MAY 9, 2015 - 3 MONTHS BEFORE

CULVER'S WAS PACKED. Being the only decent bar in Cape Vincent, people tended to flock here on Saturday nights. The room was warm and dimly lit, laughter bouncing off the walls, voices straining to be heard over the seventies rock coming from the speakers.

By contrast, I was cold, stiff as a board, my knee bouncing as my eyes raked over the menu on the table unseeingly, as if I hadn't seen it a million times before. I glanced at my phone, checking the time. Or rather, the date, swallowing when I caught sight of it.

It was the ninth of May, which put me at around ten weeks. I curled my fingers into fists to keep them from grazing my stomach.

Will was next to me, Duncan and Naomi across from us, but I felt like I was underwater. I'd become awful at being present, I was constantly ten thousand miles deep into my brain, unable to find a way out. And the times I could focus, everything felt like too much. Lights were too harsh, noises were too loud, and the tiniest of disturbances made me flinch as though I'd been slapped.

Naomi was speaking animatedly, already a little tipsy from pre-gaming, and I lifted my eyes to watch her, but even with my full attention trained on her, I could only catch a few words. I blinked, watching her lips move. It was like everyone around me had suddenly learned a new language, one I'd never learned how to speak.

Suddenly the waiter was at our table, and I jumped a little in my seat. He stared at me, and I realized everyone else had already ordered. Somehow I'd missed it.

"And for you?" he prompted.

"Oh, um," I started, my throat dry. "Just a water for me, thanks."

I was such an infrequent drinker that no one batted an eye at my choice to stay sober, and I exhaled quietly in relief as the waiter left. An arm landed around my shoulder and I flinched again, before catching myself.

Will froze next to me, a flicker of hurt dashing across his features as his arm hovered in mid-air. "Sorry," he murmured, unable to mask the confusion in the word.

I pulled a smile onto my lips, laughing breathily. "It's alright, I'm just jumpy."

His eyes were bright even in the lowlight as he took in my rigid posture, slowly returning his arm to his side, and I felt the tug of wanting to lean into him. He was wearing the sweater I'd gifted him for his last birthday, paired with the cologne I'd gotten him for Christmas. I swallowed heavily, rooted in place.

I wished so badly for things to be normal again.

There was a question on his face, a betrayal, one he would've put into words if we were alone, but we weren't. We hadn't been alone much lately. In fact, I'd organized this whole thing tonight as if I was trying to prove to myself, and to him, that I could be normal, that I was normal. That I could go out with my boyfriend and our best friends and have a good time, in spite of the secret I was carrying that was so crushing I felt like I was on the precipice of being destroyed at any second.

I was failing miserably.

The waiter came back with our drinks shortly after and I clutched my glass, my hand instantly wet with condensation, the cold pinching my skin. I could feel Will's eyes land on me every few seconds, and each time I bristled, feeling like the room was shrinking. My chest began to rise and fall, and I could feel myself slipping, my balance wobbling as I walked the tightrope in my mind.

Will leaned closer to my ear. "Viv—"

The tightrope went slack.

"Bathroom," I choked out, rising to my feet abruptly and grabbing my bag.

Duncan and Naomi halted mid-conversation, blinking up at me.

"Need a bathroom buddy?" she asked.

"I'll just be a second."

Giving them a cursory tight-lipped smile that I hoped looked at least somewhat believable, I headed toward the bathrooms, forcing myself to walk at a normal speed. Once inside, I braced myself in front of one of the sinks, turning on the faucet, squeezing my eyes shut and hurriedly splashing water onto my face.

My breathing slowed a bit. Sniffling, I grabbed some paper towel to wipe away the mascara that had smudged beneath my eyes. My fingers were trembling, gaze falling to my stomach. I'd opted for a baggy sweater, though I wasn't anywhere close to showing yet.

I thought of the abortion information pamphlet that was crumpled at the bottom of my bag. I'd snagged it on the way out of my last doctor's appointment. All of this could be over.

At the end of the day, I was the one who got to decide if I wanted to grow something inside of me for nine months, then push it out of me and be responsible for it for eighteen years. But Will. . . he deserved to know. Rationally, I knew this. And yet, the thought of telling him nearly made me double over with nausea. It would change everything even more than it already had.

I didn't know how long I'd been away from the table, but I knew it was longer than "just a moment". Taking a deep breath, I tried to center myself before leaving the bathroom. I hadn't made it very far before I nearly collided with Will. I laughed lightly, assuming he was on his way in, but instead he reached out, clasping my arms and pulling me off to the side.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey," I responded, a placid smile stuck on my face, eyebrows creasing in confusion. "What are you doing?"

He was silent, mouth pressed into a thin line, watching me carefully. I felt my palms begin to sweat. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"This is the longest you've looked at me all night," he said. Guilt immediately sank like a stone in my stomach.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, not knowing what else to say.

He shook his head. "I didn't say that to make you apologize, I just. . . is everything okay?"

"Everything's great."

"You're a bad liar."

I almost laughed. Nearly every word out of my mouth the past ten weeks had felt like a lie. Of course, I clearly wasn't selling it as much as I hoped I was. I needed to do better. Or, alternatively, I needed to tell the truth.

"Is it because you're leaving in a couple of months? Are you worried about us?" he asked, lowering his head to my height.

My throat felt thick.

"No, it's not that, I just—"

"Whoa, party by the bathrooms!"

I flinched as we were interrupted by Naomi approaching, oblivious to the nature of our exchange. I swallowed the rest of my words, stepping away from Will and letting his fingers slip from my arms.

"Viv, do you have stain remover?" she asked with a pout, showing me a splotch on her shirt.

Will's eyes were still riveted to my face.

"I think so," I said, pretending not to notice and peering into my bag. "There's better light in there."

I tilted my head in the direction of the ladies' room, and Naomi headed inside after calling me a life saver. I hovered in the hallway, meeting Will's eyes. We were only a few feet away, but it felt like an increasing number of miles were stretching between us.

I wanted to go to him, and tell him that I was everything that was wrong, that he was still everything that was right. And he lingered, watching me, waiting for some kind of explanation as to why I was steadily becoming a stranger.

But instead I pursed my lips into a faint smile, turning away before I could see his expression, and following Naomi inside.

---

wowow it's been so long!! my apologies for disappearing just when i was on an updating roll.

there was a lot going on for me irl for a while there but things are settling down so i'm hopeful i can return to writing more, i've really missed it. 

the events of this story feel like they have much more weight given the recent events in america. we don't know vivienne's choice yet, but the fact that she has one is so important. no one should be forced to go through a pregnancy they don't want, no matter the reason.

hope you enjoyed <3