, long ago. 

     Adam had sent me an address to this exact café in the campus area which makes me wonder, why would we be meeting near his work area? Well, it would explain very well if he is a professor—they don't really have enough time in their hands. 

     I sit still in my seat, legs crossed with a pair of sunglasses blocking my view. 

     It has been ten minutes since I've arrived and there is no sign of Adam. I'm not really complaining about his lack of punctuality but as a busy woman myself, time is as precious as it can get. I appreciate it when people learn to respect each other's time, knowing well enough that everyone has the same twenty-four hours in a day but spend them differently. 

     The key to my success: time management. I've been keen to keeping track of time. It explains why I keep on glancing down at my wrist watch, feeling a bit anxious about this whole situation. I'm not really sure if I'm a bit frustrated for waiting or am I nervous at the thought of seeing him again? It was a brief encounter regardless of it being s****l.

     "Bella?" A familiar voice calls out my name, which causes me to turn around and see him. 

     Adam is standing there in his plaid shirt with one hand in his jeans' pocket, looking at me with a smile on his face. His hair has grown slightly longer than the last time I saw him but he seems to be managing it well. He has a backpack on his back and a couple of books in the other hand, making me gaze back up to his face. 

     "I'm sorry, I didn't think my class—" 

     I cut him off by standing up, shaking my head. "This is a mistake." 

     "Wait, Bella!" 

     He keeps on calling me as I walk away, not wanting to deal with this anymore. That night was a mistake and being here right now, trying to tell him the truth is a bigger mistake. For f**k's sake, how can I drag a boy into this mess?! What was I thinking? There is no such thing as going according to plan. 

     I hold tightly onto my handbag, trying to fasten my steps but he manages to catch up with me; immediately standing in front, blocking my way before grabbing a hold of my forearm. 

     "What do you think you're doing?" I roughly pull my hand away, looking around. 

     "I'm sorry." He holds both of his hands up as he keeps on looking at me, "It's just that you called me and you told me there is something important. I'm sorry for making you wait but I'm here now," 

     "I did call you but I just realised that I shouldn't have. Look, let's just forget I even called." I reply, walking away from him but he continues to block my way—making me look up into his eyes after taking off my sunglasses. 

     Our eyes meet again for the first time in weeks and for a second, it did hit me with memories of that night. I just can't let myself drown with unnecessary thoughts. It was a mistake, it was my mistake and I have to own it. I'll deal it myself and he doesn't even have to know. Besides, he has his whole life ahead of him. 

     A baby. My pregnancy. He cannot be involved. 

     "Did I do something wrong?" He frowns, completely confused.

     "You didn't. I just have to go," I reply, after staying silent for a few seconds. This time, my voice is lower because I realise, I was overreacting. "I didn't mean to call you. I'm sorry," Just as I'm about to walk away, he takes a few steps forward to catch me but his next question is what stops me in my tracks. 

     "Can I at least buy you a cup of coffee?" He asks.

     I stand still before turning to look at him, feeling guilty. Maybe, it's the look on his face or the way he is just standing there . . . awkwardly, trying to think of ways to understand. I don't blame him either, he's probably clueless to why this is happening. He's just a kid. 

     A kid . . . is another word for it. He's a young adult, way, way, young. What had gotten into me that night? Was it really all the alcohol? Why did I let myself be in that situation? I can never remember it clearly but I can say, I regret that moment. I regret that I enjoyed that night—to think back that this guy standing in front of me is the same guy that made me screamed to my c****x, is unbelievable. 

     Then again, here we are, sitting in a café. 

     Adam glances at my face for a few times as he clears his throat, holding onto his cup of coffee. He seems out of place, awkward even, probably a bit nervous. He is curious and that's for sure, he wants to know what the hell is going on at the moment but he chooses to keep quiet, probably surprised himself that I seem to be older than I appeared that night. 

     The sun does a good job at showing our facial features instead of the club's strobing lights. 

     I take a sip of my drink, "How old are you?" 

     "Twenty-one this year," He replies, clearing his throat, again. 

     "You do know, I am, way older than you?" 

     Great, Bella. I ended up scaring this guy or just made the situation appear more awkward. I can't believe I have said 'awkward' more than two times now. It is very unusual of me—what am I even doing? At this hour, I'd be at the office trying to settle cases or even drowning myself in books and laws. I shouldn't be here, trying to tell a twenty-one year old kid that he got some old woman, pregnant. 

     "I—I don't understand." He stutters, frowning.

     "Do you remember what happened that night?" I ask.

     He looks directly into my eyes before looking away, "A few. I remember waking up in the morning and you weren't there," 

     "Because I realised that it was a mistake." 

     Suddenly, the silent is a bit too loud as we both stare at each other. I don't know if my response was a bit too harsh or it was just the truth. 

     I lean back on my seat, trying to take a couple of deep breaths as he continues to look at me. Honestly, I don't know why I am being rude to him because as far as we both know, he didn't exactly do anything wrong. That was a night we didn't expect and I should've taken an emergency contraception pill but I didn't because I immediately got back to work, forgotten all about it. 

     I don't remember if we had protected or unprotected s*x but according to what had happened and how I ended up being pregnant, it's clear we didn't use protection. It's clear I had skipped my birth control pill that day. It is very, very clear, that this whole situation is stressing me out. 

     "I—I just want to know if I did something wrong because I'm really clueless to what's happening, right now." He says, his brown eyes directly piercing into my blue ones. For once, I realise that he is definitely correct; he deserves to know what's going on and that is the main reason why I'm here. 

     The plan is to tell him about the pregnancy. Then, I'd walk away because there is no use of having him involved in my life matters. At this very age, I am capable of raising a child on my own. He needs no part in it. 

     I grab the pregnancy test in my handbag, gripping hard onto it as I hesitate—it's now or never. It's either I let this whole thing go, walk out of the café and never see him again or tell him the truth, let him have the right to know before I leave. It's simple but why do I keep hesitating? Why do I feel as if he doesn't need to know? Why do I have this feeling that it'll ruin his life?

     What makes me believe that he'd want part in this? 

     Come on, Bella . . . he's young, he's thriving, he'd be the one to walk out as soon as you told him. It's the reality. I've been with guys and I know better. There is no point in trying to believe anyone would want to worry about this. Besides, I'd always be fine on my own. 

     I slowly place it on the table, causing him to look down as he frowns—taking a few seconds to probably sink it in before looking back at me. 

     "I—I, what?" He asks, completely confused. 

     "I'm pregnant."