|posted on 9-Jun-2002 1:51:40 AM by Eerie|
|Rating: NC-17 at times|
Disclaimer: Dont own Roswell, end of story
Summary: Liz and Max spend a night of passion together, problem is neither know who the other is. will they be able to deal with the repercussions?
If you told me five years ago if I would’ve been a single mother today, I would’ve told you you’re crazy. I would’ve said that I was still a virgin and I had my priorities straight, with no intention of losing control of my life.
I wanted to start my career and then build a family. My main priority was getting in to Harvard. Harvard was my ticket to a new world filled with infinite possibilities. I was going to become head of the molecular biology department and then teach other young hopefuls all about the subject, hopefully instilling in them the awe I felt.
So I guess you’re wondering if I made it or not, huh?
I’m Liz Parker and this is my story.
5 years ago…
“Michael, I got in!” I scream to my best friend Michael Guerin. We met in kindergarten. It was recess time and we collided into each other on the monkey bars. Needless to say we both fell to the ground. We weren’t injured, thankfully the monkey bars were pretty low, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t call attention to ourselves. Once we’d assured everyone we were ok, it was the beginning of a new friendship.
Turning my attention back to the moment I stare at Michael, my eyes wide with wonder. “Michael, did you get in? Open it!” I shout, anxiously waiting. He stands there, staring at the envelope in his hands. His facial expression says it all. He’s contemplating whether he should open it at all.
If he’s accepted or rejected, either way he’s going to be disappointed. See, Michael sent in an application to a secluded, exclusive art school in Los Angeles, California. If he gets in, we’re both losing our best friend. Of course we’ll make attempts to see each other, but sooner or later one of us is bound to get lazy and our friendship will go caput.
On the other hand, if he’s rejected, it will be even worse. This was his top choice college and he’d be crushed if he didn’t get in.
“Open it for me,” Michael says, handing me the envelope uneasily.
As I grasp the thin paper, my trembling hands opening it carefully. I lift out the letter, letting the envelope slip to the floor.
“You got in!” I shriek, oozing with happiness. “This calls for a celebration.” By now I’m jumping up and down excitedly.
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Michael says, obviously trying to calm me down. “The Alienation?” he asks, one eyebrow arched up.
I bet you’re wondering what ‘The Alienation’ is. It’s Roswell’s exclusive dance club intended for adults between the ages of 18 and 26. There are a few people ranging down to 16 or even up to 28 hanging out there. Michael and I were one of those 16 year olds a couple years ago0, compliments of fake ID’s. Now we’re 18 and what need is there for fake ID’s?
“You read my mind. So, meet me here in an hour?”
Michael nods his head as he retreats through the double doors of the Crashdown. The Crashdown, my parents’ alien themed restaurant. There are so many memories in this restaurant. Mainly of the friendship Michael and I share. Seeing as how I am the daughter of the owners, it’s inevitable that I would work here. Of course that meant Michael was an employee too.
I remember freshman year when my parents made me wear the official waitress uniform. You would not believe how many times Michael teased me because of it. Only he would do such a thing. Then, he’d have to punch every guy that so much as whistled at me.
Believe me, once he got into a uniform, I made sure he got his share of teasing. Sophomore year he became the assistant cook, following in old Jose’s steps. Dad made him wear sunglasses in the shape of alien eyes. At the time he’d said they were ‘hip’ and ‘the latest trend.’ Yeah dad, keep telling yourself that. Seems to be the only people who ever thought they were ‘the latest trend’ were the tourists.
An hour later, I find myself trying to decide which shirt to wear. Red or blue? I hold the shirts, each on a hanger, flipping them back and forth in front of me.
“The red one,” Michael says, slipping through my small bedroom window. Without another word, I retreat to the bathroom. Slipping on the red halter-top, I glance at my reflection, deciding to leave my face completely natural, except for a small amount of lip-gloss.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I notice Michael lightly tapping his foot. “Took you long enough. Ready?” One thing about Michael: he’s always straightforward and hates small talk. If he’s got something to say, then he’ll say it, no beating around the bush.
Flash forward to The Alienation. The club is bouncing with some dope alternative rock beats from a local band, The Whits. I remember when Michael was dating their lead singer our sophomore year. Of course, the relationship was volatile; nothing but fights and the girl, Maria, crying. Personally, I think Maria is perfect for Michael. Her spunky attitude compliments his sarcastic and rude attitude, although he’ll never admit it. Maria just happens to also my co-worker at The Crashdown. She helps out with waitressing, and believe me, I get my fill of their bickering. However ‘perfect’ they are for each other, it’s just too much to bear sometimes.
The pulsing beat is calling my name to the dance floor. Raising my arms and swaying my hips, I make my way over there. Soon, I find myself lost among all the other sweaty bodies getting down to the music, feeling my blood pulse with the beat. I lose track of how many songs I’ve been dancing to, but at this particular moment, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is the moment my life makes one giant u-turn.
I’m suddenly pulled into the arms of a strong, yet gentle man. His eyes are the deepest pools of amber I’ve seen in my entire life. His hands find their home on my hips, as he tugs me closer to his body. I comply, my hands snaking to fit around his neck.
Our lower regions continue to grind and sway, synchronizing exactly in tune with each other.
The man is beautiful and before I know it, my lips are attacking his as I push him back against the wall. By this point, I don’t know whose lips are attacking who’s.
As I’m pressed up against this stranger I feel his ever-growing erection. I’ve never felt this way before. You know what I’m talking about…lust. This man brings out this primal force in me and before I know it, I’m the one who’s being pressed up against the wall.
Grabbing the guy’s hand, I silently lead him up the club stairs. Everyone knows what goes on, on the second level of The Alienation. Come on, do I need to spell it out for you? S-E-X. I’ve heard some pretty wild stories about the second level. Now, it was my turn to fully experience ‘the second level.’
I’m a virgin and I’m about to lose it. Just because I’m horny over some guy. Anyone have some self-control they’d like to donate before I turn the doorknob? No? Damn. The door is open and before closing it I slip on the ‘do not disturb’ tag. This is not like me. This is not usual behavior for me, but it’s like there’s this force driving me, controlling me. And I don’t want to stop it.
The stranger’s lips assault mine, as his body presses me up against the door, before I know it. Pulling his face closer, I continue to explore the deepest, darkest corners of his mouth.
For once I’m not thinking and reacting by impulse. My mind is a mess and my heart flutters as if its on cloud 9.
Attempting to draw my body as close to his as possible, my legs expertly jump up and wrap around his waist. I can feel the tip of his erection lightly pressing against my pants. I’m oozing with need as the stranger carries me over to the bed.
To tell you the truth, I never really expected my first time to be in a cheesy room such as this one. The sheets were like silk beneath my fingertips, smooth and cool to the touch. Although the setting was quite romantic…it was almost too romantic. The place was practically screaming, “FUCK HERE!”
The headboard is in the shape of a heart, but my attention is brought back to the hungry male sliding up my body. He’s as breathless as I am, if not more.
My body is shaking with need for him and my heart is souring as if on cloud 9. This man has my complete and utter attention, and now I’m about to give him the best thing I have, my virginity. My trembling hands move down his shirt and I tug it over his head right before his lips come crashing down on my own.
The rest of our clothes are thrown and scattered into opposite ends of the room as we completely ravish each other, our hands exploring the other’s body. His hands kneed my breasts as he looks over my naked form. I shiver under his heated glare, but I continue to savor the moment, letting his hands touch me, let his hands explore me.
His hands move away and I whimper in protest. “Don’t stop,” I manage to huff out.
“I have no such intention,” he says. Those are the first words he’s spoken to me all night, and his voice is absolute heaven. His tongue is swirling around my nipple doing magic I thought no man could ever create.
I moan and arch into his mouth, hoping he’ll use more than just his tongue. Instead, he continues his torturous motions, repeating the same pattern on my other breast.
At this point I am beyond sexual frustration. I flip him over so that I’m lying on top. I finally get a good glimpse of this Greek god’s body. Wow, I didn’t know men came in such heavenly packages. Sliding down his body, I ‘accidentally’ brush my naval against the tip of his erection.
I can see fresh liquid come out of his member and I’m completely fascinated. Taking his member in my hand, I guide it into my mouth. Who would’ve guessed at little Lizzie Parker giving a stranger a blowjob, certainly not me.
I start to pick up the pace, feeling the length of him going deeper and deeper into my mouth. My eyes flutter open enough to see the man on the bed gripping the sheets. His dick starts to pulsate and I know he’s near release. Instead of helping him with that, I gently slide the end of his head out of my mouth.
Returning the favor buddy. His eyes shine with that familiar hunger I’m used to seeing in his golden depths, as he flips me over. Capturing my mouth in his own, he does his own type of exploring.
His erection is now pressed gently at my entrance. It’s sweet actually. He pulls away from my lips and gazes into my eyes questioning. I nod in silent answer and open my legs further. He enters slowly at first, as if knowing I’m a virgin. He proceeds to push until I can take it anymore. I dig my heels into his tight, hot ass, pushing him deeper inside of me, tearing my barrier in the process. I scream out in pain and the man stops his ministrations. He slowly starts moving within me and I can feel the pain turn into immense pleasure. There’s something else I can feel too, emotions? I feel concern and…love? I look into the stranger’s eyes and raise myself up beneath him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
Soon, he takes the hint and after a few minutes of taking things slow and gently. He begins to thrust, both of us begging for our turning point. I can feel myself near the edge and I know the man is almost near exploding. What is he waiting for?
A few more deep thrusts and I’m over the edge. As if the experience couldn’t get more pleasurable, I feel him thrust his seed deep inside of me and I know this is where I belong. In his arms.
I look at him as I’m panting and out of breath, he looks like he’s about to collapse. He seems to be having an inner battle, until he pulls out of me and collapses at my side.
Together, we climb under the silk sheets, reveling in the feel of skin against skin. My eyelids close and I’m brought into the oblivion of ‘sweet dreams.’
[ edited 7 time(s), last at 17-Feb-2003 12:02:44 PM ]
|posted on 18-Jun-2002 2:03:53 PM by Eerie|
Is it really morning already? The sun is poking its growing rays through the silk drapes and my eyes flutter open. Wait. I don't have silk drapes. This isn't my bed, this isn't my room, and that most definitely is not my man!
I take a glance at his heavenly body and I know it's too good to be true. His chest is rising and falling, giving me a better look at his to die for muscles. I've never seen any man so in shape. My eyes drift lower to find the sheets are tangled around his waist, but that doesn't mean I still can't see his-ok, never mind. The physical attraction I have towards this man is nothing compared to the emotional attraction I feel towards him. I've never felt this way about anyone before. He had me at "hello". Of course, we never even said hello to each other, but I know if I stick around there'll be plenty of hellos.
Suddenly, it hits me. I'm going to Harvard. I have dreams, dreams that don't include falling in love until after college. Wow, did I just say falling in love? No, I can't. You see if I fall in love, then it makes it impossible to go to a college that could be about as far apart as Michael and I are going to be. Maybe even farther. I know I can't deal with that kind of heartache right now.
Mustering up all the courage I have left and every ounce of will power, I rise off the bed, careful not to jostle it too much. Once off the bed I take a glance at the floor. Clothes are scattered everywhere. Tiptoeing as quickly and quietly as possibly I gather my clothing. At least what I can find of it. Damn, where is my underwear? I throw on my other clothes deciding that getting the hell out of here is much more important than finding my underwear. My halter-top is put on haphazardly, along with my pants and shoes. My eyes drift back to the sleeping form on the bed.
Who was this man? Maybe after college I could look him up. His heap of clothing is lying on the floor and I reach for his pants, pulling out the wallet. If I get a look at his drivers license I would know his name, and the rest would be history, or the future, I guess. At that particular moment the man decides to stir around on the bed and I knew it was only a matter of moments before he would be waking up. There's only one thing for me to do. Panic. Dropping the wallet, I dash to the door. I slip outside, after opening and closing the door as quietly as possible.
That, my friends is the biggest mistake of my life. Not sleeping with the stranger, but merely walking out on him.
Now, I'm running down the street. I've gone about four blocks when my dumb heal breaks. I knew these shoes were cheap when I bought them. Who sells heals for ten dollars anyway? Wouldn't you figure?
The only way to get myself out of this mess is to get to the Crashdown and talk to Maria. She's the only one who will be even semi-understanding. Never would I dream of telling Michael what happened. Sure, he's my best friend, but he's more like a brother. His natural reaction would be to rip the stranger to shreds. I remember when he first found out I was dating. The poor guy I was dating for not even 24 hours ended up with a broken nose. Needless to say, the guy dumped me, scared of what Michael was going to do next.
Finally, I see the Crashdown lights. I hobble inside, still wearing my broken shoe.
"Chica! What happened? You look like shit," Maria says. Well, at least she's honest. Michael's not working today. I can see Jose working the grill. I can look on the bright side - at this moment, instead of being interrogated by Michael, I get to discuss girl matters with Maria.
"Thanks, Maria," I say sarcastically. My tone changes as I try to get straight to the point, "I need to talk to you. Is there anywhere-more private?" My head is glancing around the restaurant. The old people are starting to stare at me. Then again, I bet I'm quite a sight. My shoe is broken, my shirt is crooked and I have bed head.
"Sure, I get off in about half an hour. Why don't you go shower and change and we can discuss this private thing when you're done," Maria says sympathetically.
I nod and walk away, pushing the swinging door into the kitchen open and climb up the steps to my apartment. Once inside my room I gather some clothing and go into the bathroom. I strip down and step into the shower. The pain from the night before is still there. The whole night had been amazing, and now I have to deal with the after effects. Speaking of after effects, did we use a condom? I was so horny, I forgot to ask and I'm not on the pill. What am I going to do? I could be pregnant. There could be a little boy or little girl growing down there right now, and I don't even know the father's name.
* * *
I'd ended up losing track of time while I was in the shower. So after dressing and making myself look presentable it'd been half an hour by the time I made it back to the Crashdown. Maria had been in the employee's only area, changing into her own clothes and out of that silly uniform we had to wear.
"Ok, Chiquita, what's on your mind?" Maria asks, oblivious to the fact that we're still in an eavesdropping area.
"Can't we talk somewhere more private? Somewhere where my dad or Michael can't drop in at any time?" Wow, is it just me, or do I sound really paranoid?
"Sure, my place? Although, I can't guarantee Michael won't be dropping in at anytime. You know how guys are," she says winking and nudging my arm.
Unfortunately, I know all too well how guys can be. Take last night for example. The man had completely forgotten the condom. Is it because he didn't have one and just wanted a late night fuck? Was I just another whore on his list? Whore. Am I a whore?
"You ok?" Maria asks, breaking me of my thoughts. "We better go right now, you look troubled." The walk to Maria's house seemed to take forever. We didn't really talk much because the thoughts in my head kept branching into new ideas. What if the guy was a pimp looking for some hookers? Ok, now THAT is a crazy idea.
Finally we arrive at Maria's place. Wouldn't you guess, her mother is miraculously out of town, luckily leaving Maria and I to the entire house. "Ok, we're here. Where do you want to start?"
"I guess from the beginning. This-this can't be told to either Michael or my father. I just-I don't know if I have anything stable in my life anymore. Michael and I went to that club last night, The Alienation," I start. Maria's guiding me into the living room. She sits down on the couch, but I continue to just stand there.
"Oh, yeah, Michael and I were bumping and grinding. Oh my god, he was your ride home wasn't he? I'm so sorry. I can't believe how inconsiderate I was!" Maria says her eyes apologizing.
"It's ok. I met a guy there. We uh, got close. There's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to say it. Maria, I'm no longer a virgin. I fucked a guy I didn't know, and before you go off saying anything it was as much my decision as it was his. Maria, my god, I think I'm emotionally attached to the man. I don't even know his name. All I know is that I walked out on him this morning when I should've stayed there and asked to know more about him. What was I thinking? I fell in love and I let the man go." I'm pacing back and forth, attempting to get rid of the nerves that keep building up like the steam in a kettle on the stove. Any second now I'm going to explode.
"Chica, you're in love? Wow."
"That's not it! He's probably gone from the hotel that we slept in together. He probably doesn't live here. I've never seen someone that gorgeous before, and if I had I think I'd remember. Oh, and trust me it gets worse." I continue ranting, my hands flying in all directions, to emphasize my point. Is it possible for a petite girl like myself to burn a hole into a rug? Because I think it's happening right now. "We didn't use a condom-and I'm not on the pill. I could end up with an STD, or worse, pregnant. What am I going to do? My dreams are shattered!"
"Ok, Chiquita, calm down," Maria says after standing up. Her hands go to my shoulders halting my movements. "Now, we're going to get you to a doctor and we'll check everything out. Michael won't know anything about this, don't worry. Here, some cedar oil, it helps to calm the nerves." Maria is holding out a tinted bottle while I reluctantly take a whiff. It's amazing how my body seems to relax just by the simple scent.
"Maria, what am I going to do? What if I am pregnant?" I ask calmly, but on the verge of tears.
"Well-if you want, there are alternate options. You don't have to have the baby. There's always abortion or adoption."
"I can't do that. Not to an innocent child. There so small and - to kill it would just be, wrong. As for adoption - giving it up would be the hardest thing. If that baby's growing in there for 9 months of my life I think I deserve to take care of it."
"Well, I guess we'll have to get you to a doctor. I'm going to call the doctor right now. You, sit down and relax," Maria says, taking control of the situation. It's odd, but this is exactly what I need right now. Someone who will tell me what to do and calm my ever rising nerves. I plop down onto the couch and grip the pillow as tight as possible.
Moments pass by and my brain is frozen. I continue to stare ahead of me without a thought. I don't know what to think anymore. I'm paralyzed by the growing fear. Before I know it, Maria comes back into the room and tells me that there's a doctor’s appointment scheduled in a week.
"Maria, I know we haven't been the best of friends, but I just wanted to thank you. For everything, for letting me come here, for calming me, and for setting up that doctors appointment."
"Hey, if the roles were switched, I bet you'd do the same thing for me," Maria responded.
I stand up and give Maria a tight hug. "Now, please, I just, I can't have Michael or my parents finding out-so do you think, could we keep this between us? I mean strictly between us. You know how small Roswell is. If someone catches wind of what happened the rumor mill will be grinding."
"Of course, my lips are sealed. You have my word, chica," Maria says, emphasizing her point she pretends to zip her lips shut and throw away the key.
|posted on 8-Jul-2002 11:16:28 AM by Eerie|
|AN: thanks so much for the feedback and bumps you guys. you have no idea how much it means to me. I had this part written a week ago and I sent it to 2 of my betas and neither one of them has gotten back to me yet. I'm too shy to post the original version I had, so please be patient. also, I wont be able to write the next part til next week cuz I have work until next tuesday...then I have about a week off where I'll have more time to write. again, I'm so sorry, and because of all the bumps you get my big LONG excuse. oh, but this week, if my beta gets back to me I WILL post the next part, regardless that I have work, I just can't write the next chapter if you know what I mean. but I'm so sorry guys, I havent forgotten this.|
|posted on 19-Jul-2002 2:24:10 AM by Eerie|
“Ok, thank you,” I tell the doctor on the other line. Not only moments ago I found out the results from both the sexually transmitted disease tests and the pregnancy test.
A couple days ago I’d gone into the doctor’s office completely petrified. My heart was racing and I swear I saw my hands trembling. Maria had been by my side the entire time, holding my hand while the doctor looked around, if you get my drift. You could’ve said it was actually some female bonding, in its own odd sort of way.
Although I was squeezing onto Maria’s hand for dear life, the poking and prodding had minimal pain. I wasn’t so much afraid of the doctor, I was afraid of the results.
If I was pregnant, what was I going to do with my life? Would I have to drop out of Harvard? I knew I would. You see, Harvard hadn’t offered me a full scholarship. I knew when I’d gotten to Boston, Massachusetts I’d have to find a job, and even that would be hard to hold up. The possibility that I would have to support another life would be almost impossible if I’d decided to go to Harvard.
So, here I was on the phone with the doctor. I believe his exact words were, “We have some great news for you Ms. Parker. The STD tests performed turned up negative and it looks as though you’re going to have a healthy baby.”
You can imagine my shock to the whole situation. I tried not to sound depressed when I thanked him, but that was like asking Miss Piggy to suddenly become attracted to Mr. Potato Head. Miss Piggy and Mr. Potato Head? Can you honestly imagine what sort of children they would have? Mr. Spud Squiggly Tail. What a child.
A child. I was pregnant. I have to break the news to Michael first. If anything, he can help me with my parents. I just know nothing good will come of telling my parents. They always taught me to stay abstinent until marriage. My mother told me that the best thing to give a man on your wedding night was yourself, knowing that you had been with no one else. What would they say about the baby? Would they make me get rid of it in order to maintain my status at Harvard?
I won’t and can’t let that happen. I would disappear before my parents made me get rid of this tiny baby growing inside of me, even though it made my dreams of going to Harvard flush down the toilet with the morning sickness.
After the call with the doctor, I pick the phone up and dial the one number that I’ve known for at least a decade, minus my own. The familiar voice on the other end picks up and suddenly I’m extremely nervous of telling Michael I’m pregnant. Honestly, this is something you don’t tell someone over the phone. So, I have to act as calm and casual as I can and make this ‘meeting’ as normal as possible.
“Speak,” Michael orders, after picking up his end of the receiver.
“Michael, meet me on the balcony.” With that I hang up. There really was no need to say my goodbye because Michael would’ve just hung up on me anyway. After setting the phone back in its cradle, I walk out to the balcony, sitting on the plush red chair.
I look up at the clear blue sky and wonder where this mystery man is right now. Is he sitting in a chair right now thinking about me? Or does he not even care? If I were to see him again, what would I say? Would I just skip passed all of the hellos and tell him blatantly that I’m pregnant? My hands begin to tremble in fear and anticipation, and before I know it, I’m pacing back and forth, waiting for Michael to arrive. Out of nervousness, I tuck my hair behind my ears every ten seconds. Habit, I guess.
Finally, Michael arrives, and he sees the state I’m in. That’s me just one giant bundle of nerves! How can I tell him? Should I just up and say it? There really is no other way.
“Liz? You ok?” Michael asks. “I came here as quick as I could…usually I’m the one to hang up on you.” He laughs awkwardly, obviously trying to lighten the mood. It’s not working.
“Michael, there’s something I need to tell you. Now, please don’t go storming out of here, mad at me or the other person. I just…I need a friend right now. Especially since I don’t know how I’m going to break it to my parents. I just hope you’ll be by my side for that moment.” I can see his confused face and his brows furrow, but I press on. If I don’t get this out right now, I may lose my best friend. “I can’t go to Harvard…I won’t be able to make it. I’m going to UCLA.”
“But Harvard is your dream. I refuse to let you give up your dreams, Liz,” Michael says, taking a seat on the ledge of the balcony.
“Please, Michael, just listen to the whole story,” I say, gathering the rest of my thoughts and nerves. “There’s no easy way to say this, but I’m pregnant. That night at the Alienation… some guy and I…”
Before I can finish my sentence Michael butts in. “Did he rape you? Oh god, Lizzie, who is the bastard, I’m going to kick his ass.” See? The overprotective brother that was hiding in there just made an appearance.
“It was my decision too.”
“What’s his name? I’m gonna kick his ass for knocking you up,” Michael says, emphasizing his point by pounding his fist into the palm of his other hand.
I can’t take this, not right now. So, I collapse onto the plush chair, my head in my hands as the tears fall freely. “I…I d-don’t know!” It’s a shock that I got anything out, with my voice quavering and the sobs wracking my entire body.
“I’m sorry Lizzie. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Michael says soothingly. He moves over beside me in the chair and rubs my back tenderly. “I’ll do whatever you need. I’m here for you.”
“Th-th-thanks,” I sob, turning so that I can hug him. We sit there for a while him stroking my hair and me attempting to close the floodgates.
“We’re going to find a place in Los Angeles and I’ll help you raise the child. You don’t have to worry about anyone not being there for you.” Michael knows exactly what to say at a time like this. It’s surprising considering his usual demeanor is sarcastic and he has the tendency to push people away.
Finally, gathering my senses together, I pull away and look at him. My crying has subsided for now. Is the reason for this little episode pregnancy hormones? I finally catch my voice, without the sobbing and hiccupping. “I…I have to tell my parents tonight, Michael. Please tell me, you’ll come for dinner. I don’t want to do this alone.”
“Of course I’ll do it,” he responds. He sounds enthusiastic, making the tension rise from the situation. “Lizzie…if you need to tell me anything, I’m here for you. I don’t want you to be nervous or afraid.”
So, that means he saw me shaking and tucking hair behind my ears when he came up to my balcony. Although, I think ANYONE would have noticed the fear I was carrying at that moment. Then again, will that fear be anything compared to what it’ll be like to tell my parents? They’ll be livid.
“Ok.” Quickly, I glance at the clock on my nightstand from the balcony. It’s almost five o’clock. Dinner in the Parker household is usually made around five thirty. My mom always makes more than intended for the actual meal, incase we have any unexpected guests. More than likely it’s Michael.
After being emancipated a year ago, it was hard for him to maintain his own money, so he’d pay the bills, but that left little to be saved. He comes over for dinner five nights a week, plus he gets all you can eat in the Crashdown…considering he’s the cook.
His biological father had been abusive to him in the early stages of his life. His mother had called social services, on her husband, hoping to protect Michael. It tragically resulted in his mother’s death and his father getting sent to jail. He was thrown from foster home to foster home, but no one seemed to care about him. Eventually, he’d had enough and with my convincing, he became an emancipated minor.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replies.
I climb in through the window of my bedroom. After my feet touch the floor I move around my room, starting to tidy things up. There’s really not much to clean, considering my room is pretty spotless as it is, except for that mess at the desk. I move over to the desk and start to clean up the papers, throwing old ones out and making a stack for those I should save; another nervous habit of mine.
My overly happy mother comes into the room, breaking me from my cleaning exercise, “Ready for dinner?”
I glance at her and follow her to the table, Michael following me in close pursuit. We take our usual seats at the table. My mom lays the food in the center of the table and we all grab something, passing it clockwise around the table.
“So, what’s new?” My mother asks. It makes me queasy and I’m almost too sick to eat. Now, I said almost.
Michael glances in my direction, silently asking if I wanted to say anything yet. I look down at my plate. Grabbing my fork, I pick at my food. Not tasting it immediately, just sifting through the various grub.
“Michael, aren’t you seeing that sweet waitress, Maria?” My mom asks. Suddenly the pressure feels like it’s been lifted off of me. Though, I am curious as to what’s going on between the two, so I look at Michael.
“No. She’s repulsive, and cheery, and a gossip, and…”
A laugh erupts from my lips as I look at him. Michael actually likes her, odd way of showing it, right? I’m not the only one who notices, though.
“That’s so cute,” my mother says, smiling.
We finish our meal, mostly teasing Michael about how much he likes Maria in between bites of food. When we’re finished, we sit there, as usual, while my mom cleans the table off.
“Dad. Mom. There’s something I need to tell you guys,” I say seriously, my attention shifting between the two of them. “I’m pregnant.”
My mom is halfway to the dishwasher when she drops the plates in her hands. Not exactly the reaction I was expecting. My dad looks at me as if I’m a whore and not his own daughter.
“What the HELL do you mean you’re pregnant,” he screams, his glare menacing. “Who’s the father?” His voice is demanding.
I open my mouth to answer, when Michael cuts in. “I am.”
Did he just say? Oh my god, I can’t live a lie. This is getting worse by the minute. Then again, no one really knows my father better than Michael. My father has always treated him like the son he never had. So maybe this will lift the pressure off of me a little bit, right?
“I want the two of you to get married. It’s repulsive to think that my own daughter would have sex out of wedlock. Even you Michael have surprised me,” my father says glaring at him. I can’t let this happen. I won’t get married to my best friend, who’s acted like my brother. It’d be like incest!
“Liz, I think it’s in your best interest to put the baby first,” he says harshly.
“No, listen!” I scream, growing more impatient by the second. “I’m not pregnant with Michael’s child. I don’t even know the father’s name, but I am pregnant. I’m sorry I’m such a disgrace to the family.” With that I bring my head into my hands and let the tears fall silently. I attempt to not make a noise; it would give my father the satisfaction of bringing me down.
“Liz, I wash my hands of you, you’re no longer my daughter. I want you out of this house by morning,” he says. My father just disowned me. Standing up from my seat at the table, I walk to my room, Michael following me.
“Liz, come live with me. He’s an ass for saying all that shit, trust me, you’ll be much better off at my place,” Michael says comfortingly.
I nod and go to my closet. I pull out the suitcase from the top shelf and start loading my clothing. Michael goes out to the living room, my mother and father talk to him, but I don’t hear him respond. He returns with some moving boxes and starts to help me pack. I’m now an orphan, just like my best friend.
|posted on 26-Aug-2002 11:50:14 PM by Eerie|
|thank you EVERYONE for the bumps. I really appreciate them and I'm sorry for MIA. With work and trying to finish up one of my others stories and school coming up (I have 4 weighted classes) I don't know when I'll update again. I seem to have more inspiration when I go to school, but we'll see. I just want to be down to writing one fic . . this one, because I love it so much. I want to finish off all of my other stories, but I dont foresee that happening. I hope I haven't scared any readears away by my MIA status. Just thought I'd let you know I am alive and I do plan on writing more of this.|
|posted on 8-Dec-2002 6:21:04 PM by Eerie|
|Yay, I finished the next part, alls I have to do now is wait for my beta. Thanks to all of those who have stayed interested in this story, despite the months it took to complete the next chapter. Lol, it seems like August was just yesterday and I just posted my last chapter a week ago. Life has been really hectic, I'm grateful to all those who have stayed with me.|
|posted on 8-Dec-2002 9:40:01 PM by Eerie|
The move to Michael’s had been a temporary one and most of my stuff stayed in boxes because I knew in a month we'll be moving again. I went through the morning sickness cycle and after a while my body adjusted to the circumstances. We talked to the manager about moving out a week before the big move.
This second move would be to Los Angeles. I was going to take the easy road. There was no way I’d financially be ok having to support a child and tuition at Harvard, my dream school. By going to UCLA I was taking the easy road.
Michael showed me the apartment we’d be staying in. It was a simple two bedroom apartment with a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom. It wasn’t the Hilton, but we had a roof over our heads and that’s all that mattered. Stepping into the apartment, I placed a hand over my stomach. In over a year the little rascal would be running around this apartment, most likely making a mess with toys.
It’s still hard to grasp that I, Liz Parker, was going to be a mother. I didn’t even know if I was ready for motherhood. Sure, I would baby-sit occasionally for neighbors, but that was a part of a part time job.
I know that stress wouldn’t be easy for the fetus inside of me; I took a deep breath and released all the worry from my system. The last thing I needed in my new life is for the baby to be injured in some sort of way.
Michael, being the obnoxious gentleman he is, brought in both of our bags and some of our boxes. Sometime in the next 24 hours the truck with the rest of our stuff was supposed to arrive.
“I’m going to go buy a paper, then we can look at jobs together,” Michael said.
“Another job with you? However will I survive?” I responded sarcastically. We shared a laugh and he went outside to get one. Considering there was a stack of boxes piling up in the middle of the living room, I started to lift them to their appropriate rooms. Considering none of the furniture was here yet, I couldn’t really set up the odd things in the boxes, but if I put them in the appropriate rooms at least it didn’t look so cluttered in the living room.
As I was lifting the last box to go into the kitchen, Michael walked in. He must have had a panic attack because he rushed to me, dropping the newspaper in the process.
“Liz! Why are you lifting these boxes? Are you all right? Is Junior. all right?” Michael asked, fear splattered all over his face. I couldn’t help the giggle that spurted between my slightly parted lips.
“Michael, I’m pregnant, not an invalid. I’m perfectly capable of lifting boxes. Last time I checked women didn’t lose their babies for lifting heavy objects. And another thing, the baby isn’t going to be named Jr. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done, but a kid with the name Michael.” I can’t help but laugh at the comment. Michael’s face is in awe and I find it quite hilarious.
”So, what jobs are available?” I ask, carefully opening the box with a few necessities for the kitchen: paper plates, plastic silverware, and some cans of food to get us started off. We had no clue when the truck with our stuff would be here. The company told us 2-3 days. Michael had first commented asking if it was Fed-Ex for larger items. In fact, he was outraged, of course he didn’t want any of his items being stolen, but the company claimed they had other customers to deliver to and only a few drivers.
Michael walked back to where he dropped the newspaper. After picking it up he walked into the kitchen and sat on top of the countertop. He opened the newspaper and started searching while I put the necessities away. When I finished, which was pretty quickly, considering there was barely anything to put away, I sat next to Michael on the countertop looking over his shoulder.
“This one looks good. They’re looking for waiters. You know, waiters and waitresses make good cash,” Michael said. “It’s at some ritzy restaurant.”
“Is it located near campus?” I asked. I most definitely did not want to be going to work after class if it was 5 miles away.
“No. Hmm, well, there’s a coffee shop that seems to be hiring. Just so happens it’s near campus for you.” Michael continued to look at the newspaper as I hopped off the counter.
“Sounds good. Where’s it located?”
“About 3 blocks from here. I’ll go with you and apply,” Michael says, following my lead. Taking the newspaper, he rolled it up and stuffed it into his back pocket. Michael happens to be a direction guru. He can look at any address and tell you exactly where it is with one look at a map.
I remember when we were kids. Of course I’d be the one to always get us lost, but Michael could retrace our steps exactly and take us back to where we were. Like when we’d go camping and we wanted to go on a woodsy adventure. I was so confident I knew where we were going, that I’d lead the way. Of course then I’d always get us lost. Those were the carefree days…when my parents actually cared about being in my life.
I squeeze my eyes shut knowing that if I keep thinking about the situation I’ll cry. I really don’t want to put Michael in that awkward position, especially when we’re turning over a new leaf.
In the meantime, I’ve slowed down enough to let Michael take the lead. Before I know it, we’re at the coffee house. The place is crammed with people of all ages and ethnicities. It stirs something inside of me, making me excited to be attending UCLA. The building is designed architecturally. The windows go from floor to ceiling and there was even a section in the coffee house for poet or other local artists. From the windows you could see the front of UCLA. My heart raced. This is where I’d be going to school. Sure, it was no Harvard, but I could live with that.
Before we knew it we were at the front of the line. Michael spoke first, “May we speak to the manager? We heard there were some openings and we’re interested.”
“Jake!” the worker yelled, startling me. I hadn’t expected the person to act so rudely. To be perfectly honest I thought the girl was going to walk into the back room and get the manager. The manager emerged walking to us. “They are interested in job applications.”
The manager pulled out two forms and two pens. “Take a seat and fill these out and then we’ll have an impromptu interview.”
Michael grabbed the items while we walked to one of the window seats. The scenery was beautiful: palm trees and the sun shining brightly. To be completely honest I couldn’t wait for a visit to the beach, at least while I still had this body. In a few more months I’d be peaking. I filled out the information quickly and with ease. I walked back to where the manager was waiting and gave him the information and he took me into the back for the interview. The whole event went by in a blur and before I knew it I was finished. I left the interview room and Michael entered.
In the meantime I bought a cappuccino and sat at another window seat. I stared out of the window and thought about where that stranger was and what he was doing right now. I didn’t know one person could ever captivate my heart as much as he did. In fact he had captivated more than my heart. My body was urging for his touch and my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of that night. I don’t want to let myself down thinking about him being such a saint, when in reality he could be just another horny guy. My eyes cloud with tears. Looks like pregnancy hormones have already got me by the neck.
“Excuse me, are you ok?”
I look up and see a tall, skinny, dark haired guy. He looks to be my age. “I…I’ll be ok,” I respond, stifling the tears that are so clearly ready to fall from my already red eyes.
“The name’s Whitman, Alex Whitman, at your service milady.”
I smile. This boy has this cute innocence. He seems like the type I could easily become friends with. “Thanks, why don’t you sit down,” I say waving at the seat across from me. “Sorry about the tears, I’m just a bit emotional.” I wipe away the remainder of my tears as Alex sits down across from me.
“So, are you going to UCLA too?” He asks. His eyes tell me that he’s genuine and obviously one of those guys that will stick with you to the very end. I knew a guy like that: Michael. Any guy that could remind me of Michael was definitely worth befriending.
“Yeah, I plan on majoring in molecular biology. I’m a new student, how about you?” I ask.
“Well, I’m a computer science major. It’s always nice to speak to some decent freshmen. I’m a sophomore and I remember last year. I was so nervous. It didn’t help that I was a nerd. I had glasses, the tight pants and suspenders.” Alex smiled and I giggled in response.
“You really had suspenders?” I asked.
“No, but I thought it would add to the effect of how much of a nerd I was.” Alex laughed. He glanced at his watch and spoke again, “Well, I have to get going now, my girlfriend is supposed to be meeting me on campus in five minutes. It was nice meeting you…hey, what’s your name? Maybe I’ll run into you on campus sometime.”
“My name is Liz, Liz Parker.” We laugh, knowing that I mocked his whole ‘entrance’ as one might call it. Alex bids me farewell and leaves me to my thoughts, which are soon interrupted by Michael.
“Who was that guy? Was he bothering you? Do you need me to kick his ass?” Michael’s overprotective brother act gets old so easily. I love him despite it, though.
“He’s a really nice guy with a girlfriend, if you must know, Michael,” I respond. Michael looks a bit taken back, like he was expecting a guy that would harass me and act like he was only there to get in my pants. In fact, it was the exact opposite.
“Oh. Well, the manager told me that we’re both hired and we start tomorrow. We’re required to wear khaki pants and a black shirt,” Michael says, attempting to take the spotlight off of his stupid comments. Truthfully, I didn’t care one way or another, because now I have a job. I’d be saving up every penny of my job just for this baby growing inside of me. Thank God for this scholarship. I don’t think I’d survive without it.
|posted on 8-Dec-2002 9:41:26 PM by Eerie|
|sorry ria, I didnt know if you were still alive cuz you mentioned in the summer you'd be having to attend college classes. I'll remember to send you parts now ;)|
|posted on 17-Feb-2003 12:01:52 PM by Eerie|
|Thanks for all the bumps. For now, I won't be able to write for a bit, I took a sick day off today and I'm pretty sure there was lots of homework at school today. Next weekend I'm going on a campus visit to Eau Claire, so I won't be at the computer, and the following week, my english essay is due. Once life seems to calm down, I'll write for you guys...about a week ago I did brainstorming, so I'm pretty sure of what I want to happen next...its just a point that I sit on my butt and start typing. That is when I get time. If you ever need to see my schedule, just check out Serenity in my signature...it contains a calendar which says basically my whole schedule. Once again, thanks for all the bumps, it's sooooo greatly appreciated :D|