Page 48 of You Weren't Meant to Be Human
Shut up,shut up.Jess lurches over the tub, yanks on the faucet to get the stomach acid and half-digested remains of what’s probably breakfast and burning liquor off her hands. Crane grinds his teeth. Of course he fuckingtried.He tried to get an abortion, and it was snatched away the moment Stagger tracked him to Aspen and Birdie’s. He begged the hive to change their mind, and when they refused, he tried to threaten them into it. Tammy won’t help and Levi won’t look the other way and now he’s here. Jess has no idea what she’s on about. She needs to shut up.
Jess thuds to the narrow strip of floor. Smearing water across the tiles. Stagger leans over her to turn off the tub.
“I’m not you, though,” she says.
Her fingers slip over and over in an attempt to unbutton her jeans.
“I was going to die in that room.” Her movements are sluggish, every syllable hard-won. “Sean was going to keep me there until I rotted, but then the flies came and said I’d never have to feel like that again. So I’m not. I’m not some—some dog that does whatever it’s told.” Saliva bubbles up when she speaks. “I’m not gonna lie here and spread my legs and take it like you.”
In all the venom and spittle, there’s something that’s almost a sob. A piece of broken, painful glass in her throat.
“It’s just. You’re the only person I could think of.”
She gets the button only to struggle with the zipper.
“I’m pregnant,” she says, “and it’s Levi’s and I thought I could fix it, but I messed up.”
That moment in the manager’s office: Levi ducking his head to Jess’s ear, Jess pulling away and shaking her headno.Every second she looked too much like Crane in the mirror, messy dark hair and thin pink lips and the same sharp collarbones. Every time he glared across the car or the room or the apartment and hated her for it, every time he laughed along with jokes at her expense, every time he wished the hive had done this to her instead of him.
All of that, the whole time, and this happened right under his nose. It feels like a blood vessel in his brain is about to burst.
He wouldn’t have wanted it to happen if he knew it actuallywould.
And yeah—some childish part of him wishes with all its might for him to be surprised by this. To be surprised that Levi would do this. But he isn’t, because of course Levi would. Obviously.
Jess gets the zipper and yanks her pants down.
There’s blood everywhere.
Across her thighs, smearing her cheap blue underwear. Not quite soaking all the way through the seat of her jeans, but about to. A pile of menstrual pads and tissues and a washcloth crammed inside her underwear to stymie the flow that hasn’t worked nearly as well as it should’ve, not with the extent of the hemorrhage.
Jess pulls out a pad and drops it into the trash can. It’s all soaked, a dripping red bolus. Her pubic hair is matted.
She must have found Tammy’s DIY abortion kit, the one the hive forbid them from using, and grabbed the curette like it was anantidote. Or googled what should theoretically go into a kit and decided any long, sharp object would do. She did what Crane couldn’t bring himself to do, but she did it wrong. She hit something bad.
“He didn’t force me,” Jess snivels, as if this isn’t the most blood Crane has seen come out of a living person ever, as if he’d be upset with her. She tries to shimmy out of her pants but she’s too weak, resorts to digging between her legs and unravelling deteriorating wads of paper towels from inside her. “Or. I don’t, I don’t know. I don’t think he did. He makes you feel crazy.”
Crane touches her legs, permission to get her pants for her. She lets him and he drags them down to her knees. Underwear too. She reeks of copper, and it brings back a high school memory like a slap: waking up to find he’d started his period, groggily coming to in a pool of metallic mess. It’s an unmistakable smell. Even if he never has another menstrual cycle again, it’s going to follow him for the rest of his life.
Crane clicks his tongue to get Stagger’s attention, signsplastic, and Stagger steps out to fetch it.
Jess reaches in and pulls out the washcloth. It looks like what Levi tried to use to clean up his back the night he got shot. Crane takes it from her and puts it into the trash can too.
“Sorry,” Jess says, spluttering. “I’m sorry.”
What is she apologizing for? Losing her shit in the living room, swearing at him, ruining the floor? Letting Levi do this to her?
Stagger comes back with the plastic sheet. Shifting Jess’s weight to get it under her makes her sob, but Stagger holds her hand and makes shushing noises and Crane squeezes her knee and she takes deep breaths.
Crane is bad at estimating, but if she hasn’t already lost enough blood to classify this as a medical emergency, it’s going to turn intoan emergency real soon. If she just nicked something, then pressure would’ve worked. Or maybe it just hasn’t had time to clot. He grabs the towel from the sink and gives it to her and she crams it in, his hand on her wrist to tell her to keep it there, press it in, it hurts but she has to. He doesn’t know enough about how this works. Maybe it’s too deep to get pressure on it at all. You can’t exactly put weight on a wound on the other side of the cervix.
They can’t tell Tammy. Tammy’s pretty much proved she’s more loyal to the hive than her people, and who knows what she’ll tell the worms if they ask. Can’t call 911, either—even if they pick up, which they might not, Crane has heard the townsfolk talk. It’ll take the ambulance an hour to get here on a good day.
“It feels bad,” she says. “Is it bad?”
Crane doesn’t know how to respond to that. The only honest answer is nodding. He nods.
In response, Jess tries to smile. He’s glad that his honesty is appreciated—it usually isn’t. The way he sees it, it’s good to be told the truth. He’s spent so much time freaking out over things people considered minuscule that it’d be a blessing to be told yes, it’s just as bad as you think it is. You’re not overreacting.
