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Fiction » Young Adult » Everything You're Not Supposed to Do font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: DianaChristine
Fiction Rated: M - English - Drama/Angst - Reviews: 11 - Published: 12-08-05 - Updated: 12-08-05 - Complete - id:2065448

Darcy told Allison that she was pregnant on a Monday morning, so of course by Tuesday everyone within the county knew her secret. It was common knowledge at our school that if you want something to spread, you go to Allison. I guess that should have been our first clue.

This was the winter I suddenly decided to become an alcoholic and a drug addict. I had started going to Darcy’s a few days before her big announcement because I knew she was always looking to sell stuff. I hadn’t really talked to Darcy before then- we didn’t exactly run in the same groups at school- but she seemed more than happy to befriend me.

It was hard to believe that Darcy could have gotten pregnant in the first place. She was one of those girls whose hair always looked greasy and who wore baggy black clothes to hide her body. At my school mostly only the popular kids had sex, and even then it was just to stay in the popular group. The only reason why I was getting any was because my neighbor Teddy and I had been dating since we were eight-years-old.

Anyway, I knew where Darcy lived because Teddy and I had watched her move in across the street when we were twelve. It’s been four years and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her leave the house except to go to school.

That Tuesday night I went to her house sipping on my third cup of coffee of the day. The coffee taste strangely resembled the Styrofoam cup it came in, but it was sobering me up.

“So, I heard the big news,” I told her. “Pretty crazy, huh? What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” she said, letting me into the house. “You’re lucky my parents aren’t home. They were just about to kill me last night.”

“Your parents are never home,” I pointed out. I pulled some money out of my pocket. “Let’s smoke up.”

“You go ahead. You know I can’t do that shit no more now that I’m preggers. I do have the munchies, though. Eating for two, I guess. You hungry?”

“No,” I lied. I probably hadn’t eaten for days.

But pretty soon I was all novocained up and forgetting.

xxx

Teddy was starting to get pissed at me.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked. He was never one to beat around the bush. “You never used to drink before and suddenly it’s like an obsession.”

“Shhh, Teddy,” I pleaded, swallowing some Tylenol. “I have a headache.”

“I wonder why. You must have a permanent hangover.”

“No, the weed takes care of that.” I’m not sure why I said it. Only made things worse. Sometimes I just can’t control the shit that comes out of my mouth.

“Chloe…” he said, his voice suddenly growing soft. “I’m worried about you. It’s like I can’t even look into your eyes anymore, you’re too far away.”

“It’s just a phase,” I told him. “It’ll be over soon.” God, I hoped it would be over soon. I vowed to act more sober around him. It wasn’t too hard to hide everything else. And I felt like I was starting to become immune to the drugs anyway.

xxx

At school they lumped me in with the smart kids. It’s true that I got really good grades, enough to make my parents proud. They weren’t able to see how different I had gotten lately like Teddy did. I guess the difference was Teddy loved me.

During dinner a few nights later I was pushing the food around on my plate pretending to eat as my parents gossiped viciously about how “the girl across the street” was pregnant. “Her poor parents,” Mom said. “How humiliating.”

Dad said, “Well, not everyone has a Harvard-bound daughter like we do,” and he winked at me. I felt like puking. I guess the fact that I had liquor running through my veins didn’t help.

After dinner I went over to Darcy’s and lay on her bed and closed my eyes while she talked about how many girls at school were talking to her now about the pregnancy. And how she was getting weird looks from guys who had never even looked at her before.

That’s when I finally puked… all over Darcy’s bed. I felt really bad, but she was weirdly cool about it. “I’ve probably puked in this room three times since the morning sickness started,” she assured me. “Besides, we’re friends now, right?”

I still wasn’t sure if I was just using her or not. “Yeah,” I said. “Friends.” The vomit taste was fresh in my mouth. I had gotten amazingly good at lying lately. I let Darcy clean up the mess as I passed out.

xxx

The big fat D on my biology test looked shaky and surreal. I found myself just staring at it for a long time that Saturday night trying to make sense of it. I knew Teddy was waiting for me next door because his parents were out of town and I had already told my parents that I was spending the night at Courtney’s. But this big fat D wasn’t letting me out of its grasp. How come Ds are never small and skinny?

I took four Advil to try to help ease the pain before finally bringing myself to my feet and going over to Teddy’s. I don’t know why I bothered; over-the-counter meds haven’t been doing much for me lately.

I knew something was wrong as soon as Teddy opened the door. He had this look on his face that he makes when his favorite baseball team loses the World Series or something. “Hey,” he said, “how are you?”

“What’s wrong?” I asked instead of answering his question.

“Um, maybe we should sit down.”

“No, just tell me what’s fucking wrong already.” No use prolonging the inevitable, right?

“I dunno, Chloe. I’m upset with you right now. You’re different…and I think maybe we should take a break.”

Take a break? Take a fucking break? Break me in fucking two, why don’t you?

“Okay,” he said, breathing, “Either tell me what’s wrong right now or we’re breaking up.”

I opened my mouth but my words got caught somewhere in my throat.

“Forget it,” he said. “Come back when you figure yourself out.”

I found myself outside crying only on the inside and thinking, Can’t you see I’m doing this half for you?

xxx

I went over to Darcy’s house and I could tell she wasn’t expecting me. She was laughing a lot more than usual.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at Teddy’s tonight?” she asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “Do you still have that bottle of vodka?”

Darcy giggled too much in return. Her eyes had that faraway look in them that I had grown accustomed to. “Shit Darcy, what are you on? I thought you said you weren’t gonna do anything anymore now that you’re pregnant.”

Darcy fell onto her bed in a fit of laughter. Her face was red and tear-streaked. “Oh, silly, I’m not really pregnant. I made that all up.”

“What?” I uttered. “What?”

“I just said it… I don’t know why… to get attention I guess. Better than being fucking invisible, right?”

“And what were you gonna do when nine months came along and people realized you were a fucking liar?”

“Woah,” Darcy said. “Chill. I was just going to say that it was a miscarriage. Maybe get some more sympathy at the same time. No big deal.”

My voice turned hard and stone-like. “You fucking pathetic bitch.”

Darcy’s laughter stopped. She seemed surprised. “What’s your problem?”

“Your sick, that’s my problem. It’s like you have some messed up version of Munchausen’s Syndrome and you don’t even have a kid yet! How DARE you joke about being pregnant? You have no idea what it’s like!”
“And you do?” Darcy shut back. It took just a moment’s silence between us was all it took before she started screaming at me. “You do! I knew it! And you’re blaming ME of Munchausen’s Syndrome? You’re killing your child. So that’s why Miss Goody Two Shoes turned alkie.”

“At least I’m not doing it for attention,” I hissed. “I can’t believe I let someone like you think I was your friend.”

“Hey, I was here for you when you needed me even though you completely ignored me the first four years I lived here.”

“That’s only because you were desperate for friends you psycho bitch.”

And so ended the short lived friendship of Darcy and Chloe. Not to mention the relationship of Teddy and Chloe. And the existence of Chloe, Miss Goody Two Shoes.

xxx

I guess at the time I thought that being Harvard-bound was the only thing I had going for me, and it was easier to hide the drugs from my parents than a baby. And now, if this baby doesn’t die, it’ll be born with seven heads. But maybe it’s a fighter. And right now I really can’t tell whether I’m being incredibly strong or extremely weak.

Teddy had said to call him once I figured myself out. So far all I’ve realized is that in trying to kill my baby, I’ve been slowly killing myself as well. I guess the only thing left to do is pray for a miscarriage. Dear God, do you even hear my prayers anymore?



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