Page 87 of Dare You to Run
“I didn’t have my birth control pills in Mississippi and we hada lotof unprotected sex. I haven’t had a period since,” I explain.
His eyes are distant and I see sweat begin to build on his forehead. I wait and wait for any type of response. The one I get was not one that made the list of what he may say. Because he doesn’t say anything.
Hendrix stands, his legs trembling, and holds onto the counter for support. Slowly, he spins around and walks out of the bathroom, my room and out of the house, the door slamming behind him.
My body slumps to the floor and I cry until the tears are dry and my mind is weak.
THIRTY-FIVE
I drovearound for over an hour, my thoughts running wild with shock and disbelief. It took a lot of scolding myself before realizing I needed to be a man and face my responsibilities. I had to get back to Dagen and be the support she needs right now. I remembered that this wasn’t something that was happening to just me. I may have been scared, but Dagen had to be terrified.
I made a second stop at the convenience store and hauled my ass back to Dagen’s house. I screeched to a stop in front of it and ran through the front door, not caring if anyone was on the other side.
When I walk into her room and see that she isn’t on her bed, I begin to panic. I rush to her bathroom and find her sleeping on the cold floor rolled into a ball. Squatting down, I lift her up into my arms and her eyes blink open. They’re swollen and red as is her face that laid on the hard surface.
“Hendrix?” Her voice is rough and scratchy.
“It’s me, little mouse.” I kiss her forehead and she lifts her weary arms around my neck. “I’m sorry. I freaked out a bit, but I’m here and I’m sorry.”
I take a seat on the closed lid of the toilet and adjust her in my arms.
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not Dagen. Don’t excuse my behavior. I’m almost thirty fucking years old, not a punk kid who runs when things get tough.”
Her body shakes with a soft cry. I hold her to me tighter and close my eyes.
“I bought you a test. Think you can wake up enough to take it?”
Her head lifts to meet mine and she nods. I stand up and set her on her feet, then pull the three different tests I bought.
“I didn’t know which was best,” I shrug and I’m rewarded with a small smile.
I open the boxes and together we read the instructions together. I kiss her cheek then leave her to take care of her business.
I sit on the bed, my hands knotted between my legs, and stare down at my feet while my thoughts spiral. What happens to us if she is pregnant? Will she move to Cattywump? She has school to finish so that isn’t an option. But I have the garage and the bar and my brothers. It’s just as difficult to pick up my life and move to Texas. So does that mean I won’t get to see Dagen? Our baby? Do we get married? Do I buy a cemetery plot since Vaughan will definitely kill me now?
The panic sets in just as the door opens and Dagen steps out with cautious steps.
“Well?” I ask.
“We have to wait for fifteen minutes.” I hold out my arm and she quickly tucks herself into my side. “What are we going to do if they’re positive?”
I sigh. “I don’t know, little mouse. I was just asking myself the same thing.”
We sit in silence for what feels like days when the timer on her phone finally chimes. She looks at me, crying once more, and I touch her face.
“We’ll figure it out,” I assure her, but she doesn’t seem convinced.
I take her hand in mine and guide her to the bathroom counter where three sticks lie, side by side. Together we look at the first one, and then the next and then the last one. I feel her body sag and catch her right before she hits the floor.
Positive. All three. Dagen is pregnant. And I’m going to be a dad.
“Holy fuck,” I say, more to myself than to her.
“I’m so sorry.” She buries her head in my chest.
“Shh. You have nothing to be sorry about. It takes two people to make a baby. This isn't all on you.”
