The Pregnancy Club °A Teen Pregnancy Story°

The Pregnancy Club - Chapter 18

Aimee

Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins. Twins.

Oh, sh*t.

I couldn't think. I couldn't breath. I couldn't speak. Only my legs were working, and they were taking me as far away from the hospital as possible. I was about two blocks away when I realized my feet were killing me, (never wear kitten heels to an ultrasound) and I still had to pee. I ran into a Starbucks and used their bathroom, but I ended up buying a frappucino too. I usually don't buy them, to many calories, but today I was didn't care. I was going to get huge with the baby anyway. Whoops, make that two.

"One grande caramel frapp with whip." The cashier groaned as she handed over the tall plastic cup. She eyed my tear-stained face and bulging stomach, raising a carefully waxed eyebrow.

"Thanks." I grunted. I rushed out of the store and kept walking down the street, knowing somewhere in the back of my mind that I wasn't even close to home. Whatever. It's not like my parents would care.

"Change, Miss?" A homeless man was sitting on the sidewalk, a small coffee cup on the ground in front of him. It was strange to see homeless people in Rochester, it was quite a nice town. But every so often you see the occasional man or woman, sitting on the sidewalk begging for money. I knew how to treat these people. I swiftly walked by, ignoring him completeley. I didn't turn back to see his expression. It wasn't my fault he was homeless. Besides, I had my own problems anyway.

"Aimee?!" I heard a voice squeal. Crap. Megan came running across the street, much to the displeasure of a beat-up Toyota. "It's so weird that I see you here!"

"Yeah, weird." I mutter.

"You look pale. Maybe a little green. Are you feeling okay?" She cooed, smoothing my bangs. I shooed her hand away.

"I'm feeling fine, Megan." I assure. When can I leave? Megan glanced at my frappacino.

"No wonder you look green! Do you know how many calories are in that thing? Gross!" She scrunched up her petite nose. "Whatever. By the way, I'm sorry I confronted you in September about the whole pregnancy thing, I hope we can start hanging out again."

I don't like you.

"Yeah! Sounds great." I smiled a huge, fake smile.

"Awesome! I was just about to hit some boutiques, wanna come?" She hooked her arm in mine.

I slipped it out. "Um, I don't think I can." Why isn't she hanging out with Morgan? "Why aren't you hanging out with Morgan?" Megan's face froze.

"Oh . . . uh, she had a doctor's appointment." Megan rushed, and then checked her cell phone. "Speaking of which, I need to go pick her up. See ya!" She cried as she crossed the street again and hopped in her parents car. I was alone again, thank God.

I roamed the streets for a couple more hours until I realized it was starting to get dark. The days were getting shorter and shorter. I knew that creepy people came out at night, so I decided to grab a taxi and go home.

                                                                 *               *               *

I stepped through the doors of my house, and was surprised to see that my parents were home. I attempted to slip up the stairs unseen, but they caught me before I could.

"Aimee, come into the living room." My mother said. It seemed like a request, but really it was an order. I sighed, and then crossed the hall into the living room.

"Yes?"

"Sit down, please." Another request-order. I sat down. My mom and dad were sitting on the couch, watching the news, a glass of wine on each of the side tables."Aimee, we need to talk." My parents never wanted to talk. They practically avoided it.

"Did someone die?" I ask.

It seemed like a worthy reason for my parents to want to talk to me.

"No, Aimee. No one's died. Your father and I have been noticing . . . well . . ." My mother was at a loss for words, looping her finger around the top of her crystal wine glass so a hollow, ringing noise drifted through the room until it died down to a whisper.

"Honey," My father began. My parents never call me, "Honey". Or "Darling." Or "Sweetie." What's wrong with them?

"Tell me what's wrong!" I cried. I hated the suspense.

"Aimee, are you pregnant?" My mother asked, not in a snappy way, almost in a way that seemed like she cared. I didn't know what to say. I knew I would have to tell them, but I didn't think they would confront me. Heck, half the time they weren't even looking at me.

I decided I should give them the truth. It was kind of obvious anyway. My stomach was almost coming out of my shirt. Gross."Yes." My father straightened up, and my mother cleared her throat.

"Why?" My mother exasperated, a disgusted look on her face. I knew she didn't care.

"You really think I planned this?" I shot back.

"Aimee, you will not speak to us in that tone." My father said sternly.

"You don't speak to me at all! I've been under your radar ever since I turned eight! All you care about is your buisness, so don't pretend you give a crap about me and this baby. Never mind, actually. Make that two. I have twins. Two things that I don't want, but it's not like you would care. Just keep hiding in your office, planning another model. Maybe that's what you're trying to do, build a better, shinier, perfect model to replace me. Are you embaressed of me? Is there something I did wrong?" I realized I was sobbing. "Am I the daughter you're ashamed of? Because if you were never going to pay attention to me, why did you have me in the first place?" I stood up and ran up the stairs. They said nothing. Their faces were cold and unmoving, as if I'd frozen them with my words. Not like I cared. Everything I said was true.

It felt weird to let out so much emotion. I had never let myself go, cried and told people how I feel. People never care, anyway. They're too wrapped up in their own problems. My thoughts went back to the homeless man, I regreted not giving him any money.

I didn't want to treat my kids the way my parents treated me. I wanted them to grow up with a mom who paid attention to them, who looked out for them and asked them about their problems.

That's when I knew I was going to keep my babies.