Confessions of a Bad Boy (19 page)

L
orelei leaps
out of the booth like she just heard a bomb go off the second I walk through the doors of the diner. She quickly steps toward me and I smile awkwardly as her enthusiasm draws a couple of strange looks.

“Lorelei…” I say as she takes my backpack from me and leads me by the arm to the table.

“Christ this bag is heavy, Jessie! You shouldn’t be carrying this!”

She dumps it on a chair and pulls another out for me. I roll my eyes a little and sit in it as she takes the seat opposite.

“I’m pregnant, Lorelei,” I say, leaning over so the few people still looking can’t hear, “not dying.”

“I know,” she says, with a tenderness in her voice she usually reserves for children, “but you’ve got to take better care of yourself from now on.”

I sigh and laugh a little at her – I can’t fault her ability to care.

“So what did the doctor say?” she says, with the urgency of a question she’s been anxious to ask.

“It’s all good. Blood test good, blood pressure good, examination good. Nothing to report.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Yeah,” I say, opening the menu in front of me. “My only problems now are the ones the doctor can’t fix. Oh, by the way, I filled out some form there and they asked for an emergency number. I put yours down – that’s cool, right?”

“Sure. Of course,” Lorelei replies, before pursing her lips as if holding back what she wants to say next.

I notice. We’ve spent too much time together the past few years for me not to notice.

“You think I should have put Nate’s number there.”

Lorelei holds her palms up and shrugs her innocence. Before she can plead anything the waiter comes over and I order a big sandwich, a side salad, and seasoned fries with a side of ranch, wondering if I’m already ‘eating for two’ or just indulging my hedonistic side. Once the waiter’s gone, I make small talk with Lorelei, mentioning a new art film I’m trying to get work on, asking her about her latest gossip article, and trying to avoid talking about my condition. But despite my best efforts, I can still see the concern on Lorelei’s face.

“What now?” I say, exasperated.

“Have you spoken to him?” she asks carefully, as if bracing for my response.

I don’t need to ask who she’s talking about. “Since we argued last week? Nope. I haven’t contacted him, and he hasn’t contacted me. End of story. Good riddance.”

“Oh, Jessie.”

My tough guy act obviously isn’t working. “Lorelei, if you get any more motherly you’re going to lay an egg.”

“I’m just really worried about all this.”

“Well I’m not,” I insist, holding my head up to add to the defiance of my words. “My responsibility is to take care of myself now, and my…future.”

“But Nate’s the father! You have to at least tell him!”

“I will. When I’m ready. I just…I need to figure out the best way to do that. It’s not exactly a convenient time to drop that bombshell. ‘Hey Nate, I’m still pissed off that you don’t want to be fuckbuddies anymore, but I thought I’d mention that you got me pregnant. Have a good day, asshole’.”

“I’m sure it won’t go like that.”

“Won’t it?” I say, leaning back a little for the waiter to set my food in front of me. “Thanks,” I tell him. As soon as he turns his back, I grab a few fries, dip them in the ranch dressing, and stuff them into my mouth, flashing Lorelei a thumbs-up as I chew. “Listen. Nate is Nate, and I know he doesn’t want this – a baby isn’t going to change who he is.”

“Maybe it will,” Lorelei implores. “It’s changed you a little.”

“But I’m
ready
to change, I’m happy to change. I have my shit together. Nate is still the same guy he was when we were teenagers,” I say, pausing only to put another fry in my mouth. “I don’t want even the smallest chance of him feeling guilt-tripped into getting back together with me because of a baby. That would be the worst thing for everyone – especially the kid.”

Lorelei nods empathetically. “I get that.”

“And then there’s Kyle,” I continue. “I’ll tell him the truth, but I need to pick the right moment.”

“Maybe the right moment is sooner rather than later?”

I look at Lorelei and let my shoulders drop. “I don’t know,” I say, looking down at my food like ignoring the question will get rid of the problem.

Lorelei eyes me like I just told her I decided to drop out of high school to become a stripper. I take a big bite of my sandwich and try to calm myself by focusing on the taste of chili mayo.

“Maybe Nate will surprise you, Jessie. He seems like a nice guy, the kind of guy who’d step up if he was asked to.”

I quickly swallow and wipe my lips, eager to put that idea to bed.

“No way. Uh-uh. Trust me, Nate is
not
that guy. He nearly vomited when he saw me with a Babies ’R Us catalogue I brought home so I could look for a baby shower present for my coworker. And he’s made it very clear that when it comes to family, the only end he sees is full of misery, obligation, and resentment. That’s not someone I want to raise a child with.”

“That bad?”

I nod, and then shrug a little, softening. “I mean, I get it. He had a rough childhood. It didn’t leave him with the most positive view on family life. But even without that, Nate’s a player. He’s always been on the hunt for something – someone – new. Our little ‘thing’ was pretty much the longest he’s ever been with one girl, and that didn’t even last two months.”

Lorelei turns away, looking about as sad as I should be feeling.

“People can change,” she says, her voice hopeful. “Especially when the stakes are so high. You should at least give him a chance.”

I stare at Lorelei and try to hold back the welling of emotion inside of me. Whether she realizes it or not, the last thing I need right now is to delude myself into something stupid, into hoping for a future, or expecting anything more from Nate than great sex.

“Honestly, Lorelei, even if Nate did tell me he wanted to try, I’d be an idiot to believe him. There’s no way I see it working out.”

“Jessie, don’t be so harsh—”

“I’m not. I’m being realistic. Nate got with me because he really wanted to fuck me – and I wanted it too – but it wasn’t because he appreciated me as a person, or our friendship, it was just that his desire was big enough to make him forget about consequences. Then, when I wanted to make it just a little more serious, he ran off like I had threatened his life. Add in the fact that he treats the idea of having children like a terminal disease, and forgive me if I assume he won’t turn into dad of the year overnight.”

Lorelei slumps back into her chair and grabs her milkshake for comfort, eyeing me like I’m a lost puppy. I weigh everything in my mind and finally let out a deep sigh.

“Okay. Fine.” I smile tightly, giving into Lorelei’s pleas even if I don’t fully agree with her logic. “I promise I’ll tell Nate about the baby next time I see him. Or at least – I’ll try. Alright?” Even if I hate the idea, it feels good to have made my decision.

“I’m glad,” she says, “and I’ll be here for you, regardless of how he reacts. I’ll make sure you don’t need anyone else.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I say, grabbing my cup and hitting it against hers, causing her to smile for the first time since I entered the diner.

“I suppose this means you’ll be trying for that house loan again?”

“Already did, and already denied. This bank didn’t even call me, just sent me a form e-mail this morning. I thought third time was the charm, but I guess not. Maybe fourth?”

“Oh, Jessie, I’m—”

“It’s cool. I’ll just have to work twice as hard, save up for a bigger down payment. One good thing that did come out of my little ‘charade’ at the retreat was that I made some good contacts. I’m going to get to work on them and hope something develops.”

“Fingers crossed. You deserve a bit of luck.”

“Maybe,” I say. “But I stopped believing in karma a long time ago.”

O
nce we’re done
, I drive us both back to our apartment and try to steer the conversation away from talk about maternity leave and baby showers by asking Lorelei more questions about what’s going on in her own life. I’ve spent so much time with Nate recently that I’ve missed a lot. She’s reluctant at first, too concerned about my state of mind and well-being, but once I convince her that I need the distraction and I want to get caught up, there’s no stopping her.

From the drive, to the walk up to our apartment, to the point at which we’re sitting in the living room with a couple of drinks (mine non-alcoholic, of course) she gives me a full checklist of her thoughts. From her indecisiveness about changing her hair color, to the book she’s reading about psychopaths, to the intern at work who she’s sure likes her but is six years her junior. It’s a relief to listen, to feel like I’m being a good friend again.

Eventually, talk turns to her favorite topic: the Bad Boy. I groan and pretend I suddenly have stuff to do, but she ignores me and continues to expound on his virtues (which as far as I can tell are just having a hot voice and talking about sex) as if it’s for my own good.

“I can’t believe you
still
haven’t even checked him out, Jessie. Seriously.”

“I plan to keep it that way. The last thing I need is another asshole in my life.”

Lorelei sighs. “He’s so not an asshole.”

“He sounds just like one,” I tell her.

“Owning your sexuality is practically the first commandment of feminism!”

“I don’t think that’s exactly correct, but I guarantee you he is
not
a feminist,” I snort. “He’s a predator.”

“Either way, he’s talking sense! That’s why you have to hear him for yourself,” Lorelei says, her voice getting more excited as she pulls out her phone, jumps up from her chair and sits next to me, squashing me against the armrest.

“Ugh,” I moan, “really?”

“Yes. Let me just show you this one… No, this one… Wait…
this
one – oh this one was amazing.”

I let out a deep sigh and resign myself to my fate as Lorelei starts the video and holds it in front of us. The video loads and a sculpted torso, its lines accentuated by the side-lighting in the semi-darkness, comes into the shot. I suppress a laugh and watch.

“You can spend a lifetime trying to figure the opposite sex out. You can read books, experiment, travel the world, and still feel like they’re speaking a language you don’t get…”

Something immediately feels wrong. Something about this video. His voice compels me, not so much
what
he’s saying, but the way he’s saying it. It feels familiar. The rhythm, the cadence, the intonation. I put it down to whatever it is that’s made him popular and continue watching.

“You can learn the hard way, pick up the bruises and read them like runes to get a little closer to the truth. You can let yourself be swayed by all the gurus, conmen, and sleazeballs out there who claim to have the answer…”

I let out a little snort at the irony, and Lorelei shoots me a quick, placating look. I turn back to the video, the sense of unease growing despite the ridiculousness of what he’s saying.

“You wanna figure out what the opposite sex wants? You already know. Listen to your body, your feelings, your primal urges. Get rid of all that surface bullshit, and learn to be an animal again. A creature of emotions and sensations and—”

“Stop the video,” I say suddenly.

“What? He’s just getting to the good part!”

“Stop it!”

Lorelei obliges and pulls back a little to look at me dubiously.

The hand I bring to my mouth is shaking, and I’m struggling to breathe properly. I feel my body go deathly cold.

“Jessie? What’s wrong?”

I look at her, and even though she’s right next to me on the couch, I feel like I’m calling at her from a thousand miles underground, the shock of realization pounding my consciousness into its deepest recess.

“It’s Nate,” I say, my voice trembling so much it turns the words into drawled moans with multiple syllables.

“What?” Lorelei says. “Forget about Nate, Jessie. Jesus. I thought you were having—”

“No,” I cry desperately, jabbing my finger at the phone for a few seconds before I can bring the next words to my lips. “
Him.
The ‘Bad Boy.’”

Lorelei gazes at me in confusion.

“It’s Nate. That’s him,” I add, the words tumbling out of my mouth almost involuntarily.

Lorelei’s eyes widen and she glances at her phone, then back at me.

“Are you sure?” she asks, her own voice full of shock now, too.

I take the phone from her and stare the image, surprise and incomprehension giving way to a rapidly boiling anger.

“Shit…” I whisper softly at the image.

“It might not be him,” Lorelei says, almost as if she’s pleading for it not to be so. “I mean, one six-pack looks a lot like another.”

“You see that mark there?” I say, my voice going from quavering mess to heated hiss. “That’s a scar he got when he was a kid, doing a dumb bike jump off a tool shed roof with my brother. I’ve spent months sleeping against that scar. Believe me, it’s him.”

“But the voice? It doesn’t sound like—”

“It’s him. That’s the voice he uses in…” I let out a spurt of air, still struggling to find my feet in this new reality. “In bed. That’s his fucking
bed
voice.”

I stare at the paused image, shaking my head as the cold chill down my spine turns into a fiery anger rising in my chest.

“Maybe it’s not so bad,” Lorelei says, taking the phone slowly from my hands like it’s a weapon she’s afraid of. “Maybe there’s more to it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I say, jumping from the couch and pacing quickly up and down the room. “How can there be more to that than
that?!
He’s a pig!”

“Jessie, calm down, please,” Lorelei says, perched timidly on the edge of the couch as she watches me stride from one side of the room to the other.

“No. I’m not calming down. I just found out that the guy I’m pregnant by – one of my closest friends – is also an internet-sex-pervert-guru-philosopher-asshole. Calming down is not a viable option. Anger is.”