Deep Down (Lockhart Brothers #1) (4 page)

“What the hell, Ivy?” she said, stepping inside. “You said you never gave it up to Levi. Is this why you guys broke up? Does he know?”

I answered her question with one of my own, “Did you bring it?”

She reached into her bag and pulled out a plastic sack, handing it to me.

“Thanks,” I said weakly. “You don’t have to stay.”

“Like hell. I’m staying. Let’s open that bitch so you can pee on it.”

I read the instructions, drowning out her questions about who and when and why. She followed me into the bathroom.

“Ivy.” She grabbed my arm. “It is Levi’s, right? Or . . . ?”

“Look, I have to focus on this right now.”

“Sure, sure. Go ahead.”

I peed on the stick and then sat on the lid of the toilet seat to wait, burying my head in my hands.

One line, not pregnant. Two lines, pregnant. One line, and I can get through this. Two lines, and I don’t know if I can be strong enough to face the future. One line, and my father did something terrible to me. Two lines, and I’m in a world of trouble.

My hand shook as I picked up the stick to look at the results. Regina was looking over my shoulder.

“Two lines?” she said. “What’s that mean?”

I let the stick fall to the floor. It meant the end of everything.

Regina’s eyes widened and she bit her lip in an attempt to conceal her smile.

“Oh my God, Ivy. Oh. My. God. What are you going to do? Is it Levi’s?”

“I just . . . I don’t . . .” The tears came hard and fast. “Can you please not tell anyone about this, Regina?
Please.
I need some time to . . .”

“Are you gonna get an abortion?”

I reached for the sink counter to brace myself against the dizziness. “I need to lay down. I’m sorry, you have to go. I’ll pay you back . . . later.”

She waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Text me later, OK?”

“Sure.”

I followed her to the door and opened it for her.

“Are you gonna tell Levi?” she asked again.

“I can’t . . . talk about this right now. I’ll talk to you later.”

I closed the door behind her, covering my mouth to stifle a sob. Instinct drove me toward my bedroom. This time, I didn’t look over at my mom’s picture in the hallway. I couldn’t stand to see it right now.

Numbness set in. I couldn’t think about anything. I locked my bedroom door, buried myself under my covers and let exhaustion swallow me.

NO ONE SPOKE TO
me at school the next morning, but everyone was sure looking at me. And they weren’t the kind of glances I was used to. These looks were similar to Regina’s: shocked amusement.

Lunch was the worst. Instead of sitting with friends at my usual table, I sat in a chair in the student lounge and read a book while forcing myself to eat a grilled chicken sandwich. Not eating wasn’t an option anymore. The baby inside me deserved to grow and be healthy. Now that I knew the truth, in my mind, it was no different than holding a newborn in my arms. I’d cradle that baby, feed it and keep it warm. I was holding this baby inside me, and I would care for it.

“Hey,” a deep male voice said. I looked up from my paperback. It was John McGinnis. He played football with Levi. In true jock fashion he wore his letterman jacket even though it wasn’t cold inside the school. “I heard you’re knocked up. That true?”

What a jerk. I sighed deeply. Had I really thought Regina would keep things quiet? Though I had my suspicions about how, overnight, I had turned into a pariah at Lexington High School, this question from McGinnis confirmed it.

“Is it any business of yours?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Levi said he never fucked you. Did you cheat on him?”

“Again, John—not your business. Go away. I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

“You’re a little whore. He never messed around on you. Guy had to have the bluest balls ever, but he never fucked around. And you let some other guy pop your cherry?”

My cheeks burned with anger and embarrassment. I looked down at my book, ignoring him. After a few seconds, he walked away. People around me stared and whispered.

How many times since I started high school had I seen someone else treated badly? Had I ever been one of the people whispering?

I had. I wasn’t like Regina, who spread gossip around for fun, but I’d sure listened to my fair share and sometimes I’d reacted. I’d listened to talk that was none of my business. And now I was finding out how it felt to be on the other end.

When I’d been upset about high school drama in the past, my mom had always reminded me that it would pass and not to get too caught up in it. But this wouldn’t pass. Not now, not ever. I was irrevocably changed.

The next couple of weeks passed in a fog. I couldn’t think past whatever day it was. Survival was all I could manage and I focused on schoolwork and worried about what the future held for me. And sometimes, lots of times, I was sure I couldn’t hold on any longer.

There was no escape. Even when I slept, it was fitful. When I dreamed, it was usually about my father’s crushing weight on top of me. The horror never faded. Every night, my subconscious experienced it anew.

Some nights I dreamed about my mom. Usually, every time I dreamed about her, she’d be in a hospital bed near death. But recently I saw the healthy, vibrant woman she’d been before getting sick. I’d hold on tightly and feel my pain pouring out as she smoothed a hand over my hair.

Waking up from those dreams was just as bad as waking up from the ones about my dad. Reality packed a cruel punch.

I’d started walking to school. Initially, I’d had no choice because Regina didn’t want to be seen with me anymore, so I didn’t have a ride. But it wasn’t so bad. The first few breaths of brisk winter air in the morning were the best part of my day. Walking allowed me to be alone. I was free from the stares and whispers. Free from the sick worry of being in the same house as my dad.

Sometimes I thought walking might be my salvation. When I didn’t think I could go on with my life anymore, I didn’t consider a violent death. I just imagined walking and never stopping. Eventually I’d find a cliff and walk right over the edge.

If it was just me, I’d end the pain of my existence. But thinking of the baby growing inside me always ended those thoughts. My baby didn’t deserve that.

I’d reached the end of a particularly bad day at school and was walking aimlessly. Tiny snowflakes flew around in the biting winter air, but I hardly felt the cold. I was bundled in a winter parka and lost in my thoughts.

Today I’d eaten lunch in a closed bathroom stall at school to avoid the stares. And instead I got to listen to Mandy Barton telling two other girls that she’d slept with Levi last night to comfort him over what his slutty girlfriend had done to him. They’d speculated about who the father of my child was, eventually deciding on Mr. Schultz, a teacher and coach at my school whom I’d never even spoken to.

I was on the outskirts of our small city, walking past a rusted, abandoned factory, when a car slowed to a stop nearby. I turned to see a marked police car. A familiar sick taste rose in my throat. My dad was giving me a puzzled glance from a rolled down window, his elbow resting on the door.

“Ivy, what are you doing out here? It’s the dead of winter and you’re miles from home.”

“What are
you
doing here? Are you following me?” My icy tone was challenging. What was there to be afraid of now? He’d stolen the vulnerable, trusting part of me. He’d shown me that there was no one in my life I could count on.

“I was on patrol and I saw you,” he said, glaring at me. “Get in the car and I’ll drive you home. We need to talk.”

“
Talk?
Is that code?” I spat out bitterly.

His face was a mix of contrition and anger. “Ivy. Let’s not do this. Get in the car.”

“No.”

“What’s this I hear about you being pregnant? Is it true?”

A powerful wave of nausea swept through me. He didn’t deserve to know, and he certainly didn’t deserve to ask me about it.

“Leave me alone.”

“I can help, Ivy. We’ll get it taken care of. Come on.”

I turned to face the car. “Go away. I don’t want your help. I don’t want to be around you.”

His face fell. The father who had always looked strong and handsome to me now looked tired and pathetic. He nodded and turned the car around, peeling away from the gravel lot of the old factory.

Darkness came early in the winter months. The sun was setting and my hands were getting numb from the cold, so I headed back toward town. I didn’t have a lot of money, but I had several hundred dollars in my savings account. I’d earned that money babysitting last summer, and I decided to use a little of it on a room at a small motel.

The floral bedspread in the room was old and scratchy. I didn’t have a change of clothes or a toothbrush. But it was warm and safe. Too worn out to worry anymore, I once again sought comfort in the warmth of the covers.

AT SCHOOL THE NEXT
morning, I was packing my things up slowly after my Advanced Chem class. It was the last period before lunch, and I was in no hurry to get there. Actually, I was considering lunch in the bathroom again. That half hour of not being stared at like a freak would give me the mental energy to finish this day.

“Ivy?”

My teacher Miss Byerly approached and leaned on the empty desk next to me. I made eye contact to acknowledge her.

“I don’t want to intrude, but . . . I’m concerned about you,” she said.

“I’m okay.”

The classroom had emptied, and Miss Byerly and I looked at each other in silence for a few seconds.

“You’re not okay,” she said softly. “And I just can’t stand to see you like this anymore. I want you to know you’re not alone. I see you sitting in class every day and walking through the halls, and you look like a ghost of the girl I used to see.”

I’d never had a personal conversation with Miss Byerly, but the sincerity in her voice reached something inside me. I looked down at the desk I sat in, tears blurring the scratched wood surface.

“You can talk to me, Ivy,” she said, bending down near the ground and putting a hand on my back. “But you don’t have to. If there’s something you need—anything at all—just say so. If you want to hang out in here over lunch, or if you need a ride somewhere—”

“I’m pregnant.” My voice shook as I spoke the words for the first time. “You know that, right?”

“I’ve heard that, yes,” she said, looking me straight in the eye.

I took in a deep breath and let it out; relieved I’d finally spoken the truth to someone. Everyone knew, but there was something liberating about owning it.

“Do you have anyone there for you?” Miss Byerly asked, her hand now rubbing a slow circle on my back. “I know you just lost your mom over the summer.”

I shrugged silently.

“And your dad? Is he upset with you?”

My throat tightened uncomfortably. I couldn’t speak, so I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to force away the image of him.

“When I say I’m here, I mean it, Ivy. If you need someone to take you to the doctor, or a place to stay—”

“I do need a place to stay.” The words tumbled out in a hopeful rush.

Miss Byerly’s soft hazel eyes hardened a little. “What’s going on with your dad, Ivy? Is there something I should know?”

I shook my head, my heart pounding wildly. “Never mind.” I wiped my cheeks and gathered my things, standing up.

“No.” She stood too. “I don’t want . . . I mean, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay. And I’d love to have you stay with me.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean that. You don’t have to . . .” I took another deep breath. “I just meant if maybe you could help me find a room somewhere. Isn’t there a shelter at the Methodist church?”

“Ivy, you’re staying with me, and not another word about it. Are you eighteen?”

I nodded.

“Then come down to my room when school lets out,” Miss Byerly said. “We’ll go to your house and pick up a few things.”

My shoulders sagged with relief. I wouldn’t have to worry when I closed my eyes in bed at night that I’d wake up to the sound of my dad trying to get in my bedroom door. I’d take a few things that were important to me—the butterfly necklace my mom gave me for my sixteenth birthday, photos of me and her, my clothes. I didn’t want most of the stuff from my bedroom. That place was ruined for me. I wanted to escape it and never go back.