Anything but Normal (21 page)

“What if Dylan—if he really is the father, which I’m still not sure about—what if he wanted to do the honorable thing and marry you, Sophie?”

“Are you insane?” Sophie couldn’t believe Carrie Anne had just said that. “I don’t love him. And he sure doesn’t love me. What kind of horrible marriage would that be?”

Carrie Anne frowned. “Not so good. But it might be the right thing to do—you know, for the sake of the baby.”

“I think it would be absolutely nuts!” Sophie shook her head. What was wrong with Carrie Anne? “It would be totally and certifiably nuts! And I can promise you that if Dylan ever asked me to marry him, I would most definitely turn him down. I do not love him, and I don’t have the slightest shred of respect for him anymore. I can’t believe you’d even suggest such stupidity.”

“Sorry.” Carrie Anne looked hurt.

“No,
I’m
sorry.” Sophie sighed. “I feel like all I do is bring people pain. I will understand completely if you don’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Carrie Anne didn’t say anything.

“I just hope that in time you’ll forgive me.”

Sophie left. She couldn’t stand another minute of Carrie Anne’s judgment. On one hand, she didn’t blame her. How would Sophie have felt if the tables were turned? What if Carrie Anne had broken her pledge and was trekking around school with a big pregnant belly, expecting Sophie to act like nothing had changed, like it was no big deal? Well, it was a big deal, and Sophie knew it. And she didn’t blame Carrie Anne or Kelsey or Hannah or Jenny or Wes or anyone for steering clear of her. On the other hand, it hurt to lose a best friend. Thankfully she would still have the pregnancy center. At least she’d be understood there. She would make friends there too. And she would finish her school year. All thanks to the pregnancy center. She couldn’t help but laugh at the irony as she got into her car and drove home. Who would’ve thought—just a year or even six months ago—that Sophie Ramsay would ever have been thankful for the high school’s teen pregnancy center?

Mom, true to her word, made a doctor’s appointment for

Sophie. While other teenage girls were hanging with friends at the mall, doing some last-minute Christmas shopping and grabbing a movie, Sophie’s feet were above her head as the doctor did her “internal exam.”

It was the first time Sophie had experienced a gynecological visit, and unfortunately she knew it would not be the last. The worst part was the way the pain down there reminded her of how this baby had been conceived. In pain. Really, why did everyone act like sex was so great? For Sophie it hadn’t merely been physically painful, it had annihilated her life.

“Everything looks good.” Dr. Phillips removed her latex gloves, tossing them into the metal trash can. “You can sit up now.”

Sophie blinked back tears as she removed her feet from the stirrups and sat up, pulling the lap cloth closer to her.

“I’d say that you’re just starting your nineteenth week.”

Sophie already knew from her research that the average pregnancy lasted forty weeks. “So almost halfway done.”

“You got that right. Midway. Some women say this is the most pleasant part of pregnancy.”

“Pleasant is not the word I’d use to describe any of this.”

The doctor smiled. “Any questions?”

Sophie twisted her mouth to one side. “Kind of.”

“Go for it.”

“Okay, I only had sex twice,” she said quietly. “It hurt a lot the first time. And the second time wasn’t much better.”

“Seems like a bum deal now, doesn’t it?”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. But anyway, I’m just curious, if sex hurts that much, why is it so popular?”

The doctor laughed. “It usually hurts at the beginning. That’s normal. But eventually people figure out how things work. Otherwise I’d be out of business.”

Sophie knew her face was red, but at least she’d gotten a straight answer. Not that she ever planned to have sex again. “So, unless you have more questions, you can go ahead and get dressed, and the nurse will come draw some blood. And don’t forget to make another appointment on your way out. Merry Christmas!”

Sophie told the doctor “Merry Christmas” too, but all she could think was that this Christmas was going to be anything but merry at her house. Dad still wasn’t speaking to her. Although he’d quit hanging at his favorite bar, he now parked himself in front of the TV with several beers nearby. And he and Mom fought with regularity. Sophie knew it was all thanks to her. Mom said not to worry about it and that Dad was just being immature and selfish. But Sophie knew that it was only because she had been immature and selfish. That hurt.

The other thing that hurt was that Bart hadn’t responded to her email. And he hadn’t called her. Mom said it was because he was so busy with football and that he was distracted with playoffs. But Sophie thought she knew better.

As relieved as she was to be out of school—away from her “friends”—she couldn’t believe how each day, each hour, and each minute seemed to drag on. It felt as if God had reached down and turned time onto slow speed. Consequently she slept a lot. When she wasn’t sleeping, she was on pins and needles. She could only assume that Pastor Vincent had spoken to Dylan by now. Possibly his parents as well. What if Dylan called her? Or, worse, what if he came over to her house? Would she even answer the door? She really didn’t want to see him. Not alone. Really, not at all. It was easier to just pretend he had nothing to do with this. He was not part of the equation. Less significant than a sperm donor. An unwanted sperm donor.

As it turned out, Christmas wasn’t too terrible, although it was definitely strange. Sophie was relieved when the “festivities” were over and Bart headed back to school for his final playoff game. They’d had a brief conversation, and Bart admitted that he was disappointed in her but that he’d forgiven her. Still, she could tell things had changed between them. Like Dad, he was uncomfortable being around her. But at least Dad had started talking to her again. That was something. Not more than a few words at a time, and he continued to avoid her eyes as if he was not only uncomfortable but ashamed of her too. Why shouldn’t he be? Why shouldn’t everyone be ashamed of her?

Sophie knew she was depressed. But she tried not to show it when her family was around. She knew it was unfair to drag them down with her. So she did all she could to keep things light. She made jokes at her own expense and helped her mom with everything she could think of, but like everything else since her pregnancy, she just wanted the holidays to be over with. And if she could speed up the clock and the calendar, she would. Oh, she had no illusions that she’d ever have a normal life again, but the sooner this stage of her life passed, the happier she’d be. Although being “happy” seemed a bit of a stretch.

The highlight of the holidays was when Wes called on Christmas day. “How’s it going?” he asked with so much sympathy that she felt like crying.

“Well, imagine
The Simpsons
if Lisa got pregnant. That might just about describe it.”

He laughed. “At least you still have your sense of humor.” “I try.”

“I miss you.”

“Really?”

“Really. I wish I were with you right now. I’d give you a big hug and tell you that everything’s going to be okay.”

“I could use that.”

“Then consider yourself hugged.”

“Thanks.”

“I just want you to know that when we’re back in school, I am totally there for you. If people want to think I’m the father of your baby, I’m cool with that.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. And I plan to lobby for you to remain chief editor, Sophie. Unless you really don’t want me to.”

“I don’t really know what I want.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. I think you have as much right to continue in that role as I would have to take it. I mean, for all everyone knows, I am the father of the baby. Why should you lose everything while the dad gets the ‘get out of jail free’ card?”

She groaned.

“Have you heard from him? From Dylan?”

Sophie told him about her talk with Carrie Anne’s dad. “So my guess is he knows by now.”

“What do you think he’ll do?”

“Hopefully nothing.”

“If he’s the jerk I think he is.”

“Thanks.” She smiled, then told him about Carrie Anne’s reaction. Well, everything but her lame suggestion that Sophie and Dylan should get married. And that was out of respect for her ex–best friend because no one should be that clueless.

Wes turned the subject to lighter things, and they talked for about an hour. When she finally hung up, she realized she actually felt better.

On the Saturday morning after Christmas, Pastor Vincent called Sophie’s cell phone. Her heart pounded as she answered. After a brief greeting, he got right to it. “Dylan and his parents want to meet with you and your parents, Sophie.”

“All of us?” Her voice was tight and high-pitched. “In the same room?”

“I know it won’t be easy, Sophie, but it might be necessary.” “My dad . . . I mean, he’s kind of unpredictable. What if he says something terrible to them?”

“I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”

“Really?”

“I’d do the same thing myself if Carrie Anne was in your position. I’d probably knock Dylan’s block off . . . in love, of course.” He chuckled.

She found this surprisingly comforting. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Just so you know, I didn’t spare his feelings when I confronted him.”

“He didn’t deny it?” It had occurred to her that he might take that escape route.

“To be honest, he did.”

Her heart sank. “Really?”

“Until I reminded him that a simple DNA test could prove him a liar. And then I told him that, as a Christian, he had a responsibility to own up to his mistake. His dad backed me on that.”

“And his mom?”

“Naturally she’s upset and disappointed . . . and hurt.”

“I can imagine.” Sophie wanted to add that, although it wasn’t easy, it couldn’t be nearly as tough as it was for the family of the pregnant girl. Dylan didn’t have to go around wearing his bulging belly as a badge of dishonor. He could return to his school, slip under the radar, and pretend that nothing had changed.

Sometimes it was hard not to be bitter.

20

“I don’t see what good can come of this stupid meeting,” Dad grumbled as he drove them over to the church. Pastor Vincent had recommended they meet on neutral turf, and although Dad had reluctantly agreed, Sophie knew he was miffed to be torn from his big screen, brewskies, and football games.

“It might help to get things out in the open,” Mom said.

“Who wants things out in the open?” Dad said as he turned into the parking lot. “Back in my day, they used to just sweep this kind of thing under the rug.”

“Times have changed, Bud. Besides, our family isn’t the only one affected by this.”

“You really think this is going to rock the Morrises’ boat?” Dad pulled into a spot and turned off the car.

“Probably more than you know.” Mom got out of the car. He grunted. “I doubt that it’s even a blip on their radar scale. You ask me, they just want us here for some public humiliation, so they can look down their pious noses at us.”