Forever & More: The Friend Zone series (10 page)

“Well, I’ve already answered your first question, sweets; I’m a miserable, selfish prick. I wish there was more to it than that but there’s not. I was a selfish asshole who was more worried about his next fix than his friend. You did nothing wrong, sweetie. You’ve been dealt a shit hand at life, but it’s made you the strongest and most loveable person I know. I love you with everything I am, I just made poor choices, and I got what I deserved in the end. But, babe, you don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve the beating you’re putting on yourself. You cannot control the actions of those around you. You need to realize that those are their actions and problems, not yours. Look at you, popping pills and washing it down with a bottle of Jack. That’s not really your style and if you’re not careful, you’re gonna end up like me, and we both know that’s not what you want.” I take another swig just to spit it at him, causing him to chuckle.

“You’re such a spiteful bitch, you know that?”

“Yep, and you’re a self-centered asshole,” I retort. My words slur together into one long string of syllables.

“It’s not your time, Chloe. You need to sleep it off. When you wake up, you need to get your shit together and find the Chloe we all know and love, not this zombie you’ve become. There are still people who need you. Everything will be okay, you’ll see. You’re stronger than this. Just know that I love you beyond words and I’m sorry. I want you to forgive, to be able to forgive me in time, but most importantly, you need to forgive yourself. I know you think you could have saved me and that’s causing you to beat yourself up, but the truth is, at the time I didn’t think I needed saving. I didn’t want to be saved. Please don’t allow this to continue. Fix it now while you still have time to save yourself, Chloe, please. You have so much to live for; you have to stay alive so that you can finally have your happily ever after.” My body shifts toward him until I’m lying comfortably on the soft grass. I don’t answer him, I can’t, my mouth is as numb as my brain.

A bright light shines into my eyes then goes away. Something cold presses into my ear. I can hear Skye, the sound of his voice sends a warm surge of emotions through me. His words sound far off and I can’t make them out. Everything goes still and silent, an intense feeling of serenity settles over my body for the first time in months.

“Tom what are you—don’t you dare! Get back… no, please no… stop. Ahhhhhh.” I laugh as I watch the six-year-old version of myself running from six-year-old Tom and his water gun loaded with watered down ketchup.

“Don’t Tom me,” he squeals in a high pitch tone. “You give me back my soldiers and I won’t squirt you.”

“I don’t have them!” I scream back.

“Yes you do,” he argues.

“No I don’t, I swear.”

He points the gun at my Babs Bunny t-shirt and looks through the plastic sight on the gun.

“Last chance, Chloe. Hand over my soldiers or someone’s going to die. Ya better hurry up, it’s about to get really bloody.” He laughs.

“I don’t—” I start to say. He cuts me off by spraying me with ice cold, watered down ketchup. The red colored liquid soaks my shirt, gets in my hair, and I just know I’m going to be in so much trouble when I go home.

I start crying hysterically, which is a mistake because it draws the attention of my mother. She comes out of the house in a full fury.

“What have you done?” she screams. When she reaches me, she grabs me by the back of my neck and squeezes me painfully. With her fingernails digging harshly into my skin, she drags me toward the house.

I try to look back at Tom, but my movements cause her nails to pierce my skin. I move my feet faster, trying to keep up with her. The moment the door closes, my small body is flung across the room. The dining room wall stops my movement. As I collide with the unmoving wall, the oval mirror falls from its perch and lands on my shoulder, then hits the floor and smashes into a hundred pieces.

“You stupid brat! Look what you did!” She moves to me in a flash. I pull all my limbs into my body, holding myself together tightly in fear, waiting for the blow I know is coming. When it doesn’t come, I visibly relax.

When I open my eyes and look up, I’m no longer in the house, time has sped up and it’s hours later. I’m hiding in the woods behind my house with Tom in our makeshift tree-house. “Chloe, I promise they will never hurt you again. I’ll be your big brother and I’ll protect you forever from everyone!” His child-like voice shakes with the emotions no child should have to ever feel. Pain, fear, heartache, it’s all there, causing his voice to tremble and tears to leak from his eyes.

I look up into his eyes. “You promise?”

“Always. They’ll never hurt you again. I love you Chloe, forever and more. I promise.”

He wraps his arms around me as I wipe at the dried blood caked on my upper lip from my swollen nose. We stay like this most of the night until the sun peeks above the pine, indicating that it was time to go. We reluctantly pull away from the other and silently trek to our homes. We’ve been friends a long time by this point, but this was the night that sealed our relationship as brother and sister.

After that day, I was hurt again. Over and over I was forced to endure a pain no child should ever have to feel, but each time, Tom was there to pick up the pieces and glue me back together.

Everything goes hazy, I bat my eyes, and suddenly I’m several years older.

“Chloe, run!” he shouts from the large water oak he’s just scaled. I can hear something thundering in my direction, but I don’t see what it is. My heart hammers in time with the four feet pounding in my direction.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a giant, black beast barreling straight at me. My feet start moving faster than they have ever moved before. My arms pump hard, my lungs and legs burn from the exertion. I can see a small glimmer of light bouncing off the barbwire fence, so I head in that direction.

Right when I’m about to dive under the fence, I hear Tom whooping and screaming, the pounding sound is moving in the opposite direction. The barbwire painfully cuts into my leg and without looking, I know that it’s deep and gushing blood. I roll onto my back and crab crawl until my back hits a tree.

It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, I’m horrified at what I see. “Run, Tom! RUN!” I scream into the still night. Tom doesn’t hear me yelling at him over the sound of his own voice screaming in panic. The bull is dead on his tail, chasing him in the direction of an old barn. Tom clears the metal panel that closes off the entrance to the barn in one leap.

As soon as his feet hit the dirt, he’s off again in a flash of stirred dust and panic. I run as fast as I can on the outside of the fence. My eyes never leave the pissed off bull that’s ramming his head into the thick metal of the gate. His large curved horns clanging loudly against the heavy iron, but it’s still not loud enough to drown out his angry snarls.

“Chloe! Where are you?”

Instead of answering him, I pump my arms and legs faster. His silhouette moves closer to me at a quickened pace. The only thing that stops our movements is the ground as we crash into each other.

“What were you thinking? You could have been killed!” I screech.

“I was thinking you were going to end up a Chloe kabob if I didn’t do something, so I just reacted.” As he says this, he climbs off of me.

“Don’t you ever do that again. I thought that thing was going to kill you,” I say between heavy pants.

“Forever and more.” Those three words can shut me up faster than anything can. I know what they meant to him, to me, and to our relationship. He was keeping his promise the best way he knew how, even though it meant almost getting himself killed.

We lie silently in the grass, staring at the stars, each lost in our own thoughts for some time before the dew fell and a chill seeped into my bones.

I can feel something wet rolling down my cheeks. I try to reach up to wipe them away, but my arms are like lead by my side. The beeping is interrupted by voices. “She’s going to be all right, right?” That sounds like Sally.

“Physically yes, emotionally, I’m not so sure,” the man states.

“Well, what’s going to happen now?” Sally asks.

“We’re keeping her tonight and putting her under a psychological observation. Once we determine if she’s suicidal or not, we will release her, depending on how she does.” Psychological observation? What the hell? Why would they think I needed to be observed psychologically?

“What about the baby?” Sally’s voice trembles in fear. Baby? What the fuck are they talking about?

“Luckily, we were able to pump her stomach and stabilize the baby before there was any critical damage. I am going to have to report this to Social Services and demand that she take a drug counseling program until she’s rehabilitated,” the man states.

My heart accelerates as the word baby replays continuously in my mind. Baby… I’m pregnant! What the fuck is happening? Everything has been spinning out of control lately, making me feel like I have been falling helplessly into a pit of despair but now, I feel like I just hit the jagged rock bottom. I’m pregnant? I can’t be, they’re wrong, they have to be. I’ve taken the Depo shot every three months for the last five years.

I try to remember the last time I had my shot, and when it dawns on me, I feel sick. The last time I had the shot was two months before I met Skye. Skye! Oh, shit, what’s he going to say! How in the hell am I going to tell him? Shit, shit, shit, I’m not ready for this!

“Ms. Thomas, are you with us?” the man says. I had forgotten that I wasn’t alone. I want to cry, to scream that he’s lying, that I’m not pregnant. Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse, it does. I don’t need a kid right now. How am I supposed to take care of someone when I can barely cope with my own shit?

Oh God!
How far along am I? I’ve been drinking and taking pills for months now. Last night is a vague memory, but I remember being hammered. I was pregnant last night. Guilt consumes me at the thought of what I did and it possibly harming the little life inside of me. I try to move my hand toward my abdomen to touch the little part of me swimming in there.

“Ms. Thomas, can you hear me?” the man questions again. I groan in discomfort. My head is pounding, my heart is racing, and my gut is churning. I force my eyes open, only to be blinded by bright, florescent lights and slamming them closed again.

“Welcome back. You gave us quite the scare, Chloe.” I try to open my eyes again, going at a much slower pace. After batting them a few times, the familiar face of Dr. Jacobs comes into view. I give him a weak smile and he returns the gesture.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. Here we go again with the stupid question. I apparently drank too much last night since I’m here instead of being at home. How does he think I feel?

I don’t voice my thoughts out loud and opt for the more polite answer. “Not too great, doc.”

“Good,” he says sternly. I give him a questioning look before he elaborates further. “I think we have enough of a history and understanding that I can be blunt with you. Am I correct to assume this?” I nod and he then goes on, “After your last two visits, I was under the impression you were a good girl with a great head on her shoulders. Last night’s episode proved me wrong about you. What were you thinking? I’m rather disappointed in you. I have one question for you; did you know you were pregnant?”

The tears spring from my eyes before I can bat them away. They fall like a summer downpour, drowning out the “no” I whisper between shudders. His finger hitches under my chin, carefully lifting my face so that I meet his eyes. The familiar blue-grey color meets my green.

“Chloe, I know you know that mixing the meds with alcohol is wrong. You’re an adult and you have to accept the consequences of your actions. Luckily, they aren’t as bad as they could have been. You do realize that things could have been so much worse, right? You could have killed yourself and this baby. If you had arrived here minutes later, you wouldn’t be sitting here anymore.

“I’m going to have you talk to a Psychologist and I’m taking you off of the pain medication as well as the Xanax. Doctor Cox will be in to talk to you when we get you settled in a room. Now, we need to discuss the baby. Would you rather wait until Skye gets here or would you like to go ahead and discuss it? I need to examine the fetus again soon, but the heart monitor looks great. This kid is tough and has been through a lot, especially last night. I can’t promise that the medications and alcohol hasn’t affected him but from what I can see at this moment, he or she is fine.”

“I want to wait for Skye. I don’t want to talk about any of this until he gets here. Where is he?” I interrupt.

“He should be back at any moment. I sent him to get some of your belongings and your old medication. I can have it disposed of since you will no longer be on the medicine.” He smiles and stands. “Get some rest, Chloe; you had a long night. You don’t have only you to think about anymore.”

I don’t mean to, but I start crying again. “Chloe.” A hand lands softly on my shoulder. “It will all work out. Everything happens for a reason. Whether or not you wanted it to happen, it did, and now you adapt and keep pushing forward. Now get some rest.”

He leaves the room without looking back. My body quakes with unsteady nerves. I’m going to be a mom. I’m going to be a parent. There is going to be a little part of me growing inside of me, a part of me and Skye. Oh God, what’s he going to say? He’s not going to want this. He’s going to leave me when he finds out. How am I supposed to tell him I almost killed the baby and myself last night?