Pregnant For My Bully

Amelia Forbes

I was soon to attend my first ever high school party, only for the sole reason of Jason inviting me himself. Handing me a flyer yesterday. And for him apologizing too, I guess.

It was Friday night, the time set for the party, and I was starting to regret taking Jason’s flyer. Agreeing to attend his party. I was getting cold feet, and I had my reasons.

For one, although I’d accepted Jason’s apology and had forgiven him, even when I didn’t want to, even when I knew an apology couldn’t just erase everything he’d done to me, I still had this gut feeling that it wasn’t genuine, his repentance. For some reason, I still felt it was all an act. Now, I wasn’t one to act on my gut feelings, trust them, because, sometimes, they’d let me down, so, as much as I didn’t want to, I ignored them.

Secondly, I was getting cold feet because I wasn’t used to parties, and I had absolutely no idea what to wear. I had a lot of dresses. So many. Short, long, extra short, tight, loose, flay, I had them all, with very few pants and jeans. And I didn’t really think wearing a dress to a high-school party was advisable. It was okay, actually. Many people wear dresses to parties, I just didn’t want to, so I settled for my jean jumpsuit from middle school. It was still presentable, in the least, faded a bit, but just the right size to make me look cute-for some reason, I was also interested in looking good. And blending in.

Now that I thought about it, I realized the reason why. Jason was the one taking me to his party. Believe it or not, he said he’d be picking me up and taking me to his house, where the party was set to hold, since I didn’t know the way around, or his place. To this arrangement, I’d agreed, despite my last encounter in his car.

On remembering the encounter, I clutched the jumpsuit tightly in my hands and plopped back on the bed behind me.

“Ugh,” I groaned into the jumpsuit. “What was I thinking? This is bad. This is really, really bad. I shouldn’t have agreed to this.”Content from NôvelDr(a)ma.Org.

I guess it was the way he’d told me. Not forcefully. Not authoritatively. Just a simple question. “Do you want me to pick you up since, um, you’ve never been to my place before?”

And just like that, I said yes. No hesitations. No second thoughts. I guess I was still not used to Jason being polite. To anyone, me most of all.

Maybe I should call him, I thought. Tell him I feel sick or something. Just make up something, a reason to not go to his party. Yeah, that’s what I should do.

I reached for my phone lying a few inches from me on the bed. Going to my call log, I browsed through until I found his name.

Jason.

He’d given me his number yesterday at school, so that was pretty much how I had it in my phone. It felt surreal, seeing his name on my phone. Having his number. . . I still couldn’t grasp the idea.

Just as I made to tap the call symbol, the phone buzzed in my palm. Speak of the devil. It was Jason.

Ignoring the sudden dryness in my throat, I answered the call at once.

“Hey, Mel, what’s up? You good? Only fifteen minutes till I gotta come pick you up,” he rapped, as soon as I put the phone to my ear.

Jason using my nickname, Mel, still felt knew to me. But nice. New but nice. Sweet. I like the way it sounded when he said it. Mel.

I blinked. Where had that thought come from?

“Hey, you still there?” His voice came back to me, pulling me away from my odd thoughts.

“Yeah,” I blurted out. “Yeah, I still am.”

“So,” he drawled. “What you saying? You ready now? Or I wait the fifteen minutes before I pick you up?”

“Ah, no, I’m not yet ready,” I told him. “I still have some stuff to help my grandma out with.”

“In fifteen then?” He asked.

“Twenty?”

“Okay,” he exhaled. “Twenty it is.”

Shortly after, the line went dead.

Yes, I still had stuff to do for my grandma before I left, but I could do all that even under fifteen minutes. I only added an extra five minutes to the time to test Jason. See if he’d snap and blow his cover, if he was actually pretending, that is. But he didn’t even flinch. There had been nothing at all, just sheer accommodation. And if that didn’t convince me that Jason was being completely genuine, then I didn’t know what would.

Fifteen minutes later, I was all dressed up and had put grandma to bed, although I knew she wasn’t sleeping yet. She liked to stay up a little longer to sit by her window and knit, a habit of hers she’d had even when I was a little girl.

With the rest of my time, I did a little touch-up to my face, putting on some powder and glossy, clear lipstick. Very unlike me to care about my looks, at least to that extent, not that I didn’t care at all, but I guess Jason was already taking a toll on me. In a good way. And growing on me too. I could get used to his newfound gentleman personality.

He was two minutes late though. Trust me to check that. Not that I was upset or anything, but, apparently, my brain wanted to take note of what to rate his punctuality. It gave him a 98%, two points off for coming two minutes later.

I knew he’d arrived when I saw the headlights of his car momentarily wash over the house before going off. Then I literally began to get cold feet. And hands.

This was Jason Oliver Davenport, in my house, here to pick me up, in his car, for his party. How true was that? Honestly, if anyone had told me, prior to this time, that such a thing would happen, I’d never have believed. I’d have thought the person a fool, but here I was, living the very same thing I’d have abused someone for insinuating.

The doorbell dinged suddenly, almost ripping my heart from it’s cage in anxiety. I swallowed, staring at the door. On the old, welcome mat stood Jason. I was very sure that was the spot in which he stood. Most visitors did. I could almost envision him, standing at the door, dressed in something simple but hot anyway, his handsome face and smothering lips . . .

Smothering lips? Amelia, what the hell has gotten into you for crying out loud?! Get it together or I’ll do that for you! The reasonable side of me yelled. Since when did you develop an interest in Jason’s lips?

Just as the other, more unreasonable side was about to retort, the doorbell rang again. This time, I made no hesitations, heading straight for the door. I wrapped my hand around the cold, metal knob of the door and slowly pulled it open, the door creaking all the way. I didn’t bother about waking grandma up with the sound. She was deaf anyway.

As soon as there was room enough for me to step out, I did so, shutting the door behind me.

Standing not more than two inches from me was Jason, a casual smile across his lips, his sandy hair done in a different style from its infamous one-gelled up. This time, he’d gelled it slightly to the side, accentuating the new haircut he’d gotten. Jason looked hot. Breathtaking. Standing barely two inches from him, able to hear his breathing, feel it, looking straight into his brown eyes, all that did wonders on my emotions.

Quickly, to dissuade the unreasonable thoughts stirring up, I stepped back from Jason.

“Oh, sorry, my bad.” He stepped back too. “Didn’t mean to cause any . . . inconvenience.”

“No.” I shook my head at once. “No, you didn’t.”

At my words, he just shrugged.

“Shall we?” He said, holding out his hand.

I lowered my eyes to his hand before me, pale pink and two times bigger than mine. Did he mean for me to take it? Did Jason mean for me, Amelia, to put my hand in his?

Surprised and confused, I looked back up at Jason.

“Come on,” he urged me. “Take my hand. We’re already late.”

Jason did want me to hold his hand. Whoa.

Reaching out slowly, I wrapped my hand around his, which quickly enveloped mine in both its warmth and size. Turning around, he started down the steps. In a trancelike state, I followed in his wake, his hand still holding tightly onto mine.

Getting to his Audi, he unlocked the door of the passenger seat first and held the door open for me. If I was surprised about him wanting to hold my hand, I was shocked that he held the door open for me. Slowly, still in a trance, I got in and he closed the door, jogging over to the driver’s seat.

Moments later, we were driving down the paved, brightly lit street, headed for his party.

I sat still, as rigid as a rock. Not saying a word. Not doing a thing. In the silence of the car, all that could be heard was my breathing-very faintly-and the sound of him switching gears. That was how awkward the whole thing was.

“So,” Jason began all of a sudden, causing me to snap my gaze towards him. “You ever been to a high-school party before?”

While asking me, he cast a quick inquisitive glance my way. Despite how fleeting it was, I couldn’t help but feel like a neophyte under it.

“N-no,” I said, shaking my head.

“Okay.” He nodded before smiling. “Good thing you have me then, yeah?”

“I guess,” I muttered, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

“You look great, by the way,” he added as he took a turn. “I mean, for someone who’s never been to a party, you dressed just right. And I like what you did to your hair.”

What I did to my hair . . .

All I’d done was let it loose from it’s regular ponytail. But screw that. Did Jason just compliment me? I, Amelia Forbes, complimented by Jason Davenport. Oh boy. Oh boy.

“Thank you,” I said, still stunned.

“You’re welcome,” he nodded. “Trust me, you’re gonna love my party. There’s a pool if you wanna go skinny-dipping. There’s a game room, drinks and so much more. Aside from the game room, we’ll be playing common party games because what’s a party without them? So get ready!”

None of Jason’s words enthused me the way it did him. I wasn’t too keen on swimming, neither was I on gaming. And drinks? Hell, no. I’d never even had a taste of alcohol before. The games? I didn’t even know what to think about them, just that they’ll surely be freaky.

“You ever drank before?” Jason asked, casting me a sideways glance. “Or been in a truth or dare game before?”

Silently, I shook my head.

“Well, you’ll be doing so today!” He exclaimed. Seeing the expression on my face, he mellowed his voice. “If you want to, though. Totally your choice.”

I looked down at my hands, sitting on my laps. “Yeah, I guess.”

Some minutes later, Jason pulled into the curved driveway of a mansion that stood almost 30 feet tall and 10 feet wide. Not that I knew this for sure, I was no architect, but I could certainly say this house was huge. And magnificent with its numerous bright lights, that cast a glow on the pool and dolphin fountain before it, and gold plated pillars. It had this vintage look to it but with a slight touch of modernity.

And there were people. Lots of people whom I couldn’t realize, milling about on the outside, some already in the pool.

I began to get jittery hands and a thumping heart. There were so many people, I wasn’t used to this.

“You like what you see?” Jason asked, breaking into my thoughts.

Admittedly, his house was beautiful.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to cover up my nervousness. “Your house is amazing.”

He smiled. “Shall we then?”

I looked at him. “You mean the party?”

His smile growing wider, he said, “Of course. What else?”