One from the vaults

In keeping with my promise to myself to keep up with posting on this blog, I supply you with something I found while searching through the folders on my computer. It still doesn't have a title. Enjoy!

***

I bring Lorna to the place where they do the abortions. After it's all over, the doctor lets me go into the back to get her. They don't tell me that she wants her baby back. She's laying on the bed crying, begging for them to put it back.

I crawl onto the bed with her even though they tell me not to. I grab her and pull her into my arms just like my mother used to me when I was a little girl and I was upset. "They can't," I tell her, but she doesn't understand.

"Please, Sara, you have to tell them. They won't listen. I want Molly back," she sobs, clinging to me.

"Molly's not coming back," I whisper, and this, she seems to understand.

Her sobbing intensifies until she runs out of the gusto to keep going and the tears run out. Everything is red. Everything is puffy. I help her up from the bed and slip her coat over her shoulders. The nurse smiles warmly, all-knowing, a smile she's given to hundreds of sluts before us.

"It's okay, honey," she whispers, patting Lorna on the shoulder. Lorna nods and begins crying again, silently this time.

"I made a horrible mistake," she tells the nurse, leaning into her. The nurse holds her up. She turns to me, "He would have made a great dad, you know. Blane Owen is a god."

"Honey," I say, unsure if I should, "his name is Blitz."

She's so surprised that she stops crying again. I don't know what else to say to her, so I just lead her out to the car and drive her home. She sits in the passenger seat whispering "Blitz" over and over again to herself. I don't say anything. She gets out of the car in front of her parents house and starts to walk away without closing the door. I put the car in park and get out to close the door. She's just standing at the end of her driveway.

"Are you sure it's Blitz?" she asks me, blood shot eyes bearing into my fragile skin.

"Yes," I nod, "He is my boyfriend after all."

She nods and disappears up the driveway. I stand there waiting for her to come back, but she doesn't. I'm supposed to meet Blitz for lunch, but I might have changed my mind about him. I don't think I can forgive him for this. I take a deep breath and close the passenger door.

I show up anyway.

He's looking cool in his Wayfarers and designer jeans. He's gotten a haircut since I last saw him; only a half inch of sandy hair remains on his fuzzy head. His tan is fading with the end of summer and he needs to whiten his teeth from the coffee stains. He reminds me that school is starting soon and Lorna won't be my roommate anymore. She won't even be there.

I sit down across from him, folding and unfolding my menu again and again to calm my nerves. He's chain smoking and blowing all the smoke into my face.

"She didn't want to do it," I say.

"Who didn't?"

"Lorna. What did you say to make her do it?"

He shrugs, "The truth."

"Which is?"

"That I fucked her because I'm in love with you. I had to get your attention somehow."

"She thought your name was Blane."

He shrugs again, "It was just one night, Sara. You don't need to get worked up over it. I took care of it."

"By having me drive her?"

"You wanted to."

"I wanted to only because you wouldn't."

"I'm not her fucking boyfriend, why would I drive her?"

I shrug and say, "It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do."

"No," he replies, "The gentlemanly thing would have been not to stick my dick in her in the first place."

"Yes," I agree.

The waiter comes over and takes our order. He's cute, a little on the thin side (thinner than Blitz which is concerning), but he has piercing blue eyes which I love and a deep swimmer's tan. I smile at him and Blitz notices.

"If I could take it back, I would," he says.

“I want to get married after graduation,” I find myself saying even though I had never thought about it before. A part of me likes the way the words sounds coming out from my mouth, but there's another part of me, a large part, that reminds me that it's Blitz I'm talking to.

“And?”

“I could be in love with you. But I’m not sure I would know it if I were.”

“Would you let me fuck you any time I wanted?”

“Yeah," I say and he smiles, ready to propose so I add, quickly, "but I wouldn’t let you fuck anyone else. No more of my roommates. No more of my friends. No one besides me.”

He hesitates, lights up another cigarette and considers it before breaking out into a smile, "Alright. Let's do it."

I hear his words, but I also hear the truth behind them. If I think I'm going to marry him, I'm just as fucked as Molly.