Never Forever (3 page)

“Why not? It’s just going to be my brother and a few of our friends. They will love you. Besides, this will be a great way to forget about your problems.”

If she only knew how it would just make my problems so much worse, “Thank you, but I don’t think it will be the best place for me right now. Besides, I don’t drink.”

Her eyes widen as her bottom jaw drops, revealing her gaping mouth, “Wow. You don’t drink. Drinking tea and meeting at the pubs for a pint is a big thing here in England.” A sarcastic laugh pushes out of her, “What, are you pregnant?”

Though Olivia is just kidding, a searing surge shoots through my core causing an internal pain to envelop me. The once hard and protective shell shielding my core rips wide open. Tears fall heavily down my cheeks. I foolishly believed I was going to be able to hide my pregnancy from everyone. This is something I thought I didn’t want to talk about, but her guess leaves me with a sense of relief encapsulating me. I have been going through all the pain and uncomfortable struggles by myself. As my tears resume I gaze up straight into her eyes whispering, “Yes.”

Olivia’s face drops, the once gaping mouth reappears, only wider, “Bloody hell. You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant,” though my voice is soft it is laced with frank honesty.

I watch as the disbelief flows down her body like air pressing out of a deflating balloon. She drops down right next to me, forcing me to scoot over onto the edge of the bench. Her wide eyed expression stares straight ahead, not even acknowledging what she is staring at. This is the first time I actually have seen Olivia speechless. Regret slowly consumes me with the fact that I perhaps should not have revealed my predicament to her. I don’t know her well enough to know how she is going to handle this kind of information. Though this is just the tip of my iceberg, this is my hell, not hers, and I should have kept it that way.

“I have to see this for myself,” she declares, in complete frankness.

Turning towards me she lifts up my sweater and places her hand on my stomach. My frozen body shatters, causing me to jump back slightly with the intrusive touch of her hand. The invasion of privacy vibrates into my core as I sit motionless watching this molesting of my stomach take place. I always knew this type of invasion is a very common occurrence for pregnant women. Once someone’s baby bump is showing their stomach becomes public property for anyone to touch. But because I have been successfully able to hide mine with large sweaters or jackets, I have not experienced it before – until now.

“Blow me. You’re very pregnant.”

My rigid body remains motionless as I gaze down at her hand still firmly placed on my now exposed stomach, “Yes. I’m almost nine months.”

“How old are you?” she innocently inquires.

“I am eighteen.”

“You’re the same age as me.”

“I know,” stating frankly, considering I have been assuming she is my age the whole time.

“How?” Her hand grips my stomach like a basketball.

I gaze up at her with a wide eyed expression. My face must be revealing the question running through my mind, because she immediately gives a rebuttal to her previous statement.

Her cheeks flush a soft pink color, quickly adding, “I know you need to have sex in order to get pregnant. I just mean, how were you able to hide this, thus far?”

Slowly I reach down, grabbing her hand, gently removing it from my exposed mid-section. Pulling my sweater back down over my pronounced stomach, I anxiously adjust it, making sure every part of my torso is protectively covered. A ringing stings my ears as a tingling sensation pricks my mind with a fear of swarming questions to come. I can’t tell her any more, but I can’t chance losing my only possible friend either. My hands begin aggressively twisting and turning around each other as I brutally take out my nervousness on them.

“I am actually not that big for how far along I am. But I was successfully – until now – able to hide it with my loose fitting clothes. I would really prefer to keep it that way, too.”

Olivia’s furrow between her eyes deepens as she stares at me with a questionable gaze, “You know you won’t be able to hide it for very much longer.”

“Yes, I know. But I am at least hoping to make it to the mid-term break.”

A laugh suddenly escapes out of her, “That’s a bleeding good plan. But I will be surprised if that happens. You may not be showing very much, but since you are almost nine months along then you are knocking on that delivery door.”

The reality of what she says pulsates through me. I knew I would be taking a chance of going into labor while in the middle of this term, but I had to come here. I couldn’t stay where I was any longer. I had to leave before I was destroyed. Though I am far from the surroundings I am used to, this is exactly what I need right now.

The cool, damp air washes over me, leaving shimmering droplets of water all over my clothes and hair. The thick mist slowly pours down over everything. The once sunny and bright day is beginning to be overtaken by the invading clouds rolling in. The light is extinguished by the haze, leaving only gloom and darkness. Everything around me and within me reflects my feelings, like the consuming darkness has won.

As I sit here in silence contemplating my situation, I watch the swarms of people running around in the mist having a carefree time. The sounds of their happiness are muffled by the intense veil of haze now enveloping all of us. Heavy droplets of water fall from my now curly brown hair.

Olivia’s voice cuts through the thick haze I am in, “I don’t know about you, but I can’t sit here in this anymore. I am getting soaked.”

“If you want to go, you can. It is okay with me,” my voice is gruff under the circumstances.

“What do you think I am, some sort of wanker? I am not leaving you here. You are coming with me whether you want to or not.” Standing up she grabs tightly onto my hand.

“No, I can’t go and you now know why,” I utter forcefully, trying to fight the tight grasp she has on me. Though Olivia’s frame is petite she is extremely strong for her size. She tightens her grip around my arms while she continues pulling me up from the bench.

“Just because you are in this state doesn’t mean you can’t have fun. You are coming with me even if I have to bloody drag you the whole way. You are still young and deserve to let loose and have some fun. So let’s go.”

Cat’s Out of the Bag

Olivia has to practically drag me the entire way. I try to come up with a million and one reasons as to why I can’t go with her to the pub, but she isn’t listening to me. She drags me down a narrow street lined by quaint four-story row houses, where the bottom floors are filled with commercial institutes. Each row building is unique in its style, giving the street a mystical illusion, as if everything has stepped back in time. The charming street gently curves, allowing me to see the details of the intricate buildings. Hanging on the outside of all the businesses are traditional oval signs, enhancing the archaic yet picturesque feeling to the street. No cars are allowed on this street, making me feel as if I too have stepped back in time. As the night approaches it brings with it swarms of people heading to the multiple pubs and restaurants lining this trendy lane.

My nerves abruptly explode as we stop in front of an enchanting pub called The Black Cat. The front has two very large paned windows situated on the bottom floor of a Tudor style building. I grab Olivia’s hand tightly in nervous reaction, and she gives my hand a gentle and reassuring squeeze back. As Olivia swings the door open a bell hanging on the inside rings loudly, causing everyone nearby to turn in our direction. Loud cheers from the back of the small and modest pub echo towards us.

“Olivia, we are back here!” someone shouts.

Olivia starts to head back when I abruptly stop, causing her arm to be yanked hard, “Buggers, Breanna. That hurt.”

“Sorry, but can I at least go to the bathroom, the loo, first and make myself somewhat presentable before I meet your brother and friends?” She stands here quietly observing me like a bounty hunter scrutinizing her skipper that is ready to escape at any moment.

“Aye, but if you don’t come back I will come after you,” she states with a half-smile slightly curling up the edges of her mouth. I am not sure if it is a joke or if she is serious, either way I am not about to test her. She is stubborn enough and strong enough to take me down.

“I promise I will meet you back there,” pointing to the back of the pub where everyone is waiting for her.

Apprehensively I walk out of the bathroom, knowing I did the best I could to freshen myself up by calming down my soaked, curly hair and putting on some lip gloss. As I approach the back I can hear all the loud laughter coming from their group. Abruptly I stop when I recognize a low, yet smooth voice speaking up.

“Aye, today was a mess during our lecture. I was about ready to bloody throttle my partner. Thank God she decided to storm out of the classroom instead.”

A high-pitched female voice chimes in, “What was Professor Bramble thinking when he bloody put you two together?”

“It had to be because of our last names,” he utters, with a twinge of an unexplained emotion looming within the statement.

Silently I watch from the background as this berating dance takes place. Complete irritation and disbelief collides within me. Out of everyone in the school Olivia’s friends have to be the jerks from my class. Instantly the urge to run consumes me, no matter the possible repercussions from Olivia when she confronts me later.

Quickly I turn to leave, when I hear Olivia’s voice cut through all the rumbling echoes within the pub.

“Back here!” she shouts sharply with a commanding tone in her voice, as if she is aware of what I am about to do.

Slowly I turn around, noticing Callum’s wide eyes and frozen expression as he picks up his bottom jaw off of the floor. Mustering up every little bit of confidence I have within me, I stand erect, walking with an air of self-assurance towards the now stunned group.

Olivia stands up to greet me, turning to her friends she utters, “This is my friend from America, Bre…”

“Breanna,” Callum interrupts.

“Yes. How did you know, Callum?”

I stand with my chin erect, staring deep into his eyes, as if daring him to continue with the criticizing conversation he has been entertaining. Olivia begins alternating her gaze between Callum and me, taking in our visual battle. Her eyes narrow with a sudden realization of something, “Let me guess, Breanna, the arse in your lecture today is my one and only sod of a brother.”

Callum turns hastily, gazing angrily up at Olivia, “Who in the bloody hell are you calling an arse? This girl,” he nods his head aggressively, gesturing towards me, “was being just as much of an arse as I was.”

“Excuse me, but I am standing right here, and I am going to defend myself. You were passing judgments on me in class that you had no right to do,” I snap, while my body stiffens in reaction towards my accuser.

“Judgments, you say? I think you were doing fairly well at passing your own judgments,” Callum remains comfortably reclined in his chair as he surveys me with scrutinizing eyes. His lackadaisical attitude towards me and my feelings infuriates me. My eyes bore deep into his caramel eyes as the rage swirls within me.

“Callum, don’t get your knickers in a twist. She is just Miss Emotional.”

“Sod off Emily, you wanker! You don’t know anything,” Olivia breaks in.

“On the contrary, Olivia, I was there. I know a lot more than you do,” Emily snaps back. Emily’s sharp, clean voice balances nicely against her thick British accent. Her long, dark hair blends perfectly with her smooth olive complexion. Every detail of her has been flawlessly put together. Not a single strand of hair is even out of place. It appears to be that way with everyone here, but me and Olivia. Olivia’s natural beauty, however, supersedes all of the girls’ plastic made up enhancements. Though Olivia and I are products of the recent weather condition, Olivia still looks as if she belongs on the pages of a magazine. When an English woman’s features are exquisitely put together by her maker, her beauty is unmatched. This is definitely the case with Olivia. She is absolutely stunning on the outside and on the inside.

I watch as Olivia and the others begin arguing back and forth. They are speaking so fast and with such thick accents, I can only understand a few words here and there. Several swear words are thrown into the mix of British derogatory statements. I feel like I am in another country that does not speak English. There is no way for me to even defend myself, because I can’t even understand enough to join in. As I turn towards Callum I notice he is just staring at me in an amused sort of fashion. His eyes glisten with sheer enjoyment as he watches me fidget in my uncomfortable situation. A coy smile creeps into the outer edges of his full lips. Staring at me with an air of arrogance, he reaches over, patting the seat of the empty chair next to him.

My eyes narrow with mere curiosity, stating flatly, “Why?”

“Why not? I won’t bite,” a slight smile appears as the words roll off his tongue, “This time.”

Gazing back at him I decide to challenge his game of poker. Sucking in my internal strength I proceed to walk over to the illustrious awaiting chair. Turning the chair in his direction I sit directly across from him, trying to match his nonchalant attitude as I meet his gaze head on. His face reveals a slight amusement towards my parallel response and my ultimate wager I am placing on this obvious game he is playing. Throwing my bet into the pot, I utter in a smooth voice, “I am not afraid of getting bit.”

His eyes widen as a sly smile lifts the corners of his mouth, “Really, then what are you afraid of? I know you are not here for the bloody weather.” His smooth voice gets deeper, causing the inflections within his brogue to increase. I am not sure if this is a reaction caused from nerves or by his sheer delight over the fact that he has just raised the bet. His gaze never leaves mine, locking me into his penetrating eyes. I try to match his as I fight back the anxiety rolling within me. An uneasy twinge in the pit of my stomach turns, causing the baby to kick me violently. For just a brief moment I had forgotten that I am pregnant, but this sudden movement instantly brings me back to reality. Callum has raised the bet, but I am not about to play my hand. No matter how much I try to bluff, this is a game I will ultimately lose.

Trying to fold my hand in this game, I state flatly, “I am here to go to school, that is all. Why is it such a mystery that an American wants to come to a University in England?”

He suddenly leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees while resting his chin on his knuckles. His strong, masculine features cause my heart to race as his stimulating eyes bore deep into mine. His face is now just within a foot or two from mine, causing me to nervously push myself further back in my chair. “That’s bollocks. There is more to you than meets the eye.”

His statement sends a competitive wave throughout me. Though his features are perfectly put together, like his sister’s, his is heaving with intense masculinity and sexual confidence. His immediate proximity to me causes an unexplained uneasiness to quiver within the pit of my stomach, slowly consuming me. Trying to retain my poker face, I breathe in as I call his bluff, leaning forward to meet his gaze. Our faces are now just within inches of each other. Embracing my competitive edge I look deep into his caramel eyes with my hazel green eyes, stating flatly, “And don’t you wish you knew?” A slight satisfied smile spreads across my face.

“Yes, I do,” he adds resolutely. Instantly he grabs hold of the back of my head, pressing his lips firmly against mine, tightly holding me against him. Mere shock vibrates through me as his warm lips move passionately over mine. His kiss has an unfamiliar edge to it, as his lips move with tender speed, like this is his only way to discover my secrets. At first, the touch of someone’s kiss on my lips sends a wave of pleasure through me, but the moment does not last long. Rage begins pulsating within my core, superseding the sensation of pleasure. How dare he throw himself on me like this! Instantly I push him away, slapping his face with great force. The palm of my hand tingles with a numbing pain where it connected with Callum’s skin. Turning towards the group, I notice everyone staring at us in complete shock.

Fervently I push my chair away from him, “Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Callum, you bloody wanker!” Olivia snaps. “What in the hell were you thinking, kissing her like that?”

Gently massaging the side of his face he glances over at Olivia, “I wasn’t thinking, obviously, or I wouldn’t have gotten bloody slapped across the face.”

“I wouldn’t have just slapped you, you sod.” Olivia turns towards me, “Are you alright Breanna? I am so sorry about my brother. He’s not usually like this. He must be completely pissed.”

A feeling of nausea washes over me as a swarm of mixed emotions overpowers me. One part of me is flattered by the attention and the feeling of someone desiring me again. I have missed that intimacy towards me. At the same time a feeling of betrayal rips through me, tainting everything within me with a vile taste. I need to get out of here, “Don’t worry about it Olivia. I think I am going to head back to my flat though.”

“Okay. I will go with you.”

“No, I will just catch a taxi.”

“No, really, I am going with you and you are not stopping me,” she firmly adds.

As we start to leave Callum yells out, “I am sorry Breanna. I didn’t realize.”

Turning towards him, I utter questioningly, “You didn’t realize what?”

The side of his face still burns a flaming red color from the slap I inflicted upon him, “I didn’t realize that you are queer.”

Shock instantly washes over me. I have had enough of his arrogant attitude for one night. I don’t care if it is because he is, as they say, pissed.

“You think I am gay just because I didn’t respond to your forceful kiss?”

Olivia, who has been standing next to me in utter astonishment towards her brother, couldn’t hold in her anger any longer, “Sod off you bloody bastard! You have no idea what you are talking about. I love you Callum, but right now I don’t like you very much.”

“Stay out of this Sis. You know nothing about her. As far as you know she may have a thing for you,” Callum chimes in.

“She doesn’t have anything for me other than as a friend. She is here all by herself. And besides, you bloody idiot, she can’t be queer. You have to like having sex with men in order to get pregnant.”

A still silence takes over the room as everyone’s mouths fall wide open. Instantly my heart drops as I look down at Callum’s face. His eyes widen to the size of silver dollars as he stares at me in total disbelief. An uncomfortable wave rushes over me and I feel as if I am standing in front of everyone completely naked. Their eyes bore right through my clothes, trying to see this mystical baby bump which has eluded them. Instinctively, I wrap my arms protectively around myself, trying to hide my virtual nakedness. Callum’s eyes drop down to the floor as if it is made of glass, allowing him to see to the center of the earth. His eyes will no longer meet my gaze, as if embarrassment has consumed him. He just silently sits staring at the floor as everyone else visually rips my clothes off, causing me to feel sick.