Free Dance For Me by Alice Dee Page B

rinsed her mouth, the water sweet against the bitterness on her tongue, and tiptoed to her bedroom. She closed the door behind her and dialed her work number from her cell phone. She felt better now but was going to call off anyway.
         She knew. She couldn’t explain how if she had to, but she knew what she knew. Tristan crawled into bed and pulled her blanket under her chin, staring blankly at the ceiling. She had been waiting for her period but it wasn’t coming and it was already going on month two. She should have been getting passed her second period by now.  Her nipples were sore and her stomach never felt settled. A wave of sickness swept her again but this time it was less physical; she felt sick because she knew exactly what was going on in her body.
          Tristan stayed in bed until eleven, getting up once she was sure her dad and Josephine were out of the house. She went downstairs and fixed herself some crackers and cheese, a glass of fruit juice and dialed Charla’s number. Charla answered after the third ring.
          “I need you to come over. Something’s wrong.”
           “Are you at home?”
           “Yes. I need you to come over.”
           “I can swing by after work.”
          “No, on your lunch.”
           “Are you all right?”
           “No I’m not.” Tristan dropped the butter knife she was holding and covered half of her face with her hand. She started sobbing which scared Charla.
           “I’ll be there in thirty minutes, okay? Just wait for me.”
           “Don’t lag!”
           Tristan hung up, stared at her car keys thrown on the tiled counter. She had to be sure. She grabbed them and her purse and got into her car, drove to the drugstore to buy a pregnancy test. When she got there, there were so many different brands she didn’t know which to choose. She grabbed the most expensive one and the cheapest, a Gatorade, quickly paid and bolted out of the store. She got home at 11:25, went into the downstairs bathroom and did her thing, anxiously waiting.
            Charla let herself in Tristan’s house, calling out her name. She found Tristan in the kitchen sitting at the table with a troubled expression on her face.
            “Sup girly?”
            Tristan had tears running down her cheeks and her eyes were red like she’d been crying for a while.
            “What’s wrong?”
            She held something out to Charla. Charla took the stick from Tristan’s hand.
            “Oh my Gawd, you’re-“
            “Don’t say it.”
           “Well, this is a good thing! Right?” She raised her eyebrows. “Right, Tristan?”
             “No! I’m not ready to be a mom! And Dominic? Dominic’s not ready to be a dad!”
            “Have you told him?”
            “No,” she sobbed. “I don’t even know how to handle this myself!”
            “Calm down,” Charla coached. “Take it easy, just breathe.” She pulled a chair and stared at the two pink lines in the little window of the plastic stick. “Maybe it’s wrong.”
          “It’s not.” She handed her another stick with a blue plus sign. “That means baby.”
            Charla got up, spat her gum in the trash and sat back down.
             “You shouldn’t tell him yet. You should think about what you want to do about this first.”
             “What do you mean?”
               Charla leaned forward. “Guys are possessive. Knowing Dominic, he’ll force you to keep the baby if you don’t want to.”
          Tristan looked at Charla’s hair. It was in an up ‘do that resembled a honey bun.
           “What if I wanna keep it?”
            “Yeah, what if you want to keep it and he doesn’t want it?”
            “Dominic’s not that kind of guy.”
            “You don’t know that. You said you’ve been having a lot of problems, right?”
             “Yeah but