She sat on the bathroom floor, holding the test in her shaking hand. Her eyes flicked across the pregnancy test, hoping the results would somehow change. Numbers and questions kept flitting around in her mind.
Was it a 50 percent chance a condom could break? 20 percent? Was it a 90 chance a pregnancy test was right? Or 100 percent? Was she really pregnant? After just one time with him?
The test in her hand shouted very forcefully, yes, you are.
She dropped the test and it quieted, but her mind still ran around, shouting its disbelief, shouting that she couldn't be pregnant.
She hadn't spoken to him since that night, a couple weeks ago. Her period had only been late a week. And here was the reason why, contained in a stupid test.
What now? She was too young, didn't have enough income, had no partner to speak of. She had nothing but her feelings for him. Should she tell him she was pregnant with his child? What would he say?
So many questions. Not enough answers. Not nearly enough.
Nothing to blame it on now, her mind whispered nastily. There's no alcohol, no caffeine, no sleep deprivation. It's all you and your foolish feelings for that guy.
She pulled her knees to her chest, curling up. Resting her left cheek on her knee, she wondered what direction to go next. What could be done?
Her heart froze.
What about an abortion? Could she do that?
An overwhelmingly hopeless feeling clutched at her. Unbidden, tears formed in her eyes. Her breath hitched as she tried to keep control of herself. Tremors shook her frame as she cried. She was so confused. She had her life to live but to kill his child, their child? But she could hardly afford to keep herself afloat. Supporting a child without help would ruin her.
She hugged herself tighter, trying to keep herself from falling apart completely. Her knee sported a brand new mark where she had bit it to keep from making any audible sound.
A loud sound made her jump. Her cell phone, on the bathroom counter top, rang, sounding painfully shrill to her. Still choking back sobs, she reached over to grab it. Forgetting her sore knee, she fell against the cabinets, jarring her shoulder. Pulling the phone down to eye level, she checked Caller ID.
No. Not now. She couldn't do this now. She'd be too tempted to tell him, to confess to him. What would she do if he took it badly? No… it was better not to answer until she got a hold of herself.
Every ring of the phone sent another shockwave of pain through her heart. When it stopped, it slipped from her limp fingers and clattered to the floor. She leaned against the cabinets, waiting for her pain level to drop. Her heart beat raucously in her ears. Her shoulder throbbed where it had hit the cabinets. Her left knee throbbed at the slightest pressure.
She lost track of how much time passed before the phone rang again. Her heart jumped to her throat again. It was him. She knew it. She didn't need to glance down at the phone to know. Still, her hand reached out for the device. Reading his name there, predictably, was like jumping into a vat of needles.
In the silence after the phone gave up, she weighed her options. There weren't many.
More ideas, more thoughts… and she came to a decision. This needed to be done.
Reaching for her phone she dialed a number written in her heart…
"We need to talk."
Yes, the ending is supposed to be vague. The reader doesn't know what she decided on the abortion issue and doesn't know exactly who she called. Aren't vague endings fun?