Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)

“Hey, that’s cool. You can come hang out.”

I racked my brain for another excuse but came up empty. Partying was the last thing on my mind, but the idea of submerging myself in a loud environment had its perks. “Okay, maybe I’ll come.”

“No maybes. Say you’ll be there,” Jacob persisted.

“Fine. I’ll be there for sure. Here, plug your address into my phone,” I said, handing my cell over.

He grinned happily. I felt a twinge of guilt that he thought he stood a chance, but I’d been honest with him. What else could I do?

“See you at eight,” he said, handing my phone back before heading in the opposite direction.

“Sounds good,” I answered, although I was lying. I was already second-guessing my impulsiveness. I had no business going to a party in my current state.

The rest of my afternoon was spent weighing the pros and cons of going to the party. One moment, I would decide not to go, and five minutes later, I would rationalize that although I was pregnant, that didn’t mean I was dead. It was only after Melissa showed up to our room and accidentally let it slip that Justin had a date that I finally made up my mind. She apologized profusely for telling me, but I reassured her it was fine. It was just clarification that he wasn’t there for me and probably never would be.

With my mind now made up, I grabbed my clothes and headed to the bathroom to get ready for Jacob’s party. I was in the shower when Melissa knocked on the door.

“Come in,” I called out.

“Hey, so Rob and I are going to see that new scary movie that’s supposed to be pretty decent. Do you want to go with us?”

“Can’t. I’m going to a party.”

“You are?” she asked, sounding pleased.

“Yeah. You know Jacob Miller? It’s his party.”

“That’s good. You’ve been cooped up in our room for weeks.”

“I haven’t felt like getting out much,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Maybe Rob can set you up . . .” She trailed off as I pulled the shower curtain aside to reveal my incredulous look.

“Um, Mel, have you forgotten that I’m pregnant?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said, looking sheepish. “I’m such a ditz sometimes. I forgot.”

“I wish I could,” I said wistfully, closing the shower curtain.

I could hear Melissa muttering under her breath about being an airhead before she closed the bathroom door behind her.

By the time I was finished in the bathroom, Melissa was already gone. I found another of her famous sticky notes on my dresser, apologizing for her “airheadiness.” I laughed at her made-up word. Despite everything going on in my life at the moment, I had to love Melissa. She was the one constant that kept me grounded. I didn’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have her to lean on.

Grabbing a pen, I scrawled a short return message, telling her not to be a dork, that I loved her “airheadiness” and all. I lugged my heavy book bag off the floor and dug around inside, trying to find my wallet. The pamphlets I had collected from the clinics made it damn near impossible to find anything, so I pulled them out. Sorting through them, I tossed anything dealing with STDs and safe sex into the trash can. In the end, I only kept three: one that provided a breakdown of the nine months of pregnancy, one that discussed adoption, and one about abortion. I couldn’t help grimacing at the captions and pictures of the pregnancy pamphlet. I wasn’t a wimp, but the idea of pushing a watermelon-sized human out of my body didn’t sit well. The one picture that really twisted my guts into knots showed a glowing woman holding her newborn baby in her arms. For weeks I’d refused to think about what was actually happening in my body and what I would have if I went through all nine months of pregnancy. Looking at the picture of the mother holding her baby, everything suddenly got real. In seven and a half months, that could be me. The idea frightened me to the core, but a small part of me couldn’t help feeling awestruck at the idea. My life would never be the same if I kept the baby. Everything I had worked for would change in the blink of an eye.

Next, I opened the pamphlet dealing with adoption. It was nothing but testimonials by couples who claimed my child could be the miracle they so desperately wanted. I studied their faces critically. I could go that route. I could make a difference in someone’s life. Maybe I could work it out with the school and not lose my scholarship. If I took summer classes, I could lighten my load in the fall when the baby would be due. It was at least worth checking into.

Feeling more in control than I had in weeks, I placed the pregnancy and abortion pamphlets in my bag. I debated pitching the abortion pamphlet but instead tossed it on my desk. I wasn’t completely sure which route I would choose, and I could at least read over it when I got home.

I headed out for the party, ready to escape all the heavy decisions that seemed to be saturating the room. The walk to Jacob’s apartment off campus was relatively short, and the place was easy enough to find by the noise level throbbing out of the building. I felt sympathetic to any of his neighbors who weren’t invited to the party, although judging by the number of people littered throughout the hallway and into his apartment, it looked like the whole building was there.

Loud music made the floor beneath my feet vibrate as I looked around for Jacob. Pushing into his apartment through the wall of bodies was almost overwhelming. Someone I didn’t even know handed me a red Solo cup filled to the brim with beer. My stomach turned as the smell of the beer wafted up. Trying not to breathe through my nose, I handed the cup to a willing stranger, who sucked it down like a parched survivor on a deserted island. To avoid any other alcohol handouts, I shoved my hands in my jacket pockets as I continued in vain to search for Jacob.

“Hey, aren’t you in my sex education class?” some guy slurred in my face. He grinned at me, obviously pleased with what he thought was a clever pickup line. Of course, all his charm left when he clutched my arm so he could remain upright.

“Nope,” I said, prying his fingers away from my bicep. I turned my back on him as I heard him use the same line on another girl, who giggled.

A new wave of bodies entered the apartment, making it harder to move. I was already beginning to regret my rash decision to attend the party. I hated tight spaces and I was beginning to reach my limit. A few of the faces around me looked vaguely familiar, but in truth, I really didn’t know anyone here. Inching toward the door, I decided maybe I’d crash Rob and Melissa’s date since I wasn’t in the mood to return to the dorm. I was scanning the room one last time for Jacob so I could tell him I was leaving when my eyes landed on a couple on the far side of the room.