If I were actually given the choice of whether I wanted an abortion or not, I really can’t say what I would have done. But my mom had made that choice for me, and I would be the one to live with it for the rest of my life. We were still working on our relationship, and I’m not sure it would ever really be normal again, but we were at least cordial to each other. It’s not like we ever had the type of bond where I told her everything, or we went shopping together.
Anyway, after I finally realized that I was going to be teaching actual kids, I experienced a bit of a panic attack. I went to my school counselor and debated on switching my major, but I just kept going back to the same one. I was glad I did. I loved all of my classes so far, and I was slowly getting over my fear of kids; the internship I did during last semester definitely helped. They really weren’t that scary…most of the time.
I was rushing across campus so I wouldn’t be late to my next class when I heard my phone ring in my purse, and I somehow dug it out without slowing down.
Marley: Which one?
The text, followed by pictures of two different outfit choices for the day, made me smile. I always got the same kind of message from Marley. We were each other’s stylists even though we lived hundreds of miles apart.
Marley had been one of my best friends, along with Madison, at the swanky private school I attended back in Connecticut. God, I had been so different back then, I was almost a totally different person now.
When I moved to North Carolina, I pretty much cut off all contact with everyone from the pretentious town where I’d lived with my mother and stepfather. No one ever knew about the pregnancy, the abortion, or my attempt at suicide. Well, at least, that’s what I thought.
After I ignored Marley and Madison’s few attempts to contact me, somehow that information was leaked all over every social media outlet possible. And Madison had been the culprit. It really wasn’t that surprising when I finally answered the phone to a crying Marley who tattled on her supposed best friend. Apparently, Madison made richer, snobbier, best friends when they went away to college together, and decided to ditch Marley once and for all.
I was a little cautious about talking to Marley at first. I could totally see the two of them scheming together to get some more information out of me with the whole best-friend-breakup story. She always seemed to want everything of mine, boys included, but I guess I couldn’t blame her. Not everything had been handed to her on a silver spoon like it had been to me.
But Marley seemed to be genuinely hurt and like she needed a friend.
I realized after a while, I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. Marley and Madison, in whatever twisted way, had really been my friends, just not as good as the ones I had now. So, Marley and I started to talk and text again, and I really did consider her one of my true friends.
I typed a quick message back as I slid into a seat in my classroom.
Me: Red one with the skinny jeans and ankle boots, it will look fab with your coloring. Oh, and that leopard purse.
I tucked my phone away and tuned in to class, pulling out my notebook to take as many notes as possible. Half of the students seemed to pay attention, while the other half either drifted off to sleep or tapped away on their phones playing mindless games or pecking out messages. That used to be me—hell, I had probably been worse. The only friends I made back at the community college were stoners, and I basically used them when I needed something to forget about my life for a while.
Class finished all too soon, and we were given a handout about a major paper due in two weeks. Everyone groaned, including me. Writing really wasn’t my thing, I tended to be more of a hands-on type of person, but I knew I could manage. I took out my phone, checking to see that I had about an hour before my shift. Just enough time to run home, change into my work “uniform,” and be on my way.
I called Grams when I saw she tried to reach me several times while I was in class, which instantly set off alarm bells. Grams knew my school schedule better than I did, which amazed me since she wasn’t getting any younger and she would be the first one to tell you that. If she was calling, it had to be for something important. She and my grandpa were both still fairly healthy, but I knew that my time with them was limited. That was just life.
“Grams, what’s wrong?” I asked as soon as I heard someone pick up on the other end. My stomach was in knots, and my mind was racing with a multitude of scenarios.
“Della, honey, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything. How are you doing, dear?”
“Fine,” I dragged out. Maybe she was going a little senile and I just hadn’t noticed it.
I heard her clicking her tongue on the other end and the rustle of something before she spoke again. “Have you read the paper today?”
“Um…nope, haven’t gotten a chance.” I rolled my eyes to the sky as I walked back across campus toward the student parking lot. Sure, I loved school in a dorky kind of way, but reading the local newspaper wasn’t really a priority.