“Boys are stupid,” said Brielle.
“They can be,” said her mother in a neutral tone of voice. She waited patiently for Brielle to get to the point. Brielle sighed again.
“Do you think Damon ever loved me, mommy?” asked Brielle. Her mother was silent for a few moments. Then she sighed, too.
“I cannot answer that question,” Mrs. Bronson said. “What do you think?”
“I thought that he did,” said Brielle. She fingered her loose hair. Now that swim was over, she’d had the tresses straightened and curled. “I believed him when he said so. But then he dumped me over the phone and made it seem like I did something. He didn’t even tell me that he got another girl pregnant.”
“Well, I have to say, dumping you over the phone was a rotten thing to do,” said Mrs. Bronson. “He should have at least told you what was going on. You want me to go kill his simple butt for you?”
Brielle laughed. “No, mommy, but thanks.”
“You want me to hate him for you?”
“No, I don’t hate him,” said Brielle, sobering.
“Why not?” asked her mother. “He treated you like crap.”
“I don’t know,” said Brielle. “Mommy, do you think I’m too young to be in love?”
Her mother sighed.
“No, baby,” she said. “Even though you are very young, I would never dismiss your feelings. I’m sure you do care for this boy very deeply. And from what I saw, he liked you, too,-”
“He said that he loved me,” interrupted Brielle.
“Talk is easy. Walk is harder,” said her mother.
“Okay?”
“He meant it when he said it, probably. He seems like a nice young man. But seventeen year old boys are not that mature, babe. He was probably pretty overwhelmed by the situation. Most people would be. He was probably scared and hurt and ashamed. So instead of behaving like a man, which he is not, he panicked and you got hurt.”
Her mom got up from the couch and went into the kitchen. She yanked open the freezer door and pulled out two chocolate covered ice creams on a stick. She closed the freezer and came back into the family room. She handed one of the ice cream bars to Brielle and sat back down on the couch next to Brielle.
“Chocolate therapy,” she said.
“Are you mad at him, mommy?” asked Brielle. She took a bite out of her ice cream bar.
“A little,” said Mrs. Bronson. “I’m angry because you got hurt. I want to beat him in the head with my fist for hurting you. I want to beat him for being stupid. But on the other hand, I want to hug the boy, because I know that he must be going through it right now.”
“I kind of feel like that, too,” said Brielle.
“Having a baby at seventeen is no joke,” said her mother. “I’m also relieved that you are not the girl he got pregnant.”
“Me, too,” said Brielle. She turned back to the television and leaned against her mother. “So, how should I treat him when I see him at school?”
“Honestly,” said her mother, putting an arm around Brielle’s shoulders. “Go with how you feel. But if you are going to be constantly busting his chops, let it go. Don’t deal with him at all. It’s not worth your happiness.”
Brielle nodded, took another bite of her ice cream and sighed.
Damon
At midnight, Damon stared at the ceiling. He’d been sleeping with a night light, as though he was a small child again. The little light made a diamond pattern on the wall that gave him comfort. He felt shrouded in darkness most of the time and if his room was totally dark at night he woke up sweating and short of breath. His sister wasn’t speaking to him at all. His mother was worried about him, but his father had told him that the insomnia would pass when he accepted that he was going to be a father and the baby was born. His brother Dexter told him to get some sleep now because when the baby came, it was over. Damon wished with his whole being that his mind would shut down so that he could, too. He’d never felt such exhaustion in his life. Damon’s cell phone rang and he answered immediately, knowing that it was Sasha.
“What?” he asked.
He could hear heavy breathing and moaning.
“Sasha,” he said. “Quit playing on the phone.”
She’d been calling him every night, trying to get him to talk to her, trying to get him to agree about their future together. Damon had told her in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t trying to be with her. He’d gone to the prenatal classes and he was going to be in the delivery room. He was going to take care of the baby, but he wasn’t going to be with Sasha. She still didn’t believe him and called him so much that he’d started turning his cell phone off. Tonight, he’d turned the phone on, and punched in Brielle’s number. He wanted to talk to her so badly that he could smell her scent in the air. Right before he pushed send call, his courage deserted him. He pushed cancel.
The ring tone on the phone in his hand brought him back to the present.
“What, Sasha?” he said, voice harsh with unshed tears.
“It’s time to have the baby, Damon,” said Sasha, in a shallow, pain-filled voice. “Meet me and ma at the hospital.”
“Okay,” said Damon. Every thought that he had was wiped out of his brain. His head felt blank white, the absence of all color or sensation. He sat on the bed for a long time before he got his bearings enough to think about moving.
Damon didn’t think that he could drive. His legs felt like jelly and
