Page 8 of Friar
“I’m pregnant.”The words fell from my lips like stones, heavy and irreversible.Once spoken, they seemed to hang in the air between us, more real than they had been even after seeing those two pink lines this morning.
Madison’s mug froze halfway to her mouth.Her eyes widened, coffee forgotten as she stared at me.“Holy shit,” she whispered finally, setting her mug down with a clunk.“Are you sure?”
I nodded, unable to speak past the lump in my throat.
“Fuck,” she breathed, running a hand through her hair.“From that night?At the club?”
Another nod.My eyes burned with unshed tears.
Madison reached across the table, her smaller hand covering mine, squeezing tight.The gesture broke something in me, and tears spilled down my cheeks despite my efforts to hold them back.
“Hey,” she said softly, her usual sharp edges softening.“We’ll figure this out, okay?You’re not alone in this.”
I wiped at my face with my free hand, embarrassed by the public display of emotion.“I don’t know what to do, Madison.I’m so scared.”
“I know.”She squeezed my hand again, then sat back, her practical nature taking over.
“And you’re absolutely sure?Those tests can be wrong sometimes.”
“I took three.All positive.”I’d gone back to the store this afternoon when Aunt June went to Bible study, bought two more tests with cash, then taken them in the gas station bathroom.Three identical results, no room for doubt.
Madison’s eyes narrowed with her next thought.“Do you know which one of them…?”
I shook my head, heat rising to my cheeks.“It could be any of them.Friar, Nugget, or Nigel.I don’t… I don’t remember everything.”The admission made the shame burn hotter.Not just pregnant but not even knowing who the father was.
“Jesus,” Madison muttered.Then, seeing my wince at the name, “Sorry.It’s just… this is serious shit, Cheri.Your uncle will throw you out if he finds out.”
The truth of her words hit me like a physical blow.“I know.”Uncle Pete’s voice echoed in my head from countless Sunday dinners, railing against the sins of the flesh, the punishment for fornication, the special place in hell for girls who “gave it away” before marriage.
“And those bikers…” Madison hesitated, choosing her words carefully.“They aren’t exactly the family-man type.Not like they’re going to step up and make honest women out of their one-night stands.”
I flinched at the term, though I couldn’t deny its accuracy.One night had been all it took to derail my entire life.“I haven’t thought about telling them yet.”
Although, I couldn’t necessarily agree with her about them not being family men.I’d seen a few around town with their kids.
“Would you even want to?”she asked, her blue eyes searching my face.“I mean, if one of them offered to… I don’t know, help or whatever, would you want that kind of life?Being a biker’s old lady, raising a kid in that world?”
The question caught me off guard.I hadn’t thought that far ahead.Hadn’t imagined any scenario beyond the immediate terror of discovery.“I don’t know,” I admitted.“I just found out this morning.I haven’t… I can’t think straight yet.”
Madison nodded, taking a long sip of her coffee.When she set the mug down, her expression was serious.“You have options, you know.You don’t have to have it.”
The word she didn’t say hung between us.Abortion.Another sin to add to my growing list, according to Uncle Pete.According to the God I’d been raised to fear and obey.My hand drifted unconsciously to my stomach.
“I don’t know if I could do that,” I whispered.
“Okay,” Madison said, not pushing.“What about adoption?”
“And hide a pregnancy for nine months in Uncle Pete’s house?He’d notice pretty quick when I start showing.”
“You could stay with me and Gran,” Madison offered immediately.“She wouldn’t ask questions.You know she’s cool.”
I smiled faintly at that.Madison’s grandmother was indeed “cool” -- a former hippie with liberal views who let Madison dye her hair black and didn’t enforce curfews.But even she might draw the line at harboring a pregnant girl for months on end.And honestly, I might technically be an adult, but I couldn’t call myself a woman right now.I’d done something childish, rebelled, and look where it had gotten me.
“I need to think,” I said, pushing my untouched coffee away.“I need to figure out what I’m going to do before anything else.”
“Time’s not exactly on your side here, Cheri,” Madison reminded me gently.“You’re already six weeks along.The longer you wait --”
“I know.”I cut her off, not ready to hear the rest.“I just need a few days to process.To come up with a plan.”
