Page 63 of The Summer of ’98

I handed her the stick with trembling hands. I felt shell-shocked. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I couldn’t understand how, after just one night together, we had conceived a child. The longer I stood and let the thoughts weigh me down, the more panicked I became. There was a plan in place for this situation. I knew what I wanted to do. I knew what steps I would take. I had always been efficient. But that didn’t stop me from reeling into a downward spiral.

“What now?” Cass questioned, handing the test back. I slipped it into my pocket and shook my head.

Should I tell Leroy? Should I go home and tell Momma? Should I just phone her and have an abortion here?

I felt so overwhelmed that all I could do was sink down into a crouch as I attempted to regulate my breathing. It was all too much, and I didn’t know what to do first or how to even make sense and order out of the loud and hostile voices that were screaming at me to start making decisions.

“I am fucked,” I said, staring at the concrete floor. “Fucked.”

“Did you just swear?”

“Cass,” I stood up and gripped her shoulders as she stared at me with alarm. “Tell me what to do. I don’t know what to do.”

“You should tell Leroy, for starters,” she said as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder and led me out of the locker rooms. “I think that he’ll be the best help. He’s levelheaded, you know?”

When we got outside, I wasn’t surprised to see the rain had started to fall. It seemed fitting, to be honest. Gloomy weather for the gloomy mood. The team was already packing up the equipment and heading toward us. Cass and I stood under the shelter of the steps and waited. I was barely aware of the guys that passed us, my thoughts wrapped up in my doom, but I tried hard to detach and remain calm.

“Els?”

I looked up at the sound of Leroy and met his concerned expression. His shirt was clinging to his frame, rain beads cascading down his face. He must have sensed that something was wrong because he handed the cones he was cradling to one of his teammates as he passed.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ll leave you to talk,” Cass said, touching a supportive hand to my shoulder before she ran down the stairs and sprinted over to the gate.

“Leroy—”

“What’s going on?” Leroy closed the distance between us and put his wet hands on my cheeks, forcing me to meet his worried stare. “Els, you’re scaring me. What is it?”

“I’m pregnant,” I sobbed. Leroy’s expression fell, his eyes cast down at my stomach as though he’d be able to confirm it for himself.

He stammered for a moment, his mouth opening but no words coming out as he shook his head. “Ellie, I don—”

“I’m terminating the pregnancy,” I interrupted him, raising my voice a little to compete with the rain that had started to pelt down on the iron awning above us. I hoped no one was still hanging around within earshot.

His brows pulled together in question and I nodded, wishing I had been strong enough to do this without telling him. I could have taken care of it without putting a single burden on his shoulders.

“Why?” He dropped his hands from my face and stepped back.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from him, but it hadn’t been that. “Because . . . Leroy, I’m only eighteen. I don’t have a lot of money. I have things that I need to accomplish before I have children. I can’t even cook for goodness’s sake. It’s just—”

“That’s it?” he snapped. “You can’t cook so you’re just going to get rid of our child?”

“That was what you got from that?” I shouted. He exhaled a frustrated breath and turned around, heading down the steps and into the thick rain. Of course, I was left to wonder what the heck had just happened. I watched him, flabbergasted for a moment as he stormed across the grass toward the exit gate.

When I was finally able to get a grip, I snapped into it and ran after him. The rain was heavy, but it was almost warm, and I tried to keep my eyes open as I ran across the sopping grass. I caught up to him as he reached the gate and put my full force into shoving his back. I didn’t realize how mad I was until I put hands on him, and he turned around with broad shoulders and a pained expression.

“I could use some support right now,” I shouted, giving his chest another shove. “You’re just gonna make me feel like shit and then leave me? What is wrong with you?”

“Have you even thought about what I want?” He stepped forward. His eyes were narrowed because of the rain and it made him appear even more intimidating. “Did you consider how I would feel, for even a second?”

“Of course, I did! You’re going to be playing college football. You’ll be going pro. You’ll be doing what you’ve always wanted to, and I’m not going to stand in the way of that. I won’t do that!”

“That’s not your decision to make!” He stepped closer again. “Maybe I want this baby. Maybe I want that, with you. There’s no one else in this world that I would want to have a child with. Maybe I want you to have this child, Ellie.”

He looked distraught and it killed me. I couldn’t handle hearing the pain in his voice, so I lifted a hand and caressed his wet cheek, my heart pounding as he leaned into it. “That’s not your decision to make,” I softly repeated his own words. “I’m not ready.”

The rain rolled over his defeated expression, the storm in his gaze so much heavier than the one in the sky. He ran a hand through his soaked hair to push it back from his face. “So, what then? What now?”

---