Too Young To Want Him

Ava couldn't sleep that night.

Whenever she shut her eyes, she continued to see the ugly face of her mom. Marriage was a sound that was still ringing in her ears, as if it were, a judge delivering a verdict. Her stomach turned, and her chest ached as though it was feeling so tight that she could not breathe.

Morning came too fast.

Marcus walked in, and she was at the kitchen table staring at a cup of tea that had already gone cold.

"Morning," he said gently.

Ava flinched when he said it. She sat up in a jerk and gave a small smile. "Morning."

Marcus paused. He gazed at her forehead in the same way as he did last night. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Yeah, a little," Ava lied.

He pushed a chair up and sat opposite her. "You still don't look okay."

"I said I was fine!" She said so fast as she wrapped her fingers around the mug, which was cold.

Marcus frowned. "Ava..."

She made a breath, attempting to prepare herself. This was it. She was forced to speak something that was believable. Something simple.

"I'm just stressed," she said. "School's been... a lot."

Marcus tilted his head. "School?"

Yeah, yeah, I said to myself. Exam papers, tests, piles and piles. I guess my body just reacted."

She experienced the guilt striking her.

Her throat closed up, and she would be afraid for a moment that she would choke at the lie. She stared at the table lest he remember that she was lying.

Marcus was quiet.

Ava, he said slowly, school stress does not normally cause one to look like a person is about to fall over.

She laughed nervously. "Well, I guess I'm just weak."

"That's not true," he said firmly.

She shrugged. "Maybe I'm just tired."

Marcus sat back in his chair. You see, you can speak to me, you know.

Her chest hurt.

"I know," she said softly. "But really, it's nothing."

Marcus did not immediately respond. He simply stared at her, his face a question that he was not asking.

Ok, ok, he said at length. "If you're sure."

"I am,"Ava said, but her voice shook.

He got on his feet and, as he left the kitchen, looked back. In case the stress becomes acute, promise that you will complain to someone.

She nodded fast. "I promise."

Another lie.

Marcus walked out of the kitchen, but the burden of his worry remained. When he had gone, Ava dropped her head into her hands.

"I am sorry," she said. To him, to herself, to the life inside her.

She had no time to take a breath of relief when her mom entered the room.

The heels of Patricia tap, tap, tapped.

"You're awake," Patricia said.

"Yeah, Mom."

Patricia looked at the tea that had not been drunk. "You didn't eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat," Patricia said. You no longer think about yourself alone.

Ava stiffened.

On the counter, Patricia picked up her phone. "I've made a call."

Ava's heart skipped. "A call?"

"Yeah." Patricia didn't look at her. "I called Mark."

The world tilted.

"You did what?" Ava rose so quickly it sounded as though her chair was scraping the floor.

Patricia swung around, her face composed and without expression. He has a right to be aware of what is expected of him.

"Mom, no!" Ava shook. "You can't just-"

"I can, and I did," Patricia said. Responsibility is required in this situation.

Ava's hands trembled. "You didn't even ask me."

Patricia said coldly, There's nothing to ask. "You're pregnant. He's the father. He'll do the right thing."

Ava found she was unable to breathe. "You don't know that."

Patricia's eyes narrowed. "What does that mean?"

"Nada," Ava said quickly. I only, it is all too fast.

"It is too late, Ava, it is too late," Patricia replied. "Mark is coming over today."

Ava's stomach dropped. "Today?"

"Yeah."

Ava shook her head, becoming panicked. "I'm not ready. I have not even spoken to him decently.

That was something you should have thought of before, Patricia said. I will not allow you to bring a bastard child into the world.

"I did not ask you to," Ava said.

Patricia's face hardened. "Lower your voice."

Ava closed her lips. Her heart beat was sore from pondering.

"When's he coming?" Ava asked quietly.

"This afternoon," Patricia replied. "And you'll be polite. You won't embarrass me."

Patricia walked out of the kitchen after giving her phone back to her. She seemed to have finished the conversation.

Ava stood there, frozen.

Mark.

She had not digested all this herself, and now here she had to encounter him. Explain. Lie. Convince.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

She looked down at the screen.

A message.

Mark: Your mother tells us that we have to speak.

Her breath caught.

The words were lost in the tears in her eyes.

She sat back into the chair and gazed at the message as though it would fade away in case of prolonged observation.

She heard herself mumbling something horrible in her heart.

This was not her only lie.

And it was soon to become a lot worse.