Free Screwed by Laurie Plissner

feel the metal pieces spreading apart, stretching her insides. She didn’t trust her voice, afraid that if she tried to speak, she would start crying hysterically, and she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to stop. It really didn’t hurt much, although she couldn’t imagine how a baby’s head could ever fit through that part of her body. She would surely split in two if it came to that.
    Dr. Ryder withdrew the speculum and placed it on the paper-covered tray next to her. “Okay, now I’m going to do an ultrasound to check the fetal heartbeat. Because you’re barely eight weeks, I’m going to do it internally, but I promise it will be less uncomfortable than the exam I just did. Also, we’ll need to do a blood test to check for STDs. I know this is an awful lot to take in, and the odds are low that you picked up something, but we have to make sure.” As much as she hated piling on the bad news when this kid’s plate was already overflowing, Dr. Ryder had no choice but to do her job, no matter how unpleasant.
    Not knowing what else to say, and wondering what other indignities she would have to suffer before this ended, Grace merely murmured, “Okay.” The bean was bad enough, but a sexually transmitted disease would be the shit cherry on top of her crap sundae. If Nick had given her AIDS or herpes on top of this baby, she would definitely do herself in. Well, first she’d kill Nick, and then she’d do herself in.
    As the doctor pressed buttons on the machine, typing in Grace’s vital information, she said, “Have you made a decision about the pregnancy? There’s no objectively right answer, you know. It all depends on your situation.”
    “I just want to wake up and be me again. But my parents would never let me have an abortion — they think abortion’s murder. So I guess I’m going to have it, and maybe put it up for adoption.” Until that moment, Grace hadn’t actually thought about what
she
wanted to do. She had assumed she didn’t have a choice once she owned up to Betsy and Brad.
    Dr. Ryder paused. “That’s weird. We have you down for a D & C this morning.”
    “A what?” There was so much Grace didn’t know, didn’t want to know, but she realized she had no choice but to get educated, and fast.
    “D & C stands for dilation and curettage. We insert an instrument in the uterus and scrape it out.” Dr. Ryder spoke without emotion. She felt sorry for the poor, trembling girl lying on the table in front of her, but if she was old enough to go all the way, then she was old enough to hear all the facts.
    Grace gasped. That sounded horrible — cruel and painful. Placing her hand on Grace’s shoulder, Dr. Ryder said, “Don’t worry, you’ll be asleep, so you won’t feel a thing.”
    Recovering slightly, Grace said, “That can’t be possible. My parents would never let me have that done.”
    “Well, let’s look into this.” Dr. Ryder picked up the phone on the wall and spoke quietly into it. A minute later there was a knock at the door. “Come in.”
    In walked Betsy, her purse tucked tightly under her arm. “Is everything all right?” She looked suspiciously from Grace to the doctor.
    “Everything’s fine. Grace is definitely pregnant, based on a cursory examination of her cervix and uterus. I was about to do an ultrasound, just to confirm and make sure everything looks normal before we proceed.”
    Betsy nodded but said nothing.
    “We have Grace down for a D & C, but she says that must be a mistake. We haven’t discussed all of Grace’s options yet, but it would be helpful to know if an abortion is a possible alternative. Perhaps you can help clear things up, Mrs. Warren.” Turning back to Grace, she said, “Ultimately, of course, Grace, it is
your
choice. Have you had a frank discussion with the father? Does he have an opinion?”
    At the mention of Grace’s co-conspirator, Betsy found her voice. “The father is of no consequence in this. And while I am opposed to