Author's Commentary
Hopefully a little less mundane?
She had fallen while we were cuddling in a spooning position, my finger tips running along her side. Between the emotional breakdown, and the physical embrace, she had been exhausted. She was naked except for her bra, which we hadn’t bothered to remove. The scent of our sweating bodies smelled sweet as I we laid there, and I studied the curve of her neck. I soon found myself drifting off as well, the heat of her body complimenting the light warmth of the evening.
When I woke up, several hours later, she was still next to me. The chilly air gave me goose bumps along my unclothed body, and I got up, careful to not wake her. I checked the time, and it was near one in the morning, and I had work in about seven hours. I picked up my blanket from the floor and placed it gently over her to protect her from the cold air, as I kissed her soft cheek.
I washed off the sweat, now not so pleasant, in the shower. My body felt healthy, my mind was eased and confident, and my libido was satisfied for the first time in months. I felt good. We had exchanged a few words after we found our comfortable post-coital position and before she fell asleep.
“I should know your name by now.” I saw her lip curve up against her cheek in my view of the side of her face.
“Warren,” I told her. She repeated my name. She nodded off shortly after.
Taking note of my empty stomach, I unwrapped one of the burritos from the day before. I felt active, but it was barely two AM. I liked that Katelyn was asleep in my bed, so I decided to let her stay in that state. I also decided against a walk, cautious of the possibility of her waking, and feeling abandoned. I decided to watch television, with the volume low, until she woke up.
Seven-fifteen came before she got out of bed, and I had to leave for work. I decided to walk to work, knowing it wouldn’t take much longer than waiting for the bus. When I got behind the counter, a coworker remarked about my good mood. I smiled and shrugged.
I hadn’t told anyone about Katelyn. My coworkers weren’t necessarily close friends, but I did talk with them on an almost daily basis. I’m not sure why I never brought her up, carrying on tedious conversations about nearly nothing. I didn’t want to hear any outside judgements or comments, negative or supportive. She was like a secret.
In the middle of my shift, the fact finally hit me: We hadn’t used a condom. I cussed to myself under my breath. Maybe she was on the pill? Doubtfully. Did she have any diseases? I swore again.
The same thing was on both our minds when I got home. The awkward silence had returned, only this time it seemed worse. She was in a tight ball on the couch, her arms squeezing her legs against her chest, with her chin on her knees. I walked to my room, and sat down on my bed for about an hour. The sheet was changed, and half of the clothes I had thrown off were in the laundry pile. She had been picking up my wrinkled pants when she made the realization.
I walked into the other room eventually, to ask, for politeness sake, if she wanted dinner. She told me, in a small, voice, that she wasn’t hungry. It relieved me a little; neither was I. We looked to each other, knowing it would have to happen eventually.
“Are you clean?” she asked, and I nodded. “Not anymore,” she said, in my paranoid mind. I winced as I waited for her real response.
“Good.”
We hardly talked for a while. I made small dinners, and neither of us finished them. We discussed, for no more than a minute, getting a pregnancy test. She mentioned that you need to wait a week before you can get results, so I agreed to pick one up on Wednesday. It was a long week, and I was happy any time work gave me a reprieve from sitting in the apartment, uncomfortable and almost afraid to make a sound.
We definitely couldn’t support a kid. She might need to go back with her sister, and it seemed like that was something she’d be extremely reluctant to do. Furthermore, if anyone found out that I impregnated a minor, I would be in deep shit. I didn’t look forward to hiding a pregnant girl for nine months.
An abortion seemed like the best choice. I didn’t know she felt about going through that process though. We never discussed the situation; we silently agreed that it was a talk that would come sooner or later. She smoked through four packs of cigarettes by the time Wednesday came.
I had bought dropped by a convenience store during my break, to pick up the test. I could feel the box fitting uncomfortably in my pocket as I worked into the afternoon. I couldn’t get used to the feeling of the rectangle burning into my leg as I walked, as I stood, as I sat. Katelyn was smoking when I got home.
She was in the bathroom for what seemed like an excruciating hour, before I heard a faint beep from behind the door. I had a hard time reading her face when she walked out, with the thin white test in her hand. Her eyes were moist, but they had been watering when she walked into the bathroom. She handed me the machine, and leaned gently against my shoulder.
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