The Bookworm Next Door: The Expanded and Revised Edition (35 page)

              Caps were on.  Everybody was in nice neat-ish rows waiting to make their trek to the stage, shake the Principal’s hand, and be handed over a piece of paper that merely congratulated them on making it that far. 

              The real High School Diplomas would be mailed to them during the summer. 

              One of two students glanced over to where Hannah was sitting next to Kelly, hoping that she wouldn’t go into labor during Commencement.  They ignored her protests that she still had two more weeks to go, at least. 

              Taylor was still fuming; he hadn’t been able to talk himself back into the ceremony, having been kicked out for his profane exhibition when Mrs. Tucker revealed the class rankings.  His parents were angry; thankfully it was at their son and not at the school for standing by their position.  He’d still gotten an academic scholarship regardless of his display of temper. 

              They had left his seat vacant, using that as a subtle reminder for the upcoming Senior Class. 

              Grace looked over at where David and Delilah were sitting; they were probably holding hands where very few people could see them.  She wished that Kyle was sitting next to her.  She didn’t have a clue what was going to happen with her friends or her own relationship.  She only hoped for the best.   She knew she was lucky that she was going to the same school as Kyle. 

              David and Delilah didn’t have that luxury.  David had realized that it would be better for his degree if he went to a different college with a better Business, and later MBA, program than the school Delilah had decided on for her combined English and Education degree. 

              Wesley watched Jennifer, wondering if she was aware that they would be going to the same school: her for mathematics and him for engineering.  He wondered if he would be able to convince her that high school relationships could work out, even though in an hour or so they would no-longer be high school students.  Maybe he’d surprise her on campus instead.  Take her out for dinner.  Make study dates. 

              He knew she had been invited to Delilah’s sister’s wedding that would take place later that summer.  Maybe he’d offer to be her date.  The only thing he was certain of was that courting Jennifer Matheson was going to be a long game and he was more than willing to play it. 

              Everybody’s attention was directed to the stage as the ceremony began.  It was caught when London Summers took the stage to give her speech.

              “My fellow classmates, parents, friends, and family,” she began.  “Imagine my surprise to find out that I’d gone from fourth in the class to first.  It was something that nobody expected, but only one protested.”

              Looking out at her fellow graduates, she addressed them, “It makes me think about what we are about to experience.  A lot of moments that will be unexpected.  A lot of things that we will have to handle with either excitement or disappointment.  It’s how we handle these bumps in the road that will determine our character, not just from what we’ve already experienced, but what will come our way.  Are we going to throw tantrums and destroy things,” everybody glanced at either Taylor’s empty seat or in Aimee’s direction, “or are we going to tackle things head on with poise and class?  How we react will determine more about us as we leave this world and enter the next, be it college, tech school, or just the real world.  I’d like to think that we’ve already shown some of that by how we’ve reacted to what has already happened to some of us, how we took care of each other or dismissed somebody because they didn’t do what you think they should have.”  A few people looked at Hannah before looking away.  “This isn’t the best years of our life.  Our lives are just beginning.  I hope we all succeed and find out who we are.  Thank you.”

              A smattering of applause grew until everybody who could stand was standing for the valedictorian’s speech. 

              Finally they stood, line by line, until the last student, Jamie Zimmerman, had gotten her diploma. 

              “May I now present you with the Graduating Class of…” the principal’s voice was masked by the cheering and applause as the class stood and tossed their caps into the air. 

              Jennifer wondered what would happen next. 

              Everything was planned down to the smallest detail.  Pink and blue streamers were twisted together – Hannah and Brady were still the only people who knew the gender of their baby – and strung around the room as only the theatre and art students could manage. 

              There were ice cube trays that had little plastic babies frozen in the ice.  Delilah was amused by the fact that somebody would have to shout out, ‘My water broke!’ and secretly hoped that it would be somebody other than the guest of honor.  That would just be awkward. 

              Stacks of yellow and green wrapped presents sat on the tables, except for the yellow duckling wrapped box that somebody suspected was a crib from Hannah’s mother.  Mrs. Stanfield wasn’t able to sneak away to the party and had sent her present along via the Johnson clan.  There were even presents from members of the church! 

              A punchbowl filled with Sprite and rainbow sherbet sat next to a cake.  Both were surrounded by empty cups just waiting for baby filled ice cubes. 

              Hannah started to cry as soon as she entered the room and was surrounded by her friends from school and both Bible Study classes. 

              “You can’t cry!” Kelly shouted.  “We have to play the toilet paper game!” 

              Brady gave a half-hearted groan as he saw Hannah streaming a cooking competition that had aired the night before.  He knew that cooking wasn’t her ultimate goal, but conceded that her ability to cook would help her reach her career goals.  She intended to cook her way through pharmacy school. 

              Secretly, he admitted that watching kids competing in food competitions was strangely addicting.  It was humbling to know that ten-year-olds could cook better than he could.  Boxed macaroni and cheese with a can of tuna could only go so far, and he couldn’t even treat Hannah to cooking a meal for her because she had been advised to avoid tuna. 

              Feeling her snuggle into his side, Brady let out a silent breath of relief.  She was his and they would be connected forever by the little baby growing inside of her.  Placing a hand over her stomach, he waited to feel a kick. 

              Instead he felt a contraction.  “How long have you been feeling contractions?”

              “Hmm,” Hannah yawned.  “Only about every thirty to forty-five minutes.  I thought I’d relax and not worry you.  Mom told me to get of all the sleep I could get before I go into labor.  Dr. Clarke said to call him when they are at ten minutes apart or my water breaks.  I think she’s tired of how many times we rushed to the hospital already.  Besides, it’s probably just Braxton Hicks again, and I’m still due in two weeks.”  Yawning again, “I’m just so tired from Graduation and the dinner your parents insisted on, and the surprise baby shower afterwards.”

              She wasn’t worried.  Not really.  As many times as they had gone through the process of going to the hospital she felt as if she had everything down.  She knew that Brady was going to panic; he’d panicked every other time they went to the hospital.  Rationally, she knew that they only needed one person panicking at a time. 

              Hannah was the rational one of the couple.  Most of the time.

              And both parents had told her to sleep while she still could. 

              Brady started to panic while Hannah started to fall into a fitful sleep.  How she could sleep when she was having contractions was beyond him.  Maybe she was right and it was only Braxton Hicks and he was freaking out over nothing. 

              An hour later she woke up startled, “Brady, my water just broke.” 

              They had it all planned out.  Brady would call the doctor.  Hannah would grab her bag where it was waiting on a chair by the door.  They’d get in the truck and Hannah would call their parents while he drove to the hospital.

              What actually happened was Brady panicking while Hannah handed over her bag to him, causing her to start making all the phone calls between contractions and gritting her teeth during.  Brady buckled the bag into the passenger seat and backed away without Hannah.  After a few feet, he hurriedly pulled back into their parking space and Hannah got into the cab, still calling family members. 

              She’d panic in the delivery room.  If she visibly panicked right then it would only increase Brady’s worry.  

              She was more than ready to release her inner panic.

              Mrs. Stanfield came home from the hospital.  She didn’t know where her daughter’s life would go – eventually Hannah became a pharmacist – but as her mother she knew that Hannah’s life would be full of joy. 

              A gruff Mr. Stanfield grunted when he saw his wife.  “Well?”

              “They had a little boy.  They named him Charles Jonathan.”  She couldn’t imagine how her husband deserved the honor of sharing a middle name with the child, but Hannah had insisted.

              Snorting, Franklin Jonathan Stanfield went back to staring at the blank T.V. screen. 

              “She’s already forgiven you,” the wife stated to the husband’s head before going to bed.  “But you have to take that first step.”

              There were a few things that Aimee Kirkland expected out of college.  After a horrible Senior Year of High School, she expected things to go much more smoothly than the past year.  This year she would find her ‘Happily Ever After’ and friends that would not stab her in the back.

              She didn’t count on her lack of people skills.

              Her first class of the summer semester was interesting to say the least.  There were at least five fellow classmates from James Madison High School.  Three of them recognized her at first sight and started furiously whispering to their new friends. 

              “Beware the boyfriend stealer.”

              “Watch out for her; she’ll stab you in the back.”

              “That girl is a bitch, plain and simple.”

              The other two were a year older than her and didn’t care that the infamous Aimee Kirkland was in their class.  They actually had more to say about her sister and her mother. 

              Everybody had something to say about her mother’s divorce, which hadn’t really happened.  You can’t get a divorce when you were never actually married.  It was almost the best kept secret in town.  Aimee’s paternity was the best kept secret. 

              To date she had discovered that she had three half-sisters and two half-brothers, a biological father, a ‘step’ father, two ‘step’ mothers, and a biological mother.  Amanda, Bridgette, and Collette.  Adam and Kyle.  Mr. Brent Goldman.  Mr. Parker Franks.  Mrs. Kimberly Goldman.  Denise Kirkland.  

              The list of names felt endless. 

              She needed to start a list of names to avoid.  The last thing she wanted to do was rehash her stupid mistakes.  It didn’t matter than she’d been desperate at the time.  Those moments of idiocrasy were going to follow her around everywhere. 

              Aimee didn’t know that things were about to get worse before they could get better. 

“What do you mean you had an abortion?”  Aimee looked at her sister in shock.

              Letting out a deep breath, Amanda started telling her little sister about her twenty-first birthday.  “I already had a reputation.  I thought if I was ‘nice’ to the guys I’d have a better chance at finding Mr. Right.  I thought I had; in fact for months I was only seriously seeing one guy, but that didn’t matter to him.  My reputation as easy had already been made even though I was only doing what the guys had been doing.  Frank didn’t care about the fact that I was only sleeping with him.  The night of my twenty-first birthday I drank too much and thought I could trust Frank and his friends to take me home.  At some point I either blacked out or passed out, I don’t know which.”  She stopped talking as she got lost in her memories.

              Aimee felt uncomfortable.  She had a feeling about what her sister was having trouble telling her. 

              “A month later I found out that I was pregnant.  I went straight to Frank and told him the news.  He laughed and said that he couldn’t be the only potential father.”  Closing her eyes, “When I told him that he was the only person I’d had sex with for months, he laughed again and told me about what happened the night of my birthday.” 

              This time Amanda turned to look at her sister.  “I considered reporting…” she took a deep breath before continuing.  “I considered reporting the rape.  I wasn’t in a position to consent.”  She turned away from Aimee.  “I knew that the court of public opinion wouldn’t be in my favor.  I’d been with too many guys and too many of them talked.  Too many of them were friends with Frank.  I knew that if I reported what had happened to me that I’d end up having to transfer schools and I was already so close to my degree that I didn’t want to have to go back and take extra classes just to get the required hours needed to graduate.  I needed eight classes and transferring I would have to take at least ten, not counting whatever classes didn’t transfer.” 

              Aimee sat silently as she watched the internal struggle her sister was relaying.  “That’s why you never came home this past year.”  She thought about all of the things that Amanda had missed Aimee doing and all of the text messages and e-mails that had been left unanswered.  How many things would her sister have prevented if Amanda had talked to Aimee sooner?

              “I struggled with telling Mom about what happened with Frank.  I struggled about telling Mom about my surprise pregnancy.”  Amanda started staring at the wall.  “I considered keeping the baby, but didn’t know how I could handle being a single mother.  Then everybody on campus would be aware that I’d screwed up.  I’d be the laughingstock of the campus.”  Even to her own ears her excuses sounded weak.  “Honestly, every single time I thought about carrying a baby from… that… experience…  It didn’t matter that I couldn’t remember what happened.  It did matter that the very person that I trusted, that I thought was the right person for me… that he… had no problem… violating me like he did.” 

              The younger Kirkland daughter sat frozen.  Neither daughter was aware that their mother was standing in the doorway listening to every single word.  Aimee was staring transfixed at her sister’s story and Amanda was still staring blankly at the wall. 

              “It took me weeks to deal with the fact that Frank had brought his friends into our bedroom life without my permission.  That they dared laugh at the fact that one of them was going to be a father.  I knew the odds where in Franks favor, but what if it wasn’t his?  What if it was one of the other two guys?  Two guys that I don’t even know the names of?”  She took a deep breath.  “It took me weeks to decide to get an abortion.  I waffled back and forth about it.  I could give the baby up for adoption and I would never have to take care of it past the forty weeks it was in my uterus.” 

              Denise Kirkland looked at her elder daughter and realized just how close she had come to being a grandmother.  Then she realized that her elder daughter hadn’t even come to her when everything was happening. 

              “I knew that I couldn’t be mother.  I wasn’t about to use this pregnancy to trap Frank, or anybody, into a relationship like Mom done to Dad,” Amanda sobbed.  “And what if the baby was a boy?  How was I supposed to teach him right from wrong and be a good role model when I never had one?  I was taught to hang onto your man no matter what tactics had to be employed.  We both were.  Look at where we are.  You almost had an arrest record for vandalizing David Carver’s car – don’t think I haven’t been reading your e-mails – and I was going to go into my Senior year of college as a single mother.”

              Standing up, she still didn’t see their mother standing in the doorway as Amanda started to pace.  “I stopped eating.  Some days it was nearly impossible to get out of bed and go to class, but I knew that I needed to.  My so-called friends drifted away because they couldn’t deal with how moody I’d become.  They couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t drink with them when they went out at night.  Why certain smells made me nauseous.”

              Looking right at her sister, “So after weeks of going back and forth between giving up the baby and getting an abortion, I finally settled on the one thing that I thought would restore my world order.”  Closing her eyes, “All it did was make things worse.  That was the worst decision of my life.  Worse than trusting Frank and having sex with all of those other people.”

              Aimee sat motionless.  She didn’t know where to start.  “You’re on the pill…”

              Amanda let out an emotionless laugh.  The dry, hollow sound echoed in the room.  “Birth control fails.  Antibiotics negate the birth control aspect of the pill.  No form of contraceptive is infallible.  Frank knew I was on the pill, but he also knew that I was taking an antibiotic too.  It didn’t matter to him.”  She blanked out at her statement. 

              What could she tell her sister that the spoiled younger girl would understand?  How could she negate all the ‘teachings’ that she herself and their mother had instructed?  It had taken most of the semester for Amanda to realize just how wrong many of those toxic ideals were.  It took a therapist to help her see that she had been going about trying to figure out how to be happy with her life all wrong. 

              “You aren’t happy,” she finally stated.  “Even I can tell that you aren’t happy.  You’re stuck at the community college with half of your former high school classmates all because you didn’t pay as much attention to your grades as you did the boys.” 

              “I am too happy!” Aimee protested, lying to them both. 

              “No.  If you were happy you wouldn’t be complaining about being single.  About how half of the people you meet don’t want to have anything to do with you.  Your reputation preceded you and girlfriends don’t want you even innocently studying with their boyfriends in the middle of the Student Union.  I know you because I lived it already.  Eventually you’ll turn your attention to the smarmy guys who only want one thing.  Your reputation will worsen, even if you transfer somewhere else.  There is always somebody who knows.  A friend at one college who listened to her best friend’s woes about you stealing her boyfriend.”  She took a deep breath, “Don’t become me.  Don’t become Mom.” 

              Amanda stood up to leave the room, noticing that their mother was standing in the doorway.

              Without blinking, mother slapped daughter across the face, “How dare you!”

              Not even shedding a tear, Amanda faced her mother, “No, Mom, how dare you?  How can you lead us to believe that we need a man in our lives in order to love ourselves?  How dare you tell us that we have to uphold a certain level of popularity in order to be happy?  Life does not work that way.”  She turned to her sister, “You need to learn to love yourself before you can fully love somebody else.  Don’t make my mistakes.”