FicWad

Pen walked on the bus in a daze, feeling completely at a loss and helpless.

“Where’s my change, Pen? For that matter, where’s the gum?” Mikey asked her as she passed him. She had no intention of telling anyone that she was pregnant, but the instant that she looked Mikey in the eyes, she knew she couldn’t keep it from him, and her face crumpled as she broke down sobbing. Mikey jumped; he hadn’t been expecting that. “What’s wrong?” Concern was etched on his face and his hand moved to Pen’s back reassuringly.

“I--I--I--” she gasped out; she couldn’t speak. “I--I--I can’t--say!” Pen covered her face in her hands and sobbed into her fingers. Mikey led her into his room and sat her on the bed, making sure the door was closed before asking her once more what was the matter. “I--I took a pregnancy test--and--and--” She couldn’t go on.

Mikey, however, got the idea. “Pen…did it…are you…pregnant?” he said the last word quietly, jumping as she let loose another assail of sobs and wails.

“Yes!” she cried, leaning into his shoulder. He slid his arm around her instinctively, but couldn’t believe it.

“Are you…are you certain?”

“Y--yeah!”

“Could it be that you just got a crappy test--”

“I tried ten different brands, and they all said yes!” she yelled into his shirt. Mikey’s shoulders sagged and he had no idea what to say.

“Oh,” was all he could manage. This just made Pen sob louder. He pat her back, trying to be supportive despite his loss for words or actions. “Well…what are you gonna do?” seemed most appropriate.

“I don’t know!” she lowed, clutching his shirt and soaking the shoulder with her tears.

“It’s okay,” Mikey finally decided on a tact: encouragement. “It’ll be fine. We’ll all work this out, we’ll figure it out together, all of us--”

“No!” Pen sat up suddenly, eyes wide. “Please--don’t tell anyone else. I don’t want anyone else to know; I wasn’t even going to tell you. I don’t want the rest of the guys to find out.” Especially Bob, she thought to herself.

Mikey looked at her for a moment. “Alright,” he finally consented. “I won’t tell. But I think you should,” he added, raising an eyebrow.

Pen ignored the last comment and hugged him. “Thanks, Mikes.”

Two weeks passed; the longest two weeks that Pen had ever known. With the drugs, every day seemed to melt into the next, everything became a blur, and time was meaningless. After she quit, all Pen could think of was, Now I’ve been clean eight days…Now I’ve been clean nine days… Every day was another hill, holding only the prospect of another day to follow after it was over. Pen began to feel overwhelmed with how slow life was without her vices. She began to take long walks whenever the bus stopped, going wherever the wind would take her, and turning around after she deemed her walk to be half-over.

It was on one of these walks that Pen found herself wandering into a run-down pawn shop. The windows were dirty and cracked, and the ‘We’re Open!’ sign was yellowed and aged. The place smelled musty and was only dimly lit by the near-burnt-out bulb hanging from the ceiling. A bell rang as she stepped in.

A bell sat on the counter, and beside it a sign read ‘Ring for Service’. Pen wandered through the small place, examining all the wares put out on display. Pen glanced at the crappy old costume jewelry that was encased in glass beneath the counter. Big, flashy rings, huge beaded necklaces, a braided gold tennis bracelet…

Pen gasped. She snapped her head back to where she saw a very familiar bracelet sitting in the palm of a white jewelry-display hand. It caught even the dim light offered by the light bulb and shone brilliantly, catching the minute glare and maximizing its glimmer. Pen began to breathe rapidly; this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance…she had to get that bracelet back.

She banged her hand once, twice, three times on the bell, biting her lip and willing the owner or employee or whoever to come out and let her see this bracelet.

Finally, a scrawny man with long hair and large, watery eyes stepped out from the back. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’…” he muttered as Pen continued to hit the bell. “Whaddya want?”

“How much for the bracelet?” Pen demanded, gesturing through the glass at the beautiful accessory that had been hers not too long ago.

“This’n?” he took out the tennis bracelet, his dirty fingers slightly tarnishing the still-somewhat-new gold.

“Yes!”

“A hundred,” he told her, dropping it carelessly onto the glass surface of the counter. Pen’s jaw dropped.

“A hundred dollars! I don’t think he spent that much on it when it was brand new!”

“That’s the price, honey, take it or leave it.”

“Is it negotiable at all?” Pen bit her lower lip, wondering where she was planning on getting any money at all to pay for this.

“I won’t take anything under a hundred.” he said firmly, crossing his arms. “On the other hand…” he continued. “Perhaps we could…work something else out.”

Pen closed her eyes. How had she known? She decided that she’d never get out of having to exchange her body for what she wanted in life. It was times like this that she kind of wished that she was showing her pregnancy; he might not have been interested if he knew she was with-child. Luckily, though, her stomach was still pretty much flat, and the guys chalked up any weight gains to withdrawal, so none of them suspected a thing. Pen sighed and opened her eyes. If this was what she had to do, then so be it.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the pawn shop with the bracelet in her possession, clutching it in a small, blue plastic-bag. Her hair was slightly mussed, her jaw was sore, and she felt disgusting. The sour taste in her mouth didn’t help, either. She lightly placed a hand on her stomach, wondering if sex hurt the baby…

Pen ran all the way back to the bus, trying to get as far away from that disgusting place as possible. She tossed the bag on the ground and flew in through the door, the bracelet clutched between her fingers. She took a deep breath and walked into Bob’s room without knocking, shutting the door quietly behind her. He looked up from the bag of marbles in his hands, his father’s. He had been sifting through the smooth pebbles before Pen walked in, and he set them aside as she joined him on his bed.

“I wanted to give you this,” Pen said quickly, before Bob got a chance to speak. She opened her fist and showed her treasure. Bob’s eyes widened slightly as he took the bracelet from her, running his hand over the braided gold texture.

“Where--”

“Don’t ask. Just know that I found it, and I’m not proud of what I did to get it, but there it is.”

“Penelope,” he said, taking her hand in one of his. “This is your bracelet. I still want you to--”

“No, I can’t. Please. Don’t waste it on me, I’m not worth it. Give it to someone who deserves to have nice things…and your affections…” she added quietly, but he still heard. Bob shook his head and slid the chain over her hand and onto her wrist.

“Still a perfect fit,” he whispered, even though it was still slightly loose from the weight she had lost. To him, it looked just as perfect on her as it had on Christmas morning.

“I--I can’t--” she whispered.

Bob silenced her by leaning in so that their faces were so close that they could feel each other’s body heat, and their breath mingled together for a split second before their mouths connected. Pleasant tingles started in her lips and spread all the way through Pen’s body, making her shiver slightly. For a moment, they just sat like that, mouths touching, but Bob opened his mouth slightly and ran his tongue along her bottom lip, requesting Pen to open her mouth as well. She obliged, and the first thing she felt on her tongue was Bob’s metal lip ring, cool and hard. She lifted her hand to rest lightly on Bob’s cheek. He began to slide his arm around her waist when suddenly, he stopped. He pulled his arm back slowly and pulled away from Pen. She peered at him quizzically through half-open lids.

“What’s wrong?” she murmured, tracing his jaw line lightly with her fingertips. He reached up and grabbed her hand gently in his own, bringing it down and resting it on her lap, before letting go.

“I--I can’t do this just yet, Penelope,” he said, not making eye contact. “I--don’t know…I think we should just hold off for a while…see where this whole getting clean thing goes…because that’s what you should be concentrating on right now…” Bob couldn’t look at her. He clicked his lip ring lightly against his teeth, mentally beating the shit out of himself.

What was he thinking? Here was the girl he loved, practically throwing herself at him, and he was turning her down. Was he stupid? Heartless? Gay? He ran his hand through his blonde hair in frustration, still looking anywhere but at Penelope.

She looked at him for a moment, waiting from him to take it back, to scoop her up in his arms and hold her close, kiss her hair, tell her everything would be alright. Like he always did.

But not that day.

She walked out and shut the door, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She spotted a short, black-haired man walking into his room. “Hey, Frank!” she called walking over to him. He glared at her; he still wasn’t doing too well with getting clean. At least they could tell that he really was staying sober, since he was grumpy all the time. “Wanna fuck?” she asked bluntly.

The glare disappeared and was replaced with confusion mixed with excitement. “Is that a trick-question?”

“Not at all,” she grabbed him by the hand and pulled him into his room, closing the door behind them.

Pen didn’t feel any better after they did what they did, but at least she felt wanted.


Okay, so I know this is a REALLY long chapter; sorry about that. I didn't mean to make it so long, but it just seemed like I couldn't break it up into two chapters without having to cut parts out, or put in filler paragraphs to make it longer. So yeah. What did you think? What should Pen do with the baby? Abort? Keep? Go comment. OverAndOutxx