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Chapter Thirty

I wish I had been sleeping, but I was awake. I was awake in a nightmare. After just a few quick tests and one ultrasound, the doctor said the one word that I never, ever (well, at least for another ten years) thought I would hear.

"Pregnant."

I was lying on the table still feeling weak and staring at the monitor. I couldn't see anything.

"But the blood..." I moaned. I was sure that had to have been a miscarriage. Maybe the doctor meant to say I had been pregnant.

Either way I was so dead. But at least a miscarriage could be chalked up to an accident.

An accident which would probably prevent me from seeing Mason ever again...or until we were eighteen.

Mom looked at the doctor. She had let out a gasp at the word and her grip on my arm tightened.

"Do twins run in the family?" the doctor continued.

"Yes," mom whispered.

"I think what we had here is a case of a vanishing twin. The body reabsorbed it and produced signs symptomatic of a miscarriage. But I still detect a fetal heartbeat. I'd say Shelby's maybe five and a half weeks along."

I closed my eyes tightly. No, this wasn't happening.

"She's sixteen," mom explained.

I felt the doctor checking my IV and cleaning up from the ultrasound.

"I'm going to let you two talk," he said after another moment. I heard the door close.

"Shelby," mom said.

I began to cry again. I didn't know what else to do. All I could think about was the shower. Mason hadn't been trying to apologize for getting caught. He had been trying to apologize for not pulling out.

I felt like one of those dumb girls on those PSA's for safe sex going 'It was only one time' or 'It couldn't happen to me.'

"I'm sorry," I gasped through my tears. Mom kissed my hand.

"It's going to be okay Shel."

This was the same mom who had shit a brick at me even talking to Mason. How was it going to be okay? I was sixteen. We lived hundreds of miles away from each other.

And did I mention I was sixteen?

Pregnant. That was such a foreign word. That was a word I should have heard coming from mom. I didn't feel pregnant. But then again I didn't know what pregnant was supposed to feel like.

"I just wish you would have told me," mom said almost to herself. "If you had told me right away we could have gotten you some Plan B."

I looked over at her.

"I was a little busy trying to stop dad from plungering Mason to death," I said a little bitterly. "It all...happened so fast."

Mom looked like she was trying not to cry.

"We were just trying to keep you from making a mistake. Oh God, Shel...we screwed up."

Those were words that I hadn't expected to hear. My mind was still reeling.

Pregnant.

"What do I do?" I asked. I was surprised to hear how small my voice sounded. Mom took a deep breath.

"We need to see what else the doctor says. Once we get you home we're going to need to call Mason. And then we can take it from there."

Take it from there. I didn't even know where there was. My forehead was clammy just from the thought that I was currently an incubator for another life.

And I had just lost a baby.

I was only sixteen. This wasn't fair.

A large tear rolled down my cheek. Life as I knew it was over.

------------------------

After being monitored for another hour and a half the doctor finally released me on condition of moderated bedrest for the remainder of the week. I wore some scrubs home. I pressed my face against the window, not caring if I smudged the glass.

"Dad's called ten times," mom muttered, checking her cell phone. "We're going to get you into bed before we tell him."

My stomach flipped uncomfortably.

The ride didn't seem long enough. Before I knew it we were in front of the house and dad was waiting at the door. Mom went into the living room and pulled the couch out into a bed. The house was quiet. It was ten thirty. Everyone else must have been sent to bed.

"I've got to clean your room," mom explained softly as I sank down onto the pullout.

"What's going on?" dad asked. "Did you get my messages?"

Mom threw a blanket over me and looked up.

"I got your messages."

Dad looked back down at me. I couldn't meet his eyes.

"What's going on?" His voice was tense.

Mom took a seat on the ottoman she had pushed out of the way. She almost looked like she needed to put her head between her knees before she passed out.

"Shel's pregnant."

"WHAT?!"

"She had a partial miscarriage."

"So she's not--"

"It was twins."

I felt like I was far removed from the conversation. They were talking about someone else. Not me.

Not now.

"Jesus Christ."

The silence that filled the room was oppressive. Slowly I looked up at dad. He was staring at me like he was being tortured.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I didn't know how to answer that. Was I okay? I really didn't know. Even still, I gave a little nod.

"We need to call...and tell them," mom said.

"Can I call Mason?" I asked quietly. I braced myself for a loud 'No.'

"Yes. But then you need to let us talk to Kevin," mom said.

I looked over at her. She quickly wiped a tear from her eye.

Five minutes later I had dialed Mason's cell and I was listening to the phone ring. I half hoped that he wouldn't answer. Maybe they weren't home. Maybe--

"Hello?"

"Mas," I said.

I began to cry.

"What's wrong? It's past eleven."

I didn't know if the words would come. It was a terrifying statement.

"Shel? You're freaking me out."

Mom and dad had given me a little privacy, but I knew they were still within hearing range. I brushed the tears from my cheek. They just kept falling.

"I'm pregnant," I sobbed. There was a long pause.

"Are you sure?" Mason finally asked. I could hear the panic in his voice.

"I had like a miscarriage or something," I said. It was like I was telling some type of made up story. "I had twins but now I have...one."

One too many.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm...scared."

"Oh shit, Shel. I..." he trailed off. I heard the sound of his breathing. "Do your parents know?"

"Mom had to take me to the ER. I just got back."

"Oh my god. I--we---the shower."

"I know."

"I tried to tell you."

I began to cry harder.

"I know."

When Mason spoke again it sounded like he was crying.

"I wish I was there."

I tasted the salt from my tears.

"I wish you were too."

"I'm sorry."

I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but it was. But it was my fault too. It was our fault.

"Mas, mom and dad want to talk to your dad."

Mason groaned.

"Fuck, I'm so dead." He sighed. "O-okay."

I looked up. As if on cue, mom and dad were hovering above the couch. I held up the phone.

I didn't hear the full extent of the conversation but there was a couple straight minutes of really loud yelling that I could only assume was Kevin tearing into Mason. Dad held the phone away from his ear and closed his eyes. Once the yelling faded away there was just a lot of one sided conversation.

"Shelby's had a rough night. We're not talking about anything tonight," dad said.

There were a few more 'uh-huhs' and 'yeahs' and then the call was over. Dad looked at me. There weren't any words. He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

"Honey, let me know if you need anything," mom said. She kissed my cheek.

She clicked off the light and they headed upstairs talking quietly. There was no doubt they were talking about me.

I curled up on my side and stared into the blackness. I couldn't sleep. My hand trailed down and settled on my stomach.

A baby.

A lump rose into my throat. I knew what conversation was coming. Everyone would want to know what I was going to do.

There were options of course. I could have an abortion. I thought about the blood stained sheets and my jeans. The thought of doing something like that on purpose made me sick to my stomach.

Then there was adoption. I thought about that for a moment. We could give the baby to a couple who couldn't have children of their own.

But then I would have to live with the knowledge that I had a child out there somewhere.

And then there was the third option. I could keep the baby.

But I was only sixteen.

And Mason was so far away.

And even though I had spent the summer running at full speed towards adulthood, I knew deep, deep down that I was just a kid.

I wasn't doing a good job of taking care of myself.

How could I take care of a baby?