( Chapter 9 )

I'm trying to decide if there's something in between but for now....

Chapter 9

 

Caroline turned over, snuggling deeper into the pillows. Sleepily, she realized what had woken her so early. Rustling noises were coming from her bathroom.

     “Who’s in there?” she said crossly, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

     “It’s Brie. I need a tampon and Dinah was out so I thought I’d get one of yours,” replied a muffled voice. “But I’ve taken everything out from under the sink and I still can’t find any.”

     “Did you ever think about buying your own? Oh, and not going through other people’s stuff? Or is the concept of personal property to complex for your tiny brain?”

     “Wow.” Brie walked slowly out of the bathroom and headed for the hallway. “That was kind of harsh. I may not be as smart as you, with an English degree and all, and I’m sorry I went in your room without asking, but you don’t have to be so mean.”

     “Well, I guess y’all have taught me to be a real New Yorker,” Caroline retorted, but Brie was already gone. If I’ve become a bitch, she thought, it’s not my fault. I’m just following their example. But she ducked under the covers, remembering the hurt look in Brie’s eyes. Fine, she thought, must try to be nicer, even to roommates. Also, buy tampons. Can pick some up at Duane Reade. Wonder if they carry my kind? She tucked her patchy-furred stuffed rabbit more firmly under her chin. Will check tomorrow. Weird I don’t have any in stock. I know I didn’t bring any with me… Her eyes flew open. “Wait a freakin second,” she said out loud. “If I didn’t bring any with me and I haven’t bought any since I’ve been here…” She threw herself out of bed towards the desk, tripping over her jeans on the way.

     Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Where’s the calendar? Fuck.

     She opened the little pocket calendar to September, looking for little x marking the start of her last period. Ok, nothing this month, but maybe it’s just late, maybe last month was late and it’s throwing me off… She flipped back a month, scanning the weeks frantically. She turned back another page, almost tearing it. Fuck. There it was. The last x. In June.

     I haven’t had a period in three months, Caroline said, questioningly? Her voice quavered and then grew stronger as she yelled to her empty room, “How the hell did I not notice?” She sat down hard in the desk chair. “This has to be a mistake. It has to be. If it’s not…” she trailed off. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the wall, Caroline shook herself, “Ok, enough! There’s only one way to be sure and maybe I’ll find out this is all a big mistake.” Yeah, maybe I’m in menopause, she thought hopefully.

     This being the big City, there was a drugstore every block. Caroline passed the Duane Reade on her corner. I don’t need them looking at me funny next time I buy shampoo, she justified to herself. She passed the CVS on the next block and the Eckerd’s on the block after that. Maybe I’ll just walk around for a while, she thought, no need to rush this. And then I could throw myself down a flight of stairs. Shit. Not pausing to think herself out of it, Caroline threw herself in the doors of the next Duane Reade, almost getting smacked by the slow opening automatic doors.

     It didn’t take long to find the pregnancy tests; they were right next to the condoms. Caroline examined the shelves. Damn, these are expensive, she thought, and I have no idea which kind I want. Well, I don’t want any of them. But…oh, this one says ‘accurate as soon as five days after your missed period.’ That sounds good. I wonder how accurate it is three months after your missed period. She could feel the giggles coming and knew she wouldn’t be able to stop if she started. Light-headed, she leaned against the display for a second. “I’ll just get the cheapest one,” she decided, “then I can blame the result in shoddy workmanship.” Or on shoddy condoms, she added.

     The walk home didn’t take nearly as long as Caroline would’ve liked and soon she was back in her bathroom, reading the package directions. “Ok,” she muttered, “so basically, remove cap, pee on stick, wait three minutes. Why can’t they just say that?”

     After pacing and checking her watch for the tenth time, Caroline grabbed the box and changed “three minutes” to “an eternity.” “There,” she said, “truth in advertising.”  She dropped the box as her watch alarm dinged. Now just the truth, she thought. She picked the stick up slowly…come on, one line, one line. I promise I will never have sex again…

 

…

 

Crap.   

 

<lj-cut text="Chapter 3">

“Ah, another Star Wars fan,” he said. “How unexpected.”
Caroline looked at him over the table, planning a snappy reply. “Why, cause I’m a…” she stuttered, as his soft brown eyes met hers.
    “Girl?” he finished. “No, because I wasn’t sure there were any fellow nerds here. This crowd seems more like the Grey’s Anatomy/Jackass type.”
    “First, I’m not a nerd or a girl. Why would you start off a conversation with a woman,” she emphasized, “by accusing her of being a nerd?” Caroline had recovered from her stumble but was having trouble staying indignant as she watched him smile.
    “Because it’s a compliment in my book,” he answered.
    “Oh.” Caroline cursed her Irish blood, and felt the blush sweeping over her fair skin. She waited for him to say something about her skin matching her hair, as if he were the first to think of that line.
    “Let’s start over. My name’s Xander.”
    “Hey, nice to meet you.” Small talk was easy as long as she didn’t look at him. “I’m Caroline.” She looked at him. Brown eyes, brown hair, just an inch or two taller than she was. Just the right height for kissing. She gave herself a mental shake. Kissing? Where did that come from? “Wait, Xander, as in Buffy?”
    Xander chuckled. “See, I knew you had the heart of a geek under all that hotness.”
    “Um, I may have…” Caroline said distractedly, “a few action figures.” I may have a few action figures? What am I saying? That’s almost as bad as ‘I carried a watermelon.’
    “…so I have some original GI Joes, but I never got into any other action figure collecting. Do you like comic books too?” Xander paused. He’d lost her. Her eyes were glazing over because he didn’t have the sense to keep his mouth shut about his lame hobbies. Time to bail before things got worse and she actually fell asleep. “Ok, well, I need another beer. It was nice talking to you.”
    He turned and was swallowed up by the crowd around the keg before Caroline realized he was leaving.
    “Wait,” she called out, but the music was too loud. Hmm. Did I read him wrong? she thought. Whatever.  There are a lot of guys at this party, even a few I’ve never met. She paused. But, he was kind of cute, in a Lloyd Dobbler way. Ah, the perfect boyfriend. How many men around the world had been rejected because of the Lloyd Dobbler standard? But Caroline knew that was a myth. No man had ever stood in the rain with a boombox to win her or gone to Paris for her. And it was seriously unlikely that this man would either. Although, Caroline admitted to herself, her standards weren’t really that high. A boyfriend who wouldn’t cheat on her; that’s all she was looking for. Not that she was looking.
    “So, Caroline,” squealed a voice to her left, “what did you think of Xander?”
    “Oh, hey, Zoe, how’re you?”
    “Isn’t he a doll? Of course, he is way too young for you. A baby, really.”
    Caroline wasn’t sure if she should pull her hair over her forehead to hide the crows feet or push it back to hide the grey.
    Zoe nattered on, smiling a little too sweetly, “If you like I could introduce you to one of the men I work with. They’re all too old for me, but I know they’d love to meet a nice woman their age.”
    Wow, Caroline thought, that was a bit obvious even for Zoe. “Zoe, it is just so sweet of you to look out for me like that,” she sugared back. “You are such a good friend.” She held on to her smile as she added, “And I think you’re so brave and sensible not to worry about your hair. I should take a lesson from you and not think about how I look so much.”
    Zoe’s face fell as her hand went to her hair. Caroline felt a little bad when Zoe walked off without a word. But only a tiny bit bad, she thought. Zoe’s deserved that for a long time, and her hair could actually use some work, so it was for the best. Grabbing a jello shot off the counter, Caroline headed over to the pool table. She was pretty sure she’d seen some wide shoulders and brown hair over that way. Mmmm, red, my favorite.

 

Name: Charlotte Evans

Interests: mystery and romance novels, tourism, fat activism, fashion, parenting, Joss Whedon, Heroes, Torchwood, etc.

Romance Genre: um. what I'm writing? what I like to read? paranormal, regency, modern writers like Jennifer Crusie.

Tolerance for Beginners: Well, I'm a beginner, so I hope decent. Am happy to bat around ideas or look at construction issues.

Writing History: I have a number of ideas on paper and the first few chapters of a novel started. Am overwhelmed at the sheer number of words needed in a book--need to be on a writing schedule, with a set output, but could use some outside encouragement for that and someone to bounce things off of in the stuck places.

About Me: I'm a fat feminist living in the South East with my partner and our son who is almost 3.  I have an MA in English and taught comp and lit classes at the community college for a few years, but my concentration was in creative writing. Hopefully, I'll be starting an MA in library science this fall. *fingers crossed*

Would love any feedback on the story as whole or on any particular bits of it, including grammar, etc.