few inches away, collapsing on the sand beside me and bursting into sobs.
Jesus H.
“Uh…” I stared at her blankly, getting more and more sober by the nanosecond. The chilly air and the train wreck also known as Dixie was like a bucket of water. She was crying so hard I thought she was going to have a heart attack or something.
“I believe it is my turn to have a meltdown, ma’am,” I pointed out dryly.
She wiped her tears away, her eyes meeting mine, zinging with fury. “You wanna know why I never mentioned your dad to you? Not because he dumped me. Or because he was married. Well, maybe. Maybe he was both those things. The truth is, I never told you about him because I don’t know his name, okay? I didn’t even know I was pregnant for the longest time.”
I scratched at my imaginary stubble. How dumb was she, exactly? How had she not known she was knocked up, and for how long?
“Explain,” I gritted out.
We were still on our knees, on the sand.
“I was a cheerleader in high school…”
“Big surprise.”
“Knight,” she warned.
I waved at her to continue.
“I was a cheerleader in high school. It was sophomore year. We got invited to a college party in Dallas through one of my friends’ older brothers. Somethin’ big. I was a good Christian girl, Knight. I didn’t want to have sex before marriage. We were dancing…drinking, but not too much. I remember feeling dizzy and sitting down. Then the next thing I remember was waking up in my own bed, feeling numb all over. My body was sore, but seeing as I’d danced all night, I didn’t think much of it. There was some spotting in my underwear, but I figured I’d gotten my period. I’d only had a couple spiked punch cups, and I drank lots of water throughout the evening. I didn’t want to start probing and asking questions, to be a problematic, hysterical chick. As far as I was concerned, everything was okay. My girlfriends had known I wasn’t feeling well, so they’d taken me home.”
Well, spank my ass and call me Sandra. I had a feeling I was about to hate myself a little more after hearing my how-did-I-get-here story. For the first time, I didn’t throw shit at her and let her finish.
She took a deep breath. “Three months later, the symptoms started. They were creeping in on me slowly. You were so smart, Knight.” She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “Even in the womb. I was hungry all the time, and my breasts were tender. I didn’t have any nausea or anything, so at first, I chalked it up to hormones. I remember polishing off two plates of chicken fried steak and my mama telling me I ate like a pregnant girl, and that’s when I remembered I hadn’t had my period in a while. The next day, I went to buy a pregnancy test. I told myself there wasn’t a chance I was pregnant. I’d never had sex in my life, and when you’re young, your period is not always regular. Imagine how shocked I was when all three tests were positive.”
I hung my head, drawing in a breath. I had to admit, she was unlucky more than she was an asshole.
“I dug into my memory, trying to figure out what happened. Then I remembered the party. I went and confronted my friend’s older brother, the one who threw the party, but he was cagey and insisted no one had touched me, said I was making it up because I wanted to pin the pregnancy on some frat boy with a rich daddy. The news about my pregnancy broke. My parents were crushed. They couldn’t show their faces at church. Neither could I. I dropped out of cheer. My grandmamma stopped taking my calls, crossed the street when she saw me walking by. My friends took a step back. Nobody wanted my reputation to rub off on them. Two weeks after I became public enemy number one, I found a note in my locker. Anonymous.”
She reached for her bag and hunted inside it, producing her purse. She sniffed as she explained as an afterthought, “I take it with me everywhere I go. Every time I think about you, Knight, and feel like I don’t deserve to live in this world for giving you up, I read this. Horrible, I know. I’m not proud of it either, you understand? Just because