Seventeen Years Ago
I can’t believe I’ve ended up here. The doorbell chimes and I clutch my tatty patchwork owl to me. I don’t want to answer the door. I want to hide and pretend none of this is happening. The doorbell sounds again, its stupid tune ringing in my ears. I take a breath and shove my abandoned homework out of the way.
My hand shakes as I turn the latch on the front door.
‘Did you get it?’
‘Got two.’ Jackson scans the lounge. ‘Are we on our own?’
I nod and take the stairs up to my bedroom. He follows me in silence. Once in the room, he puts his school bag on my bed and pulls out two white-and-blue rectangular cardboard boxes, wrapped in cellophane.
I stare at them. I know I should feel scared or even angry, but I’m a hollow shell of nothing. Numb.
‘Should we do this now?’ He thrusts a box at me. ‘Unless you don’t want to.’ His voice cracks with uncertainty.
I’m not used to hearing him like that. Wobbly and unsure.I sneak a look at him. There’s never been a time when I haven’t loved to drink him in. His even-tanned complexion has a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of his nose and his short, dirty blond hair is a bit too long and flops towards his eyebrows, the beginnings of a wave running through it.
I try to swallow. My mouth is like sandpaper. ‘No. Let’s get this over with.’
He fumbles as he unwraps the cellophane and opens the box. Handing me the white stick with a blue cap, he follows me to the bathroom door.
‘I’ll wait out here then,’ he says, sticking his hands in his pockets.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak, and pull the door shut behind me.
I’ve drunk three pints of water since coming home from school, to be sure I’d have enough wee for the job. I stick the test between my legs, praying I’m putting the right bit in the right place.
Done. I place it upside down on the side of the sink and stare at my reflection in the mirror. The foundation I put on this morning is patchy and ugly.
‘Are you done? Could you do it?’ Jackson’s voice fills the room.
I pick up the test without looking at it and walk out of the bathroom. We stand facing each other like gladiators, ready to duel.
‘What’s it say?’ His voice is gruff and my hand tightens around the pregnancy test.
‘Don’t know. We’ve got to wait for it to work.’ My voice comes out in a whisper.
On the same wavelength, we turn our backs to the landing wall and sink to the floor. I put the test on the carpet between us, face down, and we both stare straight ahead. His right handreaching across to curl around my left one tells me everything I need to know. I love that he’s here with me. That he hasn’t abandoned me. I squeeze his hand back.
‘We should look,’ he says, after the longest three minutes of my life.
I don’t move.
I can’t do this. A baby. An actual human being and all my plans and dreams out of the window.
‘Do you want to or should I?’ He nudges me gently.
I need to get this over with. ‘Let’s do it together.’ I reach across and pick up the stick of plastic that will determine everything. ‘Ready?’ I turn to look at him.
He gives the tiniest nod. The tension in his jaw runs down into the muscles of his neck.
I am not pregnant. I am not pregnant. I am not pregnant. I march the words through my head. I’ve said them a thousand times over the last few days. I am not pregnant.
I open up my palm flat, and Jackson turns the test over, result side up.
Chapter One
Is it strange to long for the sheer chaos that’s on display?
