THE THREAT OF A BABY

When class ends, I hang back while Mr. LeMonde gathers his papers. Carter is the first one to stalk out of the class. The other students file out quickly too, probably rushing to their next classes or skipping them entirely. I hover near his desk, my nerves taut like a stretched rubber band

“Good morning, sir,” I force out as he turns to leave.

He looks up. When his eyes meet mine, they seem to twinkle, like this isn't the first time he's seen me. I'm drawn to them. They seem to promise mischief, antics that may get me burned, but yet will enjoy as I stand in the flame. “Good morning, What's your name?”

I swallow, felling the familiar weight of shame. I strangely feel both nervous and almost turned on. “I'm Jackson. Ellie . Ellie  Jackson,” I stutter.

“Yes Ellie , what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if. . . I could change my partner.”

He leans back slightly, not looking surprised at all.“Well, it's possible. But that's a lot of stress moving people around to accommodate you so I'd need a reason, a good reason.”

I open my mouth and close it again, like a gaping fish. I can't tell him the real reason. I found out that Carter's parents are two of the four founding members of the school so it would put me right in his path, daring him to act on his threat.

Maybe I can tell him part of it. “Yes of course. To be honest, sir I just feel a little afraid of Carter. I feel like we wouldn't pair well and that would affect my grades.”

My LeMonde nods, as if completely agreeing with me. Then he walks up to me and have to look away from his eyes. He stops in front of me, standing shoulder to shoulder with me. He might even be a little taller than me, if I could just raise my eyes to check.

He places his hand on my shoulder and I almost sigh. Maybe I'm touch deprived or just very stressed because my mouth parts and I hope to God he can't hear my pants.

“I'm sorry, Ellie . But I’m sure you'll manage.”

My heart plummeting, I watch him pick up his briefcase. He turns at the door and grins at me, and suddenly I have a feeling, like he's toying with me somehow.

“Though, If there's anything else, anything at all, don't hesitate to contact me.”

I don't go to my next class, I can't risk coming in late and having Carter there looking for who to work off his anger on, or worse still run into him in the halls.

The rest of my classes, I get to early and tuck myself into the back of the class, silent.

I go home to an empty house. My parents have a date today, as they everytime they can get their days off to synch up.

Lunch is waiting in the fridge. I warm it up, eat with the TV droning on. It's only Tuesday but I feel like I've survived three weeks.

I toss the wrapper in the trash, where something bright yellow catches my eye. A baby’s smiling face looks up at me, half covered by a banana peel. I use to fingers to pick it out of the way. It’s an IVF pamphlet.

I must have stood there for ten minutes staring at the face of that random child before gently placing the banana peel over it

I shower, and get into bed. But I don't sleep, I can't. I stare at the ceiling for a long time.

My parents want to try for a baby of their own. Their very own flesh and blood.

Would they suddenly feel like there's a stranger living in their house, bumbling around causing more trouble than he's worth? I'm eighteen now, so perhaps they might just take me to college and leave me there.

They might stop loving me. And who would blame them?

-

Carter's Pov

I walk into the house late, as usual. My parents are in the living room having a very animated conversation.

“Carter, where have you been?” my mom asks sharply. I pause climbing the stairs a little take aback. They're usually too engrossed in themselves to notice these days. But, without waiting for an answer, she waves her hand. “Never mind that. Come sit.”

I obey and settle across from them, sitting side by side. There’s a strange tension in the room. Like a drawn bow, about to shoot an arrow into the fragile calm between them.

“We have news for you, honey.” She’s beaming. I don't like this. My dad, seated stiffly beside her, looks. . . blank. Not angry, not happy. Just absent, like he's blocked her out.

“What is it?” I ask slowly.

“I’m four weeks pregnant!” she announces.

My gaze darts to my dad, as the news shakes me to my core. Of all the things she could have said, I didn't expect that. But with all that's going on, maybe I should have.

“And I think it’s your father’s,” she adds with a dry, brittle laugh that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “He's been the one outside in the past month.”

They always said they might have one more kid, someone to be here when I go off to college. But his face doesn’t shift, not even a flicker of anything. He doesn't believe it's his.

I stay quiet for a while, even though my mind is screaming. What if it’s not? What this belongs to some random man, the gardener or even fucking Dante.

“Congratulations,” I say, my voice as heavy as a brick. I don't mean that, not in the slightest, but I try to add a smile. I don't think it forms all the way and I excuse myself.

I shower and get into bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe it's selfish, but I think it would be better if this baby never came. Things are so precarious right now and this might just be the wind that knocks this house of cards down.