Target on Our Backs (Monster in His Eyes 3)

"If he doesn't come back—"

"Don't think that way," she says, cutting me off. "You can't think that way, Karissa."

Pushing away, I sit back on the floor and pull my legs up, wrapping my arms around my knees. Silent tears stream from my eyes. I don't even know I'm crying until I feel them on my cheeks. "I'm just… I'm just so tired of never having the ground under me. I feel like we're free falling, and everything around us just keeps moving in a blur, and I don't know how to make it slow down so we can land on our feet."

"I know," she says quietly, "but that's what happens when you fall in love with a force of nature."

I tilt my face, looking up at her.

She smiles sadly. "Look, I get it… I don't know really what Ignazio is like. I know the guy he wants me to know, and really, I don't think he wants me to know any part of him, but he tolerates me… because of you. So I know that side of him. And he's… intense. I'm not saying he's not nice, because he's never been not nice, but he's overwhelming. Honestly, Karissa, the man scares the shit out of me. But you love him, and I know you do… I can tell you do… because he's all consuming. It was like he got inside of you, and he gripped tight, and there's no way to get him out again unless we rip half of you out along with it. He's a force of nature. So it's really no surprise a shitstorm follows him, you know?"

I don't know what to say as I stare at her, absorbing those words. She's never made quite so much sense before. She does heavy better than I thought.

"Guess all those classes are paying off," I mumble. "You'll be the greatest philosopher of our generation."

She laughs. "I'm pretty sure Kanye already holds that title. Haven't you heard?"

I smile at that. "I'm sure we've all heard."

"So, yeah, I know you're fed up or whatever," she says, holding her hand out toward me, to help me up, "but you gotta keep your head up."

I get to my feet, shaking my head. "Tupac."

"Who happens to be the greatest philosopher of the twentieth century," she says. "Screw Wittgenstein and Sellers and Rawl… Pac is where it's at."

I appreciate her trying to lighten the mood, and it almost works, almost distracts me from reality, but a loud banging coming from the dorm room overshadows everything.

Oh my God.

I push right past Melody, darting into the room, almost knocking Kimberly over as the girl heads for the door. She backs up, hands up, muttering angrily, but I don't listen to what she's saying.

Yanking the door open, my heart stops.

It stops for just a second.

It's the worst pain I've ever felt.

It's like the world stopped turning, nothing more existing, before everything kick-starts back into gear. It nearly knocks the breath from my lungs when I see him standing right there.

Naz.

He doesn't move. I don't give him a chance to come inside. The rush of emotions, of adrenaline, of hormones, is just too much to bottle up. I let out a cry as I fling myself at him, knocking into him hard, shoving him further out into the hallway.

He's here.

He's alive.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around me.

He holds me tight.

"California," I mumble against his chest.

He's quiet for a moment before asking, "What about it?"

"That's where I wanna go."

Another moment of silence. His hand comes to rest in my hair, pinning me against him as he kisses the top of my head. "If that's what you want."

It is.

It's all a blur after that. Naz thanks Melody. I'm too much of a mess to say anything. We leave and walk right out of the dorms, his hands never leaving me. His car is haphazardly double parked out front. It's pitch black out. Midnight? Maybe later.

The clock keeps on continuing to tick.

It brought him back to me this time.

He opens the passenger door but I stall there, clutching tightly to his hand, not getting in. Tears continue to stream from my eyes, and I really want to stop them, but son of a bitch... I can't.

He pauses, too, using his free hand to brush the tears from my face. "Hey, now... it's okay. I told you I'd be back."

"I know, but—"

I can't even finish.

I just cry harder.

My chest hurts just as much with that void again filled. Now it feels like it's going to burst, like there is not enough of me to contain all of this. My world is shipwrecked and I'm clinging to that goddamn plank, desperate to believe there's enough room for both of us to hold on. But my shoulders are heavy, too much weight pressing on my chest, and if I don't unburden myself really fucking quickly, I'm going to drown.

"But—?"

"I'm pregnant."

I blurt it so fast that it sounds like one jumbled word, a word that carries the weight of the world. Pregnant. I can feel the pressure on me lessening. Secrets are hard to keep. I've only known for a few hours myself, but every second that passed it ate away at me.

This isn't how I wanted to tell him.

I didn't know how to tell him, period, but this? This isn't how it's supposed to be. I'm not supposed to blurt it out in a bout of frightened tears.

I don't know how he's going to react. Don't know if he'll be happy, or angry, or just as shocked as me. We weren't trying. We haven't really talked about it. I was still on the pill, but I kept forgetting to take it, and I'd try to catch up later, but a lot of good that did.

Pregnant.

A baby.

Ugh, I'm gonna be sick again.

He stares at me.

And stares at me.

And stares at me some more.

I really need him to say something, but he just keeps staring, like maybe he didn't hear me. Did he? I almost blurt it out again, but I'm still crying, and the words just aren't forming like I want them to.