Page 46 of Omega's Fire

“This will only escalate tensions,” I state bluntly, trying a different angle. “Cracking down on protesters often backfires. Just ignore them. They’ll grow up and go away.”

“We’ll manage the public relations aspects.” He says ignoring me. He moves toward the door, conversation clearly over in his mind. “Your job is to teach your classes and let the administration handle student discipline.”

He pauses, hand on the doorknob. “I’ve scheduled a press conference for tomorrow morning to announce our new security measures. Your presence would be... appreciated.”

It’s clearly not a request.

I nod. I’ve not agreed but it looks like I have. I’m no fan of protestors. I think half of them are idiots and the other half are even bigger idiots. There are better ways to get your message across, but I don’t like being used.

“Excellent.” His smile returns, satisfied.

The door closes behind him and I resist the urge to make a rude gesture at it. This is going to make things a lot more complicated. Damn the man.

Leo

My fingers hover over my keyboard. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times and it still isn’t right.

Mom,

I have news that I should probably share in person, but I don’t think that’s possible right now. I’m pregnant. The baby is due in January. The father is Nash Thorndike, but I intend to raise this child on my own. I’ve filed legal paperwork to protect my parental rights.

I’m not asking for anything. I just thought you should know before you find out another way.

-Leo

It’s cold, almost clinical. But what else can I say? My mother and I haven’t had a real conversation in years. She calls sometimes, sends money when she can hide it from him. I know she loves me, but she can’t be there for me. Not in any way that really matters.

I hit send before I can change my mind again. The message disappears with a soft whoosh sound that feels inadequate for such a life-altering announcement.

That’s one difficult conversation down. About fifty more to go.

I close my laptop and rub my eyes. The morning sickness has finally subsided, replaced by a bone-deep fatigue that neverquite leaves. My body doesn’t feel like my own anymore. My nipples are tender and my waistline is thickening. I’m still me, but a version of me that’s being slowly reshaped from the inside out.

A sharp knock at the door startles me. “Leo? You in there?” Meg’s voice carries through the thin wood.

I open the door to find her leaning against the frame, dark circles under her eyes suggesting she hasn’t slept much. Her expression is grim, her shoulders tense.

“I need to tell you something,” I say, deciding to just get it over with.

Meg’s eyebrows shoot up. “I know. I already heard.”

My heart drops to my stomach. “Who told you? I didn’t think anyone knew I was pregnant.”

The shock on Meg’s face is immediate and absolute. Her mouth drops open, her eyes widen, and she actually takes a step back.

“You’re WHAT?”

Oh shit. Not what she was talking about.

“I...wait, what did you hear?” I stammer, mind racing.

Meg shakes her head, staring at me like I’ve grown a second head. “You’re pregnant.”

“Yes. What was your news?” As obvious changes of topic goes, that’s a humdinger, but she opens her mouth then closes it again and lets me get away with it.

Finally, she says, “Not that.” She fumbles in her bag and pulls out a stack of papers, thrusting them toward me. “This.”

I take the papers, grateful for the momentary distraction. It’s a new university policy banning campus demonstrations and threatening expulsion for any student causing “disruption”.

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