• I was sitting at my desk reading my book. There was a tap on my window and a feeling of relief and regret washed over me. I walked over to it slowly and my boyfriend stared me in the face.

    “Open the window please.” His voice came muffled, but it was still clear in the frosted air. His breath fogged my window but his face came through lucid pane.

    “What do you want Brent?” I crossed my arms defensively.

    “For you to open the window.”

    “No.”

    “Please Shy. It’s freezing out here and I’m going to fall off of the metal bar.”

    “Good. If it goes with you then it can break your fall.”

    “Please.” I gave in and opened the window. He climbed in ‘gracefully’ and closed the frame down silently as he always did. He could not possibly be here for me; he had not called me in a week and the only contact we had was right now.

    “I need to talk to you,” he said as he sat down on the couch. I stood in front of him with my arms still folded and pushed them tighter to my chest.

    “What do you want? How did you know I was in here?”

    “I looked in your bedroom window and didn’t see your shadow so I came to the other window.”

    “Stalker,” I muttered. “Look Brent. Why are you here? After I told you there was absolutely no calls, or emails, and not even smoke signals for that matter!”

    “Sorry my wood was out.”

    “Hilarious. Look why are you here?” There was more seriousness in my tone.

    “I wanted to see you.”

    “Well here I am. Now leave.”

    “I can’t.”

    “You can’t open the window again? If not I can get an instruction manual for you. Or would you need help reading the manual?”

    “No. I just needed to see you.” He stood up and started to walk toward me. His hand touched my shoulder, but I brushed it off quickly.

    “I told you, you just did now leave!”

    “I wanted to tell you something.”

    “Fine. Tell me.” He took a long pause and stood in front of me. Matching me eye to eye as best as he could since he was a couple of inches taller than I was. He opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again. Then he began to speak again.

    “I love you.” Anger rushed through me and my face may have turned red from it.

    “No you don’t! You are just saying that because of what I told you last week. You are so selfish!”

    “Selfish? How am I selfish when I just told you that I loved you?”

    “You just don’t want yourself to feel bad because you know you don’t want anything to do with me and you know it!”

    “No I really love you Shy! That’s why I told you!” I shook my head violently in rage.

    “This is just closure for you isn’t it?”

    “What are you talking about? I really love you!”

    “Just go please.” His face softened and he looked at me with pleading eyes. I stared back in them and his mind said that he did not want to leave me now more than anything in the world. Nevertheless, I knew somewhere hiding in the back of his mind, he was actually saying ‘I can finally not feel guilty about this.’

    “But Shy…” He attempted to comfort me once more with his hand, but I threw it back at him this time with as much force as I could. But it could have been not much considering it was his own hand.

    “Just go!” I screamed at him. He began to walk towards the window, but turned back. “What?”

    “Can I use the front door this time?” There was a rumbling sound below us and the garage must be opening. My mom must be home since she was the only other person that lived with me. Brent wasn’t supposed to be here.

    “What do you think?” My arms were going so far into my chest; I thought they might smelt into my shirt.

    “Window it is then.” He slid it open inaudibly and climbed down the small railing. I shut it slowly in an attempt not to slam it closed. My mom ran up the stairs and yelled for me.

    “Shy! Shy where are you? I need help on wardrobe.”

    “Coming mom.” She must be going on another date again. She always needed help picking out her clothes, even though she had tons upon tons of outfits to choose from. Combined our clothes and shoes could clothe all of Rhode Island.

    She was taking off her shoes and almost tripped onto her bed in the process. There were several options laid sloppily on the bed, so I assumed she had put them there in the time I was walking to go help her out.

    “So which one do you think?”

    “Who are you going out with tonight?”

    “This guy that asked me out at work. He works as a manager at a chocolate store.” Chocolate. Our favorite food group.

    “Did you mention your chocolate addict daughter?”

    “That depends. Is my chocolate addict daughter going to hurry up and help me with my outfit?”

    “Oh fine. How about the jean mini skirt with the loose brown sweater.”

    “But it’s cold outside.” She was redoing her hair and the amount of hairspray she was spraying surprised me that I could still hear her.

    “Wear the black tank top underneath the sweater. That way you can take it off if you get too warm.”

    “Ah ha!” She ran into her closet nearest to the bathroom. She thumped around noisily and her arm flailed out something that resembled a high-heeled shoe. It landed next to its pair. “What about my legs?” she asked coming out of the closet dressed in my suggested outfit.

    “Yeah they’re shaved. So what?”

    “It is cold outside,” she protested.

    “I’ll build you leg igloos.”

    “Ha ha. Very funny. You know igloos can’t move.”

    “Then wear your brown leggings.”

    “Perfect. Thanks babe.” The doorbell rang and my mom’s head stuck out of the closet. “What time is it?” I looked at the cell phone attached to my hip.

    “Quarter to seven.”

    “But my date isn’t until seven. I still have fifteen minutes to turn the after work me into the fabulous perfect me.”

    “Then wipe off your face and trade with me,” I said smiling.

    “Can you please get the door?”

    “Why do I have to answer to your date?”

    “Because I feed you and he could give you free chocolate.” Hmm. She had a point. And a literally very good one at that.

    “So true.” I walked downstairs with ease and let the kitchen light hit me. The tile was dull and I figured one of us would mop it eventually. The doorbell rang again impatiently. “I’m right here,” I answered yelling. I opened the door and slammed it shut again. There was muttering from outside and I opened the door. “What did you say?”

    “Talk to me Shy.”

    “Brent I’m not getting into this with you.”

    “Well I’m getting into this with you!”

    “Stop yelling my mom’s upstairs. She still doesn’t know.”

    “Then tell her because I’m tired of carrying your little secret.”

    “It’s your’s too.”

    “Cheyenne. Is he down there?” my mom called from upstairs, followed by thumping. She must’ve been tripping into the leggings.

    “No,” I answered back. “It’s no one.” I put my hands on my hips; careful not to dig my nails into my hipbones. I turned on the outside light and closed the door behind me. “Okay. Talk.” He stepped closer to me and brushed a loose strand of hair from my cheek to behind my ear.

    “Why doesn’t your own mother know, but I do?” His voice was soft again and he stared at me with those pleading eyes.

    “Well it is your’s hun. Congratulations!”

    “Well thanks baby. But that doesn‘t mean we don‘t need to talk about this.” I would rather map out my life than having my any one else doing it for me. Talking to him would be making out own decisions. Maybe I should talk to him; it would be best. He always was the type to fix things in a relationship.

    “Fine.” I turned for the door and it looked like he wanted to follow me in. “Just wait out back until my mom leaves with her date.” It was a little silly calling it the back since it was a second front door conveniently located where our porch was. There was a doorbell and everything. He nodded and disappeared into the darkness.

    When I came back inside my mom was still upstairs. The door didn’t squeak when I closed it. At least I had at least something inanimate on my side today.

    About two minutes after I turned on the T.V. and lounged on the couch yet another doorbell rang. I hope Brent wasn’t playing with the doorbell back there. My mom hurried down the carpeted stairs as fast as her black designer boots would take her.

    “I got it,” she echoed. When she answered a tall man with dark hair stood in the light’s glow to greet her with a short kiss. “I’ll be back late. Money for pizza is on the table or you can try to dig something edible out of our fridge.” I acknowledged her joke with a smile and a nod. She locked the door behind her as I got up from the couch and opened the back door.

    “Brent you can come in now,” I called to a shadow. He came in and sat in our only recliner chair. I kept my distance and sat on the bar stools lined up along the counter and faced it towards him. I nodded towards him signaling that he could talk.

    “I know that I haven’t called you in a while.”

    “A week.”

    “Yes a week. But that’s because I have been doing a lot of thinking lately.”

    “Anything in particular or is it about how long it must take the small furry mouse running on the wheel in your head to actually catch the cheese?”

    “Well… us really.”

    “Us as in you and the mouse or-”

    “No. I meant us three.”

    “Not so loud Brent you might scare the mouse.”

    “Will you stop it Cheyenne?! I am trying to be serious here. So could you just listen?”

    He shut me up, but what could I say? He was the only one who knew about this besides me and he was being rational. Usually things like these would drive guys away faster than my mom on a power trip. But he was trying to be totally serious.

    “Okay. So you’re not going to give this up?”

    “No. That would be out of the question. And that‘s not even an option I would consider.” My voice was more calm now, so I took out my intensity on the iron rod of the chair: scratching it wherever I could feel my nails dig in, but it was always impossible.

    “Alright then. Do you want to get married?”

    “No.”

    “Why not?”

    “Because I don’t love you. And we‘re not old enough.”

    “But I love you. And we can in Georgia.”

    “Then we’re two halves of the whole idiot. And I’m not moving or going to Georgia. Next topic.”

    “Would I be able to move in with you?”

    “No. Why would you want to anyway?”

    “So I could help out and you don’t have to go through this alone.”

    “You will help out, trust me I‘ll be sure of that. Just not by living with us.”

    “Then how am I supposed to help?”

    “Get a job and buy supplies. I don’t exactly think my mom would love the idea of you staying here with us.”

    “Why? What does she think I’ll do with you?”

    “Go for another one. Next question.” He sighed with annoyance and just decided to give up and move to the next subject.

    “What about names?”

    “Don’t know yet, we’ll decide later. And the last name will be mine. Anything else?”

    “Yeah. It’s not talking when I bring up and issue, you answer sarcastically every time, and then I move on.”

    “But are you asking me questions?”

    “Yes.”

    “And am I answering your questions so that you know what‘s going on?”

    “Yes but-”

    “And are you getting all of your problems out in the open now?”

    “Yes but I don’t see-”

    “Then we’re discussing this. Next area,” I said snapping my fingers. He gave me one of those ‘give-me-a-chance’ faces. But I only snapped my fingers again and ordered him. “Next topic.” He sighed heavily and decided that he couldn’t win.

    “What are we going to do?”

    “Excuse me?”

    “I said what are we going to do? We’re sixteen Shy. We were supposed to have a future somewhere.”

    “This is our future though. Don’t you see how exciting this will be?” He was quiet. “Don’t you know how much this will make us better people: happier, more patient, and more open to change.” He still stayed silent. “You want to get rid of it don’t you?”

    “No! That’s not it at all! I just,” he sighed. “I just don’t know how to handle this.”

    “Well you’re not handling this. I am,” I said patting my stomach. “And it will take me a while to handle this. So unless you want to switch stomachs with me then you’re not handling this, I’m sorry to say.”

    “Okay then.”

    “Anything else?”

    “Can I stay and make you dinner?” I sighed heavily and decided to give in. I couldn’t completely shut him out. “Fine. Just no sushi or spicy.”

    “I know what not to make.” I raised an eyebrow.

    “You read the books?”

    “Well…” I set off a groan that showed how obviously annoyed I was.

    “Isn‘t it me who‘s supposed to do that?”

    “Hey they have them for guys too,” he said sheepishly. I looked at him as if I was about to laugh. “Don’t make fun of me. I’m trying to be supportive here.”

    “Alright. Fine. Cook away.” I turned the chair so that I could watch him cook in the kitchen. He knew where to find everything and even if he didn’t, he just searched around for it. He chopped, cut, sautéed, and cooked food for us with ease. His mom was a chef, so I wasn’t surprised. Even though we didn’t have much of anything, I’m sure he could turn it into something that was fit to eat.

    “So do you like chicken?”

    “Yes Brent I like chicken. You know I like chicken.”

    “I know I’m just trying to make small talk here.”

    “Okay. Any other useless questions?”

    “Would you mind waiting fifteen more minutes to eat?” My stomach growled loudly. It must’ve heard Brent. Yet again, everyone could hear Brent with his big mouth. “That answers my question. Do you want a snack?”

    “Well its my house I can get it.”

    “No. That’s okay. I’m the one making you food, I’ll get it for you. Chips?”

    “How about cookies?”

    “Cookies it is then. Milk?”

    “Please.” He set five cookies in front of me and poured me a glass of milk. I munched on them gratefully, dunking them into the milk very thoroughly before each bite. The chocolate chips tasted good in my mouth. The basic thing of my diet was the main thing that I was craving. I finished the last bite. “Thank you.”

    “No problem. Dinner is ready now anyways. Where do you want to sit?”

    “You pick.” Which translated to: he should pick where he would most likely think that I would prefer to have dinner.

    “Here it is,” he said putting a plate in front of me. He apparently made pasta with cheese sauce over it. Some tomatoes that had been in a pan with butter and salt and pepper. It gave the pasta more flavor. It was really good and I shoveled it down gratefully.

    “This is really good,” I said with my mouth full.

    “Thanks. I just used whatever I could find.”

    “Sorry there wasn’t much. We haven’t been shopping in a while.”

    “It’s fine.” He was still standing in the kitchen while he was talking to me. Thanks to the chairs I was taller than him and he had to look up to talk to me. “I seem to have a talent to turn nothing into something.” It was true. Whenever we had nothing in the house he always knew how to make good food from it. A chill danced around me and raised goose bumps on my arms.

    “I’ll go turn down the thermostat. I think the cold is coming through the windows.”

    “Alright I’ll be down here.” I walked up into the dark and made it warmer. I heard Brent beginning to clean up the plates. At least I was done with my food. When I got down there he was talking on his cell phone and desperately trying to get rid of the caller.

    “I can’t talk right now… Yes I know… I’m not over there… I am sure… Okay… Talk to you later… Bye.” I sat down in the same chair I had been in. And waited until he looked at me to talk.

    “Who was on the phone?” I folded my hands on top of the counter.

    “My mom.”

    “Oh. What did she want?”

    “She wanted to make sure I was at Mark’s.”

    “But your not at Mark’s.”

    "I know." I shrugged. Even though I never lied about my whereabouts, he seemed to trick everyone into thinking he was somewhere else other than where he was supposed to be.

    “So do you have anything else to talk about or are we done here?”

    “Actually I do. Have you gone to a doctor’s yet?”

    “No,” I said quietly.

    “Do you plan to?”

    “Yes.” My voice was barely audible.

    “Can I come for the first picture?”

    “How about I bring it to you?”

    “Sounds fine. I understand. I have one last question.” I looked him in the eye so he knew I was listening. “Are you okay?”

    “Yeah I’m fine.”

    “You’re not even shocked or surprised or worried?”

    “Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I really don’t think it sunk in yet.”

    “Will you tell anyone else?”

    “I thought you said you had one more question.”

    “Well I have one more then.”

    “I’m still debating that.” I wanted him to keep quiet, but I wasn’t sure if he told anyone. “Have you told anyone yet?”

    “No. Did you want me to?”

    “No.” This would have to remain a secret until I felt comfortable telling people about me. They would figure it out for themselves later on, but I figured even my best friend should know about me.

    “Not ever?”

    “Not yet. Why are you so excited on telling people about this?”

    “Well I am excited about being a-” There were sounds of people walking up to the front door. I glanced at the clock so fast that I could swear my necked cracked in the process. 9:02. It was too early for my mom to be home; she usually crawled in at about one in the morning. They were chatting at the door. “What is she doing home now?” he whispered loudly.

    “I don’t know but you’re not supposed to be here,” I answered at the same volume. He ran to the back door and we opened and shut it quickly and in silence. My mom ran back in just as I hoped onto the couch and grabbed a magazine. “How was your date?”

    “Eh could have been better. He gave us free chocolate,” she said dangling a see-through bag full of chocolate in the air.

    “To dull?”

    “Yeah. How was your night of reading upside down?” she asked gesturing to the magazine. It was upside down and I couldn’t believe I made a classic ‘I-didn’t-do-anything’ mistake.

    “I know how to read upside down.” Her face revealed that she apparently thought that she had raised a weirdo. But if she said anything, she should know that I must get it from her.

    “Okay then. I’m going upstairs and going to watch T.V. for a little bit."

    “Goodnight.”

    “Goodnight.”

    I stayed downstairs for a couple of hours on my mom’s laptop. Looking up advice for people like me on the internet. Each site said that people like me were irresponsible and could’ve just said no. But there were only three sites that were good enough to give me advice. One of which had accounts of actual stories of girls who went though the same thing. I wrote them down on a napkin, that way my mom wouldn’t be able to find out and I could depose of it easily.

    After a while I began to yawn and then finally went to sleep in my room. In the middle of the night I woke up feeling sick to my stomach. I tiptoed to my mother’s room to make sure my mom was still sleeping; she was. Then I silently ran to the bathroom and proceeded to throw up my dinner and part of my lunch.

    Tears dripped from my face like a broken faucet. They dripped into the foul water and I forced myself to remain quiet as I cried. When I let out my tears I rinsed out my mouth with water and forced myself to look at myself in the mirror. Red decided to splotch it: I looked like a wreck.

    After my episode I crawled back into bed. My cell phone buzzed on the night table and I opened it. I apparently had a text message sent to me when I was asleep. It was from Brent:

    I love you

    I let out a heavy sigh and fell back to sleep. Then I woke up again in the morning to the sound of the garage opening. My mom must be on her way to work. Light barely shone through my blinds and I decided to stay up. The napkin that was hidden in my pillowcase was of good use to me this morning. I typed in the addresses into my own laptop, not worried about her knowing what websites I was on. Last night I had to delete not only my history on her laptop out of fear, but the cookies also. There was more advice on that website I liked.

    I couldn’t believe that there was school tomorrow. Maybe I should tell Sookie about me. She wouldn’t spread it around school if I asked her to. She was my best friend after all.

    My stomach growled about two hours after I woke up. I went downstairs and raided the rest of the chips we had. These cravings were getting on my nerves. I would probably end up gaining three hundred pounds.

    Brent called me when I was looking for more helpful websites and I threw up again in the middle of our conversation. He told me he wanted to come over and take care of me, but I just insisted that it was just part of the whole thing. Brent didn’t want to, but he accepted it because it came from me. He said he loved me again before he hung up. I simply said goodbye.

    The November chill was gone for now, leaving the outside sunny. Florida’s winters were always unpredictable. It gave me some confidence and courage to call my mom and tell her the truth.

    It rang three times before she answered.

    “Hello?”

    “Mom I need to tell you something.”

    “What is it honey, what’s wrong?” I could just imagine all of her facial expressions now when she would find out that her daughter is going to end up just like her.

    “Nothing’s wrong. It’s just something important.”

    “Alright then what’s so important?”

    “I’m pregnant.”