"Oh God." You murmured under your breath. You held the ominous pregnancy test in your sweaty hands, praying silently that it was inaccurate.
You tried shaking the plastic stick to get no results, much to your dismay. "No this can't be, it was just one night. Right?" The positive sign just stared back at you.
Your thoughts were interrupted by an abrupt knocking at the bathroom door. You rashly rolled up the test in toilet paper in threw it in the trash. You then adjusted yourself to be considered presentable and opened the door. Your best friend, Liza, was standing in the doorway with both hands on her hips.
"What happened to you in there? Did you fall in or something?" Her thick accent tainted her voice. She looked at you with expectant green irises. "Helló(1)? Earth to (Name)! Are you there?"
"Oh Liza!" You faltered as you snapped back to reality, pushing the unexpected surprise to back of your mind. "What are you doing here?"
"You're not answering any of your text messages! Anyways, we were going to go shopping with Roddy and his friends, remember? I know you've been feeling ill lately, but I don't want to be left there alone with Gilbert!" She emphasized the last part of her explanation. Her eyes suddenly were full of concern at your lack of response. "Are you still ill? I can manage by myself if you're still feeling sick, honestly."
A feeling of nausea flushed through you as you were about to respond. You immediately resorted to the nearby toilet and emptied your insides into it. Liza then rushed to your side and pulled your tangled hair away from your face. When you finished, you flushed the repulsive remains down with the toilet water.
"Okay, you are definitely not going now." Liza stood up, pushing her luscious brown locks behind her ear. "I am not allowing you."
"Liza..," You whimpered, washing your hands in the process. "I feel much better. The breakfast I had earlier must of been spoiled. May I go, please?" You were literally begging now.
She looked at you questioningly. "Are you positive you're feeling better?"
You cringed at the word 'positive'. "Yes, I'm sure."
Liza sighed in defeat. "Ugh fine, you can go. But if you puke in one of the stores you are walking home! Before we go though, you need to fix up!"
You waved goodbye to Liza as she closed the door to your apartment. You locked the door and stood there. When you were positive she was gone, you ran to your bedroom and slammed the door shut.
"Holy shit." You murmured, plopping onto your bed. Your old mattress creaked beneath you as you let out a sigh. You walked around the mall all day with Liza, and your legs felt as if they were about to fall off. You had to tell him, the father of your baby.
The father of your baby was none other than the notorious football player, Matthias Křhler. He was always with his clique of friends, and he was known as "The King". It had happened that one despicable night, at one his fellow teammate Ludwig's party. You tried your hardest to remember what happened.
You clumsily entered the German styled home, oblivious on what to do. Liza had advised you to act natural and have fun, but you knew that was never going to happen. There was beer and other liquor surrounding you, and people from your school and other schools were dancing all around you. You weren't shocked to see girls pinned up to walls as boys sucked on their faces. You shuffled around uncomfortably as you were looking for Liza. She was no where to be seen.
You were about to go for some water when Matthias and his group approached you. Matthias reeked of alcohol, and his buddies oogled at you like you were a rare animal.
"Hey." He whispered in your ear. "I saw you cheering at my last game, and may I say you looked so hot with your skirt fluttering up and down."
"Get away from me you disgusting pervert!" You hissed back. "You're drunk, go home!"
A chorus of ooo's erupted from his entourage. You blushed slightly from their mockery.
"Fiesty tonight, aren't we? I've always liked girls like you; hot and resistant." He
placed an arm around your waist. "How about we see how feisty you are in the bedroom?"
You grimaced at the scent of beer that drifted from his mouth. "How about no."
His grip tightened as he pulled you closer. "Come on, I insist. Drink a little, it'll be fine. Nothing could happen." He began dragging you through the crowd. You wanted to scream, but his teammates were swarming around you like a flock of bees. You wanted to retaliate, but you utterly failed.
That was when he took your innocence from you.
You snapped back to reality when you felt the hot tears stream down your face. You had to tell him, whether it be in person or not.
You reached for your bag and retrieved your phone. You began searched through your list of names to find the dreaded Danish one. Somehow, he had gotten a hold of your phone and listed his number in it. Once you found the name, your heart skipped a beat. You hesitated to click his number, but you mustered up the courage and finally clicked it.
You waited impatiently as dial tone rang back at you. He finally picked up and began to act like nothing even happened.
"What." He snidely remarked, obviously not wanting to talk with you.
"I'm not here to have a sunshine-filled conversation with you. I need to tell you something."
"If it's about the game, I didn't mean to throw the ball at you. It wasn't on purpose." He almost barked back. You cringed a bit at his harshness.
"I'm.." You stopped mid-sentence. Could you tell him? How would he react? You were so nervous. "I'm.. I'm pregnant."
You heard a hard collision with the floor, and a voice you somewhat recognized apologized. Then you heard absolutely nothing.
You just placed on your phone on your night table, threw your jeans into the corner of your room and went to sleep.