Kwame and Annette III

Annette

I woke up. It was morning I had no idea when tears had given way to sleep. My roommate was in bed. I wondered what time she had come back to the room last night. She was a bit off a slut; she probably hadn’t come back till dawn. “She’s the slut, a little ‘judgey’ for a pregnant lady, no?” my subconscious taunted me. I took a bath, grabbed the evidence from my locker and went off to confront my yellow livered boyfriend or rather to confess and stop him from spirally into a drunken depression.

I knocked on his door, got no reply so I banged until I heard a groggy “I’m coming” issued from the bowels of the room. The door opened. His roommate, Eric, peered at me through half closed lids. “Is Kwame up?” I asked. He stepped back, letting me into the room, my boyfriend’s bed was neatly laid, like no one had slept in it, but right beside Eric’s bed, lay a very familiar bra. “Well that solves the mystery of where slutty Ginny spent the night” I muttered, recognising it as my roommate’s. “Huh?” Eric asked, confused and still drowsy. “Just asking if you have any idea where Kwame is?” I asked quickly. “Err he didn’t come at all last night, I would know, I just went to bed like ... an hour ago” he said glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. I left him to return to bed, he needed the rest. I knew the workout my roommate could put a guy through. I had faked sleep through enough of her marathon sex sessions. What kind of God made girls like me pregnant, whilst girls like my roommate got away with only a frequently recurring UTI? “Well God didn’t make you pregnant, the boy you slept with did, and so you are not exactly innocent” my ever present conscience reminded me.

I tried calling his cell phone but the annoying voice kept telling me “The subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable.  The phone is either switched off or out of coverage area.” I started to panic as I tried to reach him over and over again but got only the pre-recorded message. I went downstairs and saw a lone figure sitting in the middle of the hostel’s car park. I recognised Kwame’s red shirt. As I walked closer, he heard my footsteps and turned towards me. I saw his face, the anguish and confusion drawn on it, aging him dramatically, and I knew if I told him the truth it would only get worse. Nothing good would come of it. I had already abandoned my principles in so many other ways; I might as well do it one more time to spare him further pain. I could not do this to him, I loved him.

Kwame

I spent the night on the car park crouching on the ground; hunched over beside my car. The car I had bought with my own hard earned money. Money earned by working my fingers to the bone three summers in a row in England. The car I would probably have to sell to buy baby food and diapers. My dad would kill me. I would not be able to stand the look of disappointment on my mother’s face.

I slept off, driven by exhaustion and all the booze I had consumed. Woke up on the car park, wet from the morning dew and resolved to handle the situation like the man I had always wanted to be would. So I sat in the car park thinking about what to say to her, how to reassure her that I would be there for her. I heard footsteps, I looked up and saw her walking towards me; a look of determination on her face.

“Did you spend the night here?” she inquired softly in a voice tinged with concern. “Yea” I said, brushing aside her concern; I launched into the speech that had been brewing in my brain before I lost my nerve “I just want you to know that I’m sorry I wasn’t there for last night, my behaviour last night is not how I want to handle this...thing” “Thing!” she interjected incredulously, “No, no, not thing, err...situation. I’m going to be there for you. Whatever you decide, I will stand by you, and in fact I want to be there when you break it to your mum and sister, I love you and...” “I’m not pregnant” she blurted out.

“What!” I asked mouth gaping open like an idiot. “I am not pregnant” she repeated slowly, smiling slightly. “But saw you, heard you crying, you were upset!” I sputtered. “That was after the first test; got a false positive but the next two were negative.” “I will confirm at the hospital this weekend when I go home for Addie’s birthday, but I’m pretty sure it was just a scare so relax” she continued calmly as I stared at her stupefied. I felt relief course through me releasing me from my temporary shock-induced paralysis. I grabbed her and swung her round yelling out loud, all the time thinking “Yes! I don’t have to sell my car for diaper and baby food money!”

I put her down finally. She bent picked up a plastic bag “What’s that” I asked, “just trash” she replied with a quick smile. As we walked into the hostel hand in hand, she dropped the bag into the bin right by the staircase.

To be continued...