Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 159(@200wpm)___ 127(@250wpm)___ 106(@300wpm)
“How are you?” I try again with a determined smile. But I immediately regret the question because what will Angela say? Mom’s bony shoulders are the only thing I see as she fills the water container for the coffee machine at the sink. One of the straps of her cheap nightgown hangs down her arm and her graying hair is like a stiff mop on her shoulders. Shit. I can tell she’s been drinking.
Finally, however, Angela answers. Once the coffee machine’s started, she turns to look at me, bracing her hands on the counter in back of her.
“I’m tired,” she replies in a flat voice. “As usual.” She leans against the linoleum, smoking her cigarette again, as her eyes slide to my bags, still untouched, by the kitchen door. To be honest, Angela looks worse than tired. She looks tired of life, period. How is it possible that she’s only thirty-seven because she looks at least ten years older given the deep brackets around her nose and mouth, not to mention the fine lines around her eyes.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I reply in a soft voice. “Um, so I know this isn’t a great time, but I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Angela nods and takes another long drag, her eyes calculating.
“About what?”
“Well, it’s about whether I can stay this summer,” I say in a hesitant tone. My mom takes another long drag of her ciggie before letting out the smoke in a thin stream.
“What about it?” she asks, the coffee dripping hotly behind her. “I told you that you could visit for a few months, didn’t I?” Oh good. My heart races as I nod because it means that she remembers our agreement. This gives me hope.
“Yes,” I nod, my heart quickening. “But that was before I found out about something.”
Mom shoots me a calculating look.
“About what?” she asks. “I swear, Ellen, out with it because I don’t have all day. What’s on your mind?”
I swallow hard because this is the moment of truth. I make to talk, but my throat closes up on its own and suddenly I can’t get out a word. My mom merely shrugs, turning back to the coffee pot again.
“If you can’t speak, then I’m going back to bed,” she says in a dismissive tone. “You can tell me later in the week.”
That galvanizes me to action.
“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out. Immediately, Angela whirls around, her blue eyes like burning orbs of fire. The cigarette carries on smoldering between her fingers, small flecks of ash dropping to the floor. Meanwhile, the sound of the coffee machine is no longer a drip-drip, but rather a steady, steaming pour.
“I’m sorry?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.
I take another deep breath.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeat. Angela nods, inhaling once more.
“So who's the father?” she asks. Of course, my mom doesn’t congratulate me. She doesn’t even have the decency to pretend that this is a positive development, and any flicker of hope I had that she might be happy for me is snuffed out for good. But still, I have to be careful about how I handle this situation.
“I don’t know,” I say in a slow voice. “It just happened.”
Of course, that’s not exactly true because pregnancy doesn’t exactly just “happen” by itself. Yet the circumstances surrounding my pregnancy are particularly depraved, and I’m definitely not telling my mom (or anyone) how it went down. After all, I was a virgin when I left for college, with the usual hopes and dreams a young co-ed has about meeting “the right guy” and losing my virginity in a way that’d be utterly romantic and meaningful. But after realizing that no such Prince Charming exists, I finally allowed myself to just have fun.
As a result, during a late-night skinny-dipping session with a couple frat boys, I finally gave in. This wasn’t our first time at the pool together, so the guys had been egging me on for ages. In fact, my friend Kimber was already going at it hard with one of the brothers at the other end of the pool, so I finally relented.
Giggling with shyness, I took off my clothes and exposed the curves of the body I had always been ashamed of. Of course, the men were on me immediately. They couldn’t keep their eyes off my heavy breasts, the softness of my belly, nor the swell of my ass. I gave myself to a guy in the corner by the diving boards, who came hard inside me within seconds, and then hungry for more, I had sex with another guy. And another. And another. We had so much fun that night, and to be honest, I couldn’t get enough male cock. Does that make me a slut? Maybe, but I’m not going to apologize for it.