Fan Fiction ❯ Just As Innocent ❯ Chapter 4 ( Chapter 4 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

"You don't look so happy," Sonya commented as I flopped onto the bus seat she had saved for me. "Bad morning?" 

"Sorta," I replied. "My mom and I... well, we kind of had a disagreement. She thinks I should..." Not wanting to over heard, I glanced around nervously before finishing my sentence. I overreacted. Everyone else was far too absorbed in their own conversations to be listening in on mine. 

"She thinks I should get a pregnancy test," I said, leaning in and whispering as quietly as I could. At the word "pregnancy," Sonya's eyes widened. 

"Does the doctor say you need one?" 

"No, he just thinks it would be a good idea," I replied, leaning back on the worn green seat behind me. 

"Actually, the possibility of that happening in slim to none," Amber added in. I looked up curiously. 

"That's what my mom said." 

At this point, I'd pretty much gotten back into the regular school routine. Still worried now and then about how far the information my mom gave the principle and the nurse went from their offices. But in any case, it had been over a month since the whole incident, and no one had said anything to me about it. And I was content to let it be forgotten. Pregnancy test, yeah right. What a stupid thought. I needed to try and move on with my life, not stay stuck in the past. 

Still, I couldn't shake this nervous feeling I had that distracted me for most of the day. What if I really was pregnant? What would I do? Stop being ridiculous, Vicky. You know that's not possible. I recited those words to myself at least a million times before the school day ended. I think I might have even replied in math class that the solution to 2X times 3Y squared was "no." 

Needless to say, I came home from school that day a little worked up. 

"Fine, let's just do it and get it over with," I groaned as I walked in the door. 

"Do what?" my mother asked. 

"This stupid pregnancy test," I replied. "If it will make you happy, let's just do it." My mother nodded and walked over to me, taking my bookbag and setting it down on the floor. 

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" she asked calmly. 

"Sure I'm okay," I replied casually. "I know I'm not, so therefore there's no harm in doing it." 

"Alright," my mother said, nodding. "I'll make an appointment." As she started to leave the room, I could hear her whispering, "I hope you're not." 

"I know I'm not!" I yelled at her, despite the fact that she had only gone into the next room. I didn't mean to be that loud; I guess I was still kind of tense from the day. I went into my room and shut the door. 

A few days later, much to my own displeasure, I was sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office. I looked around the place at the pastel-colored couches, piles of sports and home management magazines, and a few puzzle games, supposedly for toddlers to keep themselves busy. I groaned. Even it was just a waiting room, I still hated hospitals. 

"Anderson?" I looked up groggily. Guess I dozed off. "Victoria Anderson?" A dainty-looking nurse holding a clipboard that apparently had my name on it stood in the door, scanning over the audience in the waiting room. I stood up. 

"I'll see you later, Mom," I muttered. She nodded, and I followed the nurse inside. She took a sample of my blood and told me to wait a few minutes while she went and analyzed the sample and I sat there listening to the elevator music that played over the loudspeaker. 

A few minutes later she was back, still holding her little clipboard and looking very serious. 

"How old are you?" the nurse asked. 

"Sixteen, I told you that," I answered. Why does she care how old I am? In a few minutes, I was going to be out of here, and none of this was going to matter to me ever again. Maybe if I really was pregnant, I could see her asking that, but... 

"Victoria, I don't want to beat around the bush with you, but your blood test came back positive. In other words, you're pregnant." 

Excuse me? I looked skeptically over at her. "That can't be right," I said, my voice shaking like a leaf. 

"I'm afraid it is right," she said. "Your about six weeks into it now..." I didn't let her finish. Instead, I slammed by fist onto the table and said, 

"I'm telling you, that's not right!" 

"I'm holding the results right here," she replied, more firmly in response to my little outburst. "Now, I know you're still young, but..." At that point, I kind of stopped listening to her. My heart raced as terror began to grip my body. Wasn't it enough? I had finally started to build my life together after that awful night. Even started to accept the fact that my innocence was lost to some demon who was probably still wandering the streets for all I knew. But pregnant? By him? It wasn't exactly one of those things that healed with time. 

My skin was turning a chalky white as I pondered if my life could really be falling apart this quickly. My pores built up sweat, and suddenly, without much warning, a wave of dizziness passed through my head. Then everything turned black. 

"Vicky? Victoria?" I slowly opened my eyes. I passed out - I can't believe it. I never pass out. Slowly I sat up, rubbing my head, bringing back some rather nasty memories of the last time I woke up in a hospital. Only this time, my mom was the one standing over me. 

"Are you alright?" she asked with concern. Did I have to humor that with an answer? 

"I haven't given your mother the results yet," the nurse told me, handing the manila folder she'd been holding earlier over to me. "They're confidential." Confidential? I thought, taking the folder in my shaking hands. Yeah, it'll be really confidential when I'm eight months pregnant. 

My mom put a gentle hand on my shoulder, interrupting my pity party. 

"Let's go," she said softly and walked with me out to the car. 

I opened the folder in the car. There were my results, written down in black and white just in case I was still in denial about anything. Paper-clipped to the side of the folder was a business card. I pulled it off. 

"What's that?" my mother asked me. I looked the card over. 

"It's for an abortion center," I answered. 

"Oh."