Two Months Later
I look down at the toilet paper and see red spotting, my shoulders instantly relaxing as I let out a breath.
Thank God. I laugh to myself and quickly finish up, three days of worry finally ending.
I knew I shouldâve gotten an implant. Iâve been taking my birth control, but itâs not as effective as other methods, and being a teen mom is not where I want to be right now. The press and Chapel Peak would have a heyday if I came off this mountain pregnant.
Iâm not sure how Kaleb would take it, either.
Itâs late April, the property is still covered in snow, but the days are warmer and there are patches of grass. Jake is working on the roads now.
The last two months since we brought Kaleb home have beenâ¦like a dream. After Noah got on my case that day in February, I put it all out of my mind and decided to enjoy what time we had left here. The seclusion, the peace, and the long nights. Iâve never slept better or been this happy, my nightmaresâor night terrorsâhaving stopped long ago. Kaleb and I read, we all watch movies and play cards, and I taught Noah how to waltz in the living room on St. Patrickâs Day. Iâve climbed trees, learned how to make a belt, and taught myself how to update Van der Berg Extremeâs website.
Iâve even gotten pretty good on the dirt bikes.
We should be able to rejoin the world soon, though, and Iâve never wanted time to pass so slowly. Decisions will need to be made, and I havenât wanted this day to come.
I head out of the bathroom and up to our room on the third floor, hugging myself in my long-sleeved T-shirt as chills spread down my legs, bare in my sleep shorts.
Mirai is coming tonight, and Iâve been working on making sure the house looks as clean and nice as possible, so she doesnât have a reason to pick a fight with Jake. If sheâs able to make it up here, that is. If he canât get the roads cleared, sheâll be holed up in a motel in town and have to wait it out.
At least Iâm not pregnant, though. And if I were, at least I wouldnât be showing yet. Kaleb and I are on each other every day, sometimes more than once, and Iâve been lucky my birth control hasnât failed. My period being three days late gave me a good scare.
I stop in front of the long mirror I had moved up from my room and turn sideways, running my hand over my stomach. The fitted, white T-shirt is flat and smooth over my tummy, but for a few scary days, I thought part of Kaleb might be in there. Part of Kaleb and me.
I lift up my shirt, envision my belly growing with his kid and trying to ignore the way my body warms at the thought, because I shouldnât want that. Itâs so cliché. Baby makes three and happily-ever-after.
Iâd love to have his child, though. Someday. Iâd love to be his forever and see him as a father.
I close my eyes, shaking my head at myself, because I know the truth. I only want his kid, because Iâm not sure I have him. If I got pregnant, I wouldnât have to make any decisions, because my fate would be sealed, and Iâd stay. No need to stress.
Pounding and thuds suddenly hit the stairs, and Noah and Kaleb come rushing through the door, tumbling onto the floor and laughing. I freeze, my shirt still up and my hands still on my stomach.
Their laughter dies down, and they lift their heads, looking up at me and taking me in.
I quickly pull my shirt down.
Kaleb climbs to his feet, staring at me and not blinking, and Noah rises, standing there in limbo for a moment before he finally decides to leave.
Kalebâs eyes drop to my stomach.
âIâm not,â I tell him. âI was justâ¦playing around.â
He thins his eyes on me, and I still see uncertainty there.
âMy period was late,â I explain. âI got it this morning. I was justâ¦thinking aboutâ¦what it⦠would be⦠like. Iâmâ¦â I run a hand through my hair. âIâm stupid.â
I laugh nervously, caught. I was fantasizing, and now heâs probably worried Iâll sabotage my birth control.
But he steps over to me and places a hand on my stomach, staring at his fingers as they splay across my belly. A flutter hits me, and I almost feel dizzy.
We lock eyes, and before I know it, he takes my hand and leads me down the stairs.
âKaleb,â I protest. What is he doing?
He walks me into the bathroom and opens the medicine cabinet, taking my birth control out.
Turning, he looks down into my eyes, so many emotions crossing his face. He opens his mouth, and I hold my breath, because it looks like heâs going to speak.
His breath fans across my lips, and he holds me, kissing my forehead, nose, and mouth.
And then, he holds my eyes and drops the pills into the trash.
âKaleb, no.â I dive down and snatch them back out.
He tries to pry them from my hand, but I keep hold. I rest my forehead against his mouth, closing my eyes and almost smiling. He wants us to have a baby. He wouldnât be mad or feel trapped at all.
He wants me.
Thatâs all I wanted to know.
âI donât want to leave you ever, butâ¦â I look up at him. âWeâre too young. Weâre too⦠Too much shit weâve been through. Weâre not ready yet.â
He slowly tugs the pill more and more, and I struggle to keep hold of them.
âI love you,â I whisper. âWe have our whole lives.â
He kisses me, his mouth moving stronger and deeper as he takes hold of my face with one hand and tries to pry the pills away with another. His tongue swirls like a cyclone down to my toes, and I whimper, my muscles going weak. I lose the pills and the next second I hear them drop into the trash again.
He wraps his arms around me, and I donât realize heâs carrying me until he lays me on our bed upstairs.
He always gets his way. Damn him.
I make a mental note to go dig the pills out again before Jake burns the trash.
Kaleb and I stare at each other as he takes a bite of chicken and feeds me the other half of the piece. I sit in his lap at the table, trying to hide my smile, but he canât, because heâs grinning like we have a secret.
Which we do. Weâre not actually trying to get pregnant, are we? I havenât dug the pills out yet, but leaving him is the last thing I want to do. It seems nice, the idea of building a family with him. Heâs almost twenty-two. He seems ready for it all.
I let out a breath, eating a forkful of scrambled egg and loading up the utensil again, feeding him some. Breakfast is a hodgepodge of leftovers because we climbed back in bed this morning, and I didnât have time for anything else.
I guess weâre technically not making a baby yet. I just started my period, and I canât get pregnant for the next several days, anyway. I can still go back on my pill.
âWell, thatâs it,â Jake says, strolling into the kitchen and whipping off his gloves, tossing them and his keys onto the counter. âThe roads are open.â
A bike speeds off outside, and I guess thatâs Noah, not wasting any time to go see his friends.
I drop my eyes, though, my stomach sinking a little. Iâd rather have more winter. I look at Kaleb, seeing him watch me, and right now, Iâm half-tempted to drag him into the garage, pack up the snowmobiles, and run to the fishing cabin. The snow up there will last for another month. Another blissful month of quiet.
âWhereâs that woman sleeping tonight?â Jake asks.
He turns to face us with his coffee in his hand.
Oh, thatâs right. We canât escape to the cabin anyway. Now that the roads are clear, Mirai can stay here at the house tonight.
âMy room.â I climb off Kaleb and clear our empty plate. âThank you forâ¦welcoming her,â I tell Jake.
He looks down at me, his eyes hooded in aggravation. âIâd rather have a few more months of winter.â
And he leaves, disappearing into the shop.
Yeah.
I agree.
Scooping out a hefty serving of Swedish Fish, I dump them in the white paper bag and close the container.
I have Peach Rings, cinnamon bears, gourmet jellybeans, and Spencer is boxing up some chocolate-covered almond clusters for me now.
I glance out the window, seeing Kaleb across the street, loading some lumber into the truck bed. Heâs going to try to his hand at carpentry by making us a headboard, and Iâm going to paint it.
I wish he hadnât insisted on coming to town with me. After what happened at the bar on my birthday, itâs only a matter of time before the policeâor the Motocross guysâget a whiff of his presence in town.
Some giggles go off near me, and I look over the jar of Hot Tamales to see a couple of young women by the retro-candy collection glancing at me and whispering. They round the aisle, their eyes dropping down my clothes, and then they laugh to themselves before leaving again.
I look down at myself, puzzled. Iâm not dressed weird.
Although I am wearing Noahâs muddy old riding boots, and my jeans are a little dirty from chores this morning.
After Jake cleared the roads, we decided to get dressed, get our individual jobs done, and get to town. Best to rip off the Band-Aid quickly and get used to being in the world again. We met up with Noah for cheeseburgers, stocked up on gas in case another storm comes in, and hit the grocery store, loading up on all the fresh produce.
Kaleb went to the hardware store, and I detoured for candy.
I stare at my clothes. Iâm not so out of place. Maybe less manicured than I was in September, butâ¦
I look down at my nails, seeing the dirt underneath, and the little cuts on my hands from all the labor Iâve been up to over the winter.
Okay, Iâm not manicured at all anymore. I catch myself in the mirror on the back of a shelf, seeing the loose threads in my dark blue cable knit sweater that also has a black stain from lying too close to a fire. My hair desperately needs a trim, and Iâm tan from being outside, my freckles popping like never before.
I havenât worn make-up or straightened my hair in months. Mirai wonât recognize me.
I laugh and head to the register.
âMy mom told me to bring home a girl like you someday,â someone says.
I look over, setting my bag on the counter as a young guy approaches me. Spencer weighs my bag, and I study the stranger. He looks vaguely familiar. One of Noahâs friends?
âYouâre their cousin, right,â he asks, leaning on the glass candy case. âNoah and Kaleb Van der Bergâs?â
I nod, seeing Spencer hand me the candy again. âIâll put it on your tab,â he says.
I smile. My tab. Cool.
Turning my attention back to the guy, I hold out my hand. âTiernan, hey.â
He shakes it. âKenneth.â He stares at my face. âWould you like to get some pizza?â
Oh. Uh⦠I open my mouth to refuse, but then someone is there, pulling my hand away out of Kennethâs. I look up to see Kaleb glaring down at the him, the blond guy standing up straight and drawing in a breath like he knows to back off.
Kaleb threads his fingers through mine and leads me away from the handsome young man, out the door, and across the street.
âHeâs just flirting,â I tease.
Kalebâs eyebrow cocks, and his lips twist to the side.
âI know, right?â I joke. âItâs hard work, guarding a beauty like me.â
He snorts, and I smile as we stop at the truck.
âI gotcha some candy worms.â I dangle the bag in front of him, but heâs not the least bit interested. Taking my face in his hands, he steals a kiss instead, and I revel in his smooth chin, jaw, and cheek. I love to kiss him. Especially when heâs clean-shaven.
âCome on. Weâre going to be late,â I tell him, reaching for the door handle.
He moves to open the door for me but stops, his eyes rising and looking over my shoulder, the color draining from his face.
I follow his gaze.
Cici Diggins strolls past us, her steps slowing and her eyes locked on Kaleb.
But my stare falls to her stomach. Her pregnant stomach.
My lungs empty. No.
I jerk my eyes to Kaleb, seeing his jaw flex and his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. How far along is she? Weâve been away from town for six months.
Unless sheâs carrying twins, sheâs farther along than that, which would meanâ¦
Is it Kalebâs?
I canât swallow. I canât breathe.
I look over my shoulder again to see her saunter up to us. âLet me guess,â she says. âYouâre going through the math in your head right now?â
She smirks, looking between us. âWeâll be in touch,â she whispers to Kaleb.
She walks away, and I blink, trying to keep the tears away. Please. I hold my stomach because it hurts. Not this.
âKaleb?â I murmur.
She was pregnant before the snow. She was pregnant well before the snow.
But he says nothing, simply opening the truck door and ushering me inside quickly.
He slams the door, rounds the front of the vehicle, and climbs into the driverâs side, speeding off toward home. The lumber in the bed bangs against the tailgate, and the groceries spill in the backseat.
I hold the handlebar above the door, staring over at him. âDid you know she was pregnant?â I asked.
His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel, and he wonât look at me.
âSheâs been pregnant a while. Is it yours?â
Still, nothing. Did he know? He seemed surprised. But maybe thatâs what she was upset about in the cave that day. She was pregnant, and he didnât want her.
Anger curdles inside me, and I breathe hard. âDid you know?â I demand. âDid you know last fall?â
He punches the gas, taking us across the train tracks, toward the highway leading home.
If itâs his, Cici will be in our lives forever. Sheâll have his first child, not me. Iâll never have that.
Wonât he say anything? Nod or shake his head? Why wonât he do anything? I know he can!
âJust let me out,â I choke out, the tears threatening. âStop the truck.â
He keeps driving.
âStop the truck!â I yell.
Finally, he looks at me, shaking his head.
âNo?â I say. âNo, what? Talk. I know you know how! Is the baby yours?â
Just communicate. Do something! But he keeps his mouth closed, and Iâve had enough.
Sliding over, I punch the brake, stalling the truck, and he swerves the wheel as it comes to a stop. I hop out, seeing him follow.
He stops me at the front of the car, coming in for me.
But I back away. âNo,â I tell him. No kissing. No holding. âSpeak. Right now. Is it yours? Did you know?â
He draws in quick, shallow breaths, staring at me, speechless. If he didnât know, then he could shake his head, and I wouldnât hate him. We could go from there.
If he knew, maybe he kept it quiet because he knew heâd be up on the mountain all winter, and maybe he didnât anticipate weâd fall in love. Maybe he thought he could run from this like he runs from everything.
Just talk to me.
His beautiful green gaze falls to the space between us, and thereâs nothing he wants to say to me.
The whir of an engine grows louder, and I know itâs Noah on his way home.
He pulls up next to us, planting his shoes on the ground. âHey, whatâs going on?â
I give Kaleb four more seconds, waiting for him to do or say anything.
When he doesnât, I climb on the bike behind Noah and wrap my arms around him.
âLetâs go.â I bury my head in his back. âHurry.â
We speed off, and for the first time, Kaleb doesnât pull me back to him.