FORTY-ONE
"Page, it seriously doesn't look that bad on you," Cheyanne assured me as I looked at myself in the full-length mirror that was in the fitting room.
"They should make a, like, junior maternity section or something," I exclaimed. Cheyanne and I both laughed because of how corrupt that would be.
"Right, Page. That's a great idea! I wonder why it hasn't been patented yet?"
I was shopping for clothes to wear since I definitely could not get away with any of my other clothes anymore. I was now seven months pregnant and fatter than ever. It was April and the weather was getting warmer so I was looking for nice summer dresses and the like, but nothing looked even remotely appealing to me.
"That looks really cute, Page. I think you should buy it."
"Why? So I can stash it away in about two months? God, everything seems so pointless."
"No, it's not. I think it's a good investment, personally," Cheyanne smiled.
"Chey, what would I do without you? You're seriously the only person that has been there for me through everything. I don't feel like so much of an outcast when I'm with you. Will you be my baby's godmother?"
"Of course! Are you sure you want me to be the godmother?"
"Completely. Who else would I choose? You are the only one who has been around, like I said. You're going to be Auntie Cheyanne!"
"Wow, you're so sweet," she beamed. Then she gave me a big hug.
"Thanks. Even Taylor hasn't been reliable lately. He was supposed to come up today, but him and his brothers are going to some concert in the city tonight. I mean, I can't expect him to be there all the time, but he can't even keep promises. It's cool if it's disappointing me because I can get over it, but what about our child?"
"Yeah. So, how are things with you and him?"
"I don't know. We're obviously together, but it's weird. I can't even pinpoint what's wrong. Right now we're too busy concentrating on the baby. He's driving me nuts with names, though."
"Why?"
"He wants to name our son Forest! Can you imagine the ridicule he'll face?"
"What? Is he fucking serious? You would never let him name him that!"
"I know! I like the names Christian and Liam."
"Oh, I like those. What about if it's a girl?"
"Hm, I don't know. I don't really think it'll be a girl. I have a feeling I'm having a boy. My Mom thinks so, too. She said I'm carrying low and everything. Plus, he's really active."
"You never know. I think you should go ahead and find out."
"No, it's okay. I'm just buying unisex clothes for now."
"So, is Taylor cool with the baby having your last name?"
"We haven't talked about that in, like, three months. Besides, I might change my mind because when I marry him---"
"You guys are getting married? What? Page, you don't have to marry him. Teens can have babies without a ring on their finger and still be okay. The hardest part will be over soon when you deliver the baby. The stares will die down soon."
"I wouldn't marry him because of the baby. I love him. As depressing and fucked up as we are, we love each other. I've always loved him."
"So did he propose?"
"No. We haven't even talked about it, but I know it's coming soon."
"You're ready to marry him?"
"I could marry him," I replied.
* * *
"Oh, my God! Taylor . . ." I moaned while Taylor was inside of me. Our hands were inside of one another's and he looked like he was having the most pleasuring experience he'd ever had. He noticed me looking up at him and he looked down at me and smiled. Who would have thought making love with a huge belly in the way would be so great? I sure as hell wouldn't have.
"I wish you could feel how good it feels to be inside of you," Taylor said breathily.
"It feels like Heaven to have you inside of me."
"What was that?"
"Don't stop," I pleaded.
"Was that the baby? I felt your stomach move a little," Taylor's stomach was pressed against mine. He put his hand on the spot on my belly where he felt it move.
"Yeah. I think that was an arm."
"Wow, I want it do it again," he said as if I could do it myself.
"So, you're not going to finish?"
"We'll finish some other time."
"Okay," I sighed. Taylor never stopped anything without finishing it. I could tell that he was really occupied with and amazed by our baby. He showed so much interest in everything pertaining to him.
"That is so cool. So, you're used to the baby just moving and everything. I'm missing out on so much," Taylor said regrettably. That was the first time he admitted it whole-heartedly.
"Yeah, you are."
"I'm sorry."
"Me, too."
Taylor lied down beside me and placed his hands behind his head and gazed up at the ceiling of the hotel room. He seemed to be contemplating something.
"So, what do I do? I can't help it, Page. You know that."
"I know. It's not your fault, baby."
"It feels like it's my fault," he said honestly. "That night of my birthday when you were talking about how it isn't fair that I get to continue with my life while you have to be ostracized really made me think. I felt so horrible knowing that you were right."
"Just because things are that way doesn't mean you made them like that. I guess that's just the way it goes," I replied. I began rubbing my tummy out of habit and Taylor helped me.
"I can't believe we're going to be parents in two months."
"Well, believe it. We should really talk about what's going to happen after I have the baby."
"What do you mean?"
"You're always gone and everything. You can't raise a child long distance."
"Well, I don't know. You're not going to college, so maybe you could just stay with me."
"Just follow you around everywhere?"
"That isn't that horrible of an idea, is it?"
"We need stability," I retorted. I was referring to all of us.
"I know. Maybe we should get married," Taylor joked.
"Really?" I asked, a little bit too excitedly.
"I don't know. I was only kidding. You're not even eighteen yet."
"Besides, I would never walk down the aisle with this huge tummy."
"I think it's kind of cute, myself," Taylor grinned.
I blushed a little and then continued with my concerns. "I'm living with my Mom for the first couple of months."
"Then I am, too," Taylor replied.
"Yeah, right. No one will go for that one."
"When you came to visit me for my birthday you slept in my room and right now you're in my hotel room and your Mom knows that. I think they'll be okay with me staying with you."
"I hope you're right. I have to get home. I have school tomorrow."
"I can't wait until you graduate."
"Neither can I," I agreed.
I got dressed and headed home in a really good mood. I walked through the front door to find my Mother sitting in our living room, reading a book.
"Hey Mom! It's late, why are you still up?"
"You're right, it is late," she said glancing at her watch. "It's fifteen minutes past twelve."
"Sorry . . ."
"Page, what is going on? You asked to go down to the city to see Taylor, but it turned out to be an all afternoon and evening thing. Why couldn't he have come up here?"
'Because we wanted to have sex,' I thought in my head. Instead, I shrugged and started to go upstairs.
"Did I say you could leave, yet? Just because you're having his baby doesn't mean you can act like an adult. You have to still check in with me, you still have to respect curfew and you still can't are to respect what I say."
"Fine."
"You think this pregnancy is a free ticket to do whatever the hell you want," she remarked bitterly.
"No, I don't," I said. My Mom was never this blunt.
"You guys can't act like you're married, either."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Sleeping together, Page. Literally and non-literally, you guys can't just expect everyone to be okay with it. You're still underage and you're still living under the Monroe family roof. Just because your father isn't here anymore doesn't mean you can just ignore the rules we established."
"Mom, I understand. God, why are you starting this? I want to go to sleep, okay? Goodnight."
"Fine, goodnight. We'll talk about this later."
Ordinarily, I'd go off and scream. I'd tell her that I was almost eighteen and I could do whatever the hell I wanted. I'd tell her I planned on moving out anyway. I'd tell her she couldn't keep me locked in my room for all eternity. But nothing was ordinary anymore.