After we’re checked in, Lars shuffles through an old magazine and it’s pretty much what you’d expect to see in a movie. Teenage girl and teenage boy sitting at a health clinic two hours away, waiting to get a pregnancy test. I sit with my hands in my lap, twiddling my thumbs and tapping my foot on the two-toned plank floor. There is one lady, sitting across from me, with her hand on her bulging stomach. She has to be at least seven or eight months pregnant. She looks worn out and in dire need of a nap as her toddler-aged son drives a truck across her tennis shoes.
He makes a car sound as he goes across, then back. “Vroom. Vroom. Vroom.”
Lars looks at me with a grin. “You ready for that?” His eyes shuffle to the boy.
Biting my lip, I snicker, “Ready or not.”
“Willa?” The nurse calls from the open door. She’s wearing a pair of black scrubs and her top has bumblebees on it. I look at Lars and suppress a laugh. When he smiles back, I know that he read my mind. “How are you two doing today?” she asks, ever so sweetly.
“Wonderful. Thank you.” I follow behind her and Lars follows behind me. I jump when he pokes a finger into my side and makes a buzzing sound. Swatting behind me, as I continue to walk, I miss him. When I glance over my shoulder, his hands are in his pockets and my heart doubles in size.
Being in this situation feels far too intimate for us. What if they have me undress for a pap smear? My heart begins to beat rapidly, hammering against my breastbone. What if they do a breast exam? Suddenly, this isn’t feeling like no big deal.
The nurse gestures Lars into an open room and takes me around the corner to get my weight and vitals. “Step on.”
Once my weight is checked, she cuffs my arm and sticks a pulse ox on my finger. “Blood pressure is slightly low but that’s pretty normal. Pulse is great. Now, before we re-enter the room, I have to ask, have you been a victim of sexual abuse?”
My eyes widen and my heart pretty much stops. I sure am glad she checked my blood pressure and pulse before asking this question. “No.” I lie.
“And what about domestic abuse?”
“No.” I lie, again.
“Great. Follow me to the bathroom and I’ll need you to pee in this cup. Once you’re done, please head back to the room and I’ll join you shortly.”
“There won’t be any exams will there?”
“Nope. Just the test and if it’s positive, we’ll do a quick blood draw in the lab and then you’ll be done.” She points to the bathroom.
“Thank you.”
I do my business, scribble my name on the cup and stick it in the cute little door in the bathroom then head to the room.
Lars is slouched back in a chair with his legs spread and his face in his phone. I’m pretty sure he didn’t even hear me come in until my shoes squeak against the floor. His head lifts. “All good?”
I hop on the bed, wrinkling the paper underneath my butt. “Now we wait.”
The room is full of posters in front of a giant rainbow painted on the wall. One talks about the different trimesters, another talks about safe sleeping for the baby, there's one with the different types of STDs, and a domestic violence helpline number.
I almost called one of those numbers once. Sometimes, I wish I had.
The door opens and the nurse steps inside, shutting it behind her. “Your test confirms that you are in fact pregnant. Congratulations.”
I’m tempted to stick my tongue out at Lars, but I refrain from the childish act.
“Here is a lab slip.” She hands me a piece of paper. “The lab is through the main entrance at the end of a hallway. We’ll call the number on file when the results are ready. Where would you like the prescription for your vitamins called in?”
Without even lifting his head from his phone, Lars answers, “Wherever’s closest.”
The nurse scribbles something on a piece of paper then hands it to me. “This is the address for the nearest pharmacy. Give them about twenty-minutes. Congrats, again,” she says before leaving.
Once she’s out the door, I do it. Crinkling my nose, I stick my tongue out at him. Call me childish, but he deserves it.
His pearly white teeth flash a smile and he hooks an arm around my neck. “Come on, let’s go get that needle stuck in your arm so they can drain your blood.”
“Eww. That’s so gross.”
“You think that’s bad. Wait until you push that baby out of you. I saw a video—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “Don’t go there. I prefer to go in blind.” I still can’t believe he’s been researching pregnancy.
Snapping out of those thoughts, I remind myself why I’m doing this. It’s because of what he did. But, the more time I spend with him, the memories and pain I endured begin to fade and are getting replaced by the new ones we are making. Most of the time, I completely forget. I guess part of me is beginning to forgive him, but it still doesn’t change anything. I still have to go. No matter how much it’s going to hurt when I do.
17
Lars has been gone ever since we got back from the appointment. Said he had to deal with some stuff for his dad and then he had class. Christmas break starts soon, so today is his last day at the school. The realization that I’ll be spending the holidays alone leaves an unexpected ache in my chest.
Lying with my back on the bed, I start missing him. Wishing he was here. I’m probably just craving the company because I’ve
