Page 32 of Beautiful Trauma
“You are such a middle school mean girl, you know that?”
His grin spread wider.
Later that night, as was customary, I crawled into his bed to tell him his bedtime story.
* * *
Then:
I had one more year of college. Eli worked on his sobriety while I worked on being less of a hot mess, and we spoke as often as possible until I came home after graduation.
Being home from college after graduation brought back the reality of my dysfunctional family. My sister was off to get a doctorate to avoid it. I was sick of living in her shadow. Where my parents didn’t seem to give a fuck what I did as long as it didn’t generate bad press, Eleanor was my dad’s puppet and he hovered over her.
Naturally, I tried to burn that bridge too. I couldn’t see that she was trying to avoid the dysfunction. I just saw her as another person who should have cared that I was a mess but didn’t notice.
And I guess that’s why I fucked her future husband. Mason and Eleanor had been friends since birth. My whole life, I was well aware of the fact that they would get married. I don’t know what I expected to gain by sleeping with him, but unbeknownst to me, I had a runaway IUD, and we were both too stupid to use condom.
The morning after, I came to my senses and felt like shit. Mason and I agreed that no-one had to know. He had done it because he was mad at her for his own reasons. With a lecture about not ruining my life with drugs, he patted me on the head like the little sister I would be someday and sent me on my way.
I backed away from the alcohol once more, deciding that I needed to get my shit together and do something with my life. Which was a good thing because about a month later, I realized I was pregnant.
“This is your third nap today, Katie.” Eli sat beside me and ran his hand down my back in concern.
“I’m just catching up on five years of no sleep. And Cee. Call me Cee. Katie doesn’t exist anymore.” I snuggled deeper into my blankets.
Eli flashed me a smirk. “You’ll always be my Katie, you crazy bitch.” He pulled the blanket off my face. “I’m just saying, maybe you’re sick or something.”
“I’m just tired, Eli.”
A few hours later when I woke up, Eli was curled up in the bed fast asleep beside me. A wave of nausea hit, and I ran to the bathroom to puke my guts out. From my vantage point on the floor next to the toilet, I noticed my box of tampons and realized:
I missed my period.
“Oh, no, no, no,” I whispered to myself.
“You okay?” Eli knocked lightly on the door.
I brushed my teeth and opened the door. Eli stood there waiting for me. “No, Eli. I’m not okay.” His face went from looking somewhat concerned to downright alarmed. “I think I may be pregnant.”
“No way. Who have you been with? Someone at school? Here?”
I knew exactly who it was. There was only one possibility. Since my last period, I had only had sex once. With Mason. My sister’s future husband. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Let’s just make sure it’s true.” He grabbed his shoes and put them on.
“Where are you going?” I knew the answer, but I didn’t like it.
“I’ll be back soon. Just sit tight.”
“It can wait. Don’t go.” I grabbed his hand, trying to keep him from leaving me with this new revelation.
He promised he’d be back soon, leaving a kiss on my cheek before he walked out the door. For twenty-five minutes, I sat on my bed trying to do the period math and coming up with the same answer. My period was late.
Eli made me take the test as soon as he got back. The whole idea of it gave me a mild panic attack, which he talked me through, rubbing a hand on my back.
When it came back positive, we just stared at each other.
“How many possibilities are we talking about here?” he asked, his eyes closed, and fists clenched.