I’m There
It’s been a week. A long week.
Seven days of pretending I’m fine, of forcing my hands to stop shaking when I’m eating and I have three pairs of eyes taking in every move I make.
I’ve spent seven days sleeping alone, curled up on my side of the bed like it’s a raft in the middle of an endless ocean.
In the dark.
With nothing but my own fears and anxiety surrounding me.
Jake’s been so preoccupied with work that it he hasn’t really been able to ask me what’s wrong, or as me how I’m feeling. Aiden has been going to school without me and his coach is getting intense, setting more practices and meetings with scouts.
We’ve all been feeling the pressures of our lives. No one pushes me, but they check in on me, regardless. They ask me if I’m okay with everything now that I’m at home instead of
school.
And I say the same thing every time. I’m fine.
I keep thinking I’ll find the courage to call the doctor, but the phone sits next to me, untouched, like it’s mocking me. I stare at it for minutes at a time, my thumb hovering
over the screen, and then I just can’t.
I’m scared. Of the answer. Of what it means. Of the questions that don’t have answers.
Homeschooling helps a little.
It gives me something to do, something to focus on that isn’t the constant nausea in my
stomach, or is that just nerves? I don’t even know anymore. I pour all of me into my
classes, maybe a little too much.
I am avoiding myself too at this point, not just the guys.
Jake still checks on me, popping his head in with a soft smile and eyes that search my face like they can read something there. Aiden lingers in doorways sometimes, not saying
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I’m There
anything, just waiting, like he’s giving me space and then waiting for me to lessen it.
Zaid is different, though.
He hasn’t asked. He hasn’t pried. He just watches me with those unreadable eyes, his touches softer than they’ve ever been. A kiss on the cheek when he leaves, his fingers brushing against mine when he passes by. It’s not nothing. It’s worse than nothing. It’s patient.
But tonight, it feels like his patience runs out.
There’s a knock on my bedroom door just as I’m finishing up the last assignment for the day. I swallow, trying to ignore the pulse in my throat. I know who it is before the door
opens.
“Yeah?” I call out, trying to keep my voice together.
The door creaks open, and Zaid stands there like he’s holding himself together with a sheer force of will. He doesn’t step inside right away. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders tight and coiled. His jaw is set, and his nostrils flare slightly, like he’s struggling to even breathe.
I can tell immediately that he’s trying to be careful with me.
“You okay?” His voice is rough. Not demanding, but raw, like it hurts him to ask.
I offer the only thing I can say. “I’m fine.”
He doesn’t believe me. His eyes flash with frustration, but he reins it in. His throat bobs as he swallows hard.
“I feel like…” He pauses, struggling to find the words, shaking his head like he hates even saying it.
I inhale, long, trying to calm my nerves as my palms begin to sweat.
“I feel like you’d tell me if you wanted me to know. But you haven’t.”
My heart rate spikes, and I press my trembling lips together. “I haven’t?”
“About the pregnancy test.”
14:28 pm
I’m There
My stomach twists.
Guilt.
Fear.
Shame.
All of it claws its way through me and makes my spine shiver. I drop my gaze to my lap, my fingers pulling at the hem of my shirt.
“We couldn’t really read it,” I admit softly.
“What do you mean?”
“Nikki and I couldn’t see it. It wasn’t clear. There was maybe a line, but it was faint. I
don’t know.”
Zaid breathes out through his nose, sharp and controlled. His fingers twitch at his sides. “Did you make an appointment with a doctor?”
I shake my head, my throat tightening. “No. I- I’m scared to go alone.”
I hate how small the words sound and how pathetic they make me look. How small I
sound.
But the second they’re out of my mouth, his whole body stiffens, his jaw clenching hard enough that a muscle jumps near his temple. His hands come out of his pockets, fingers flexing like he’s holding back the urge to punch a wall.
And then, in the roughest, gruffest voice, he says, “I’ll go with you.”
I blink. “Zaid-”
He shakes his head once, cutting me off. “You don’t have to want me in there. I get it.”
His gaze flicks away, his throat working like it’s hard for him to say it, and I bite down on
my tongue.
“I can wait in the car. I’ll drive you. I’ll be there. You won’t be alone.”
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I’m There
I won’t be alone.
Those words make my heart crack in my chest. Alone is all I’ve been feeling, all I’m able to understand at this point. I can tell he’s terrified I won’t take his help, even when it is so obvious that he is struggling to offer it to me.
“I think that would make me feel better,” I tell him, my voice catching at the end.
His eyes flare wide, and he blinks like he’s surprised. “Really?”
I nod.
His shoulders drop a little. Not much. Just enough. He nods once, decisive. “Then I’m
there.”
We sit on my bed and choose a doctor, setting an appointment for the next day.
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