TROUBLE, A New Adult Romance Novel (The Rebel Series) (3 page)

CHAPTER TWO

I HAVEN’T BEEN TO THE grocery store in ages, and never to this particular one.
 
It’s kind of dirty or old or something - nothing like the place where my family shops, with its shiny chrome surfaces and gourmet cheeses and meats - but the food looks fine. Not that I can afford to be picky anymore.

My mood picks up in the produce section. As I wander over to a giant bin of apples, enthralled by their color and shape, I feel like Snow White must have when the witch dropped by with her poisoned snack.
 
As Colin fills up a plastic bag with bananas, I stand in front of the big, red juicy fruits with my mouth watering.

Unable to help myself, I reach out and touch one.
 
It’s shiny and pink, not totally red, reminding me of my favorite summer lipgloss.
 
I’ve never seen an apple like this before.
 
I wish I had the money for extras, because if I did, I’d buy six of them.
 
There’s only seventeen dollars and eighty-one cents left in my purse, and I didn’t even bring my wallet with me.

“Pink Lady,” a voice says over my shoulder.

I jump to the side in fright.

Colin
.

He’s really good at sneaking up behind people, making me wonder if cat-burglaring is in his repertoire.
 
Knowing him, it probably is.

“What?” I ask, trying to get control of my racing pulse while acting like he doesn’t send my system into complete overload just by being close.

He reaches around me and grabs one of the apples, tossing it up and catching it right in front of my face. “
This
… is a Pink Lady apple, a cross between the Golden Delicious and the Lady Williams.”
 
He rips a plastic bag off the roll and starts putting some of the rosy apples inside without saying anything else

I stand there staring at him, not sure if he’s totally messing with me or if he really knows what he’s talking about.
 
He sounded for a brief moment like a science teacher I once had and liked a lot.

“You’re staring at me again,” he says.
 
He looks over briefly at me and smiles before going back to his apple-bagging.
 
He totally knows what that smile does to girls.

“I’m not staring,” I say, my face flaming up to the point that I’m sure it looks like one of those fruits.
 
“And I haven’t
been
staring.”
 
I’m totally busted.
 
How many times has he caught me? God, I’m just like every other girl on the planet.
 
Easy to manipulate with just a look.
 
Ugh.

“Okay, then, stop making gooey eyes at me.”
 
He’s smiling but that doesn’t make me feel any less stupid.

“You are so full of yourself, you know that?
 
And it’s not gooey eyes, it’s goo-goo eyes.”
 
I snort. “Like I’d have goo-goo eyes over someone like
you
.”
 
I walk away, leaving him to suffer my serious burn.
 
Chew on that for awhile, Colin, you big dummy.
 
You’re not so great.

I want to feel like the champion of all come-backs and satisfied with having knocked him down a peg or two, but instead I feel completely stupid.
 
I’m a pregnant girl with sausagey ankles, accused of checking out a guy who’s so far out of her league and even out of her universe it’s not even funny.
 
Yuck
.
 
And I thought my life couldn’t get any worse.
 
Wrong again.
 
I used to be so calm.
 
So cool. So collected.
 
So
focused
.
 
When did everything get so out of control?
 
Why have I let it go this far?

I stop my inner diatribe when I reach the end of the ladies’ products aisle and take a left.
 
Upon reaching the tampon section, I realize I might have a problem.
 
My eyes scan the shelves.
 
Which brand does she want? Did she mention it?
 
I don’t recall hearing any of the brand names I see here.
 
What style does she prefer?
 
I’m chewing on my lip as I consider my choices when a voice comes from behind me.

“If you need some of those, I’d say you’re in a bit of trouble.”

I turn around to face the woman standing there.
 
She’s tall and thin, with perfectly straight, shoulder-length blonde hair, expertly highlighted.
 
I’m jealous of the ribbon hair-band she’s used to keep her long bangs out of her eyes.
 
I used to look like that - perfectly put together and neat - back before I got pregnant and stopped caring about pretty much anything.

“Oh.
 
I don’t need any tampons,” I say, my face going red.
 
Then I actually snort at the ridiculousness of it.
 
I quickly start talking again to distract her from my eerily good imitation of a potbelly pig. “They’re for my friend.
 
Really, they are.”
 
I don’t know why I’m suddenly nervous and feel the need to convince her.
 
It’s not like I’m in the drug aisle.

“Are you okay?” the woman asks.
 
She reaches out as if to touch my arm.

I move away to avoid her, my back hitting the shelves behind me.
 
“I’m fine.
 
Really, I’m fine.” I look to the left and right, searching for an escape route.
 
She’s not being mean or even overly weird, but I can’t help feeling nervous about random acts of niceness.
 
After having been rejected by my own family, it seems like a mean trick.

She smiles and moves to the side a little, giving me more space. I could run down towards the meat counter area if I really wanted to.
 
She’s being completely non-threatening.

“Okay,” she says, “it just seems like maybe you’re a little … stressed.”
 
She looks down at my belly.
 
“I hear being pregnant can do that to you.”

She looks so sad when she says it, I don’t run away like my first instinct tells me to.
 
“Do you have kids?” I realize what a stupid question that is as soon as my brain re-processes what she just said.
 
I wish I could take the words back when I see her expression.

“Unfortunately, no.
 
My husband and I have been trying for years, but it looks like it’s just not going to happen for us.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”
 
I feel awkward and silly, having this conversation with a complete stranger.
 
But to leave her in the dust now would be rude, and as much as I seem to have forgotten my manners with Colin, I can’t leave them behind now.
 
Not with this lady.
 
Not in this situation.

“Heartbreaking is more the adjective I’d use, but that’s neither here nor there.”
 
She visibly perks up.
 
“I hope your pregnancy is going well.”

“If you count stretch marks and swollen ankles as going well, then I guess I’m in good shape.”

The woman sighs, looking at my belly again.
 
“I envy you those things.”

The baby takes that moment to do a complete flip and my stomach warps into a weird oval shape.
 
It’s really uncomfortable, so I push my hands on either end of the bulges, trying to massage her into a more round shape.
 
She complies within seconds of feeling my pressure, flipping back in the other direction and settling into a ball-shape again.

“Oh my god,” the woman whispers.
 
“I just saw it move, didn’t I?”
 
She has tears in her eyes.

I want to cry right along with her.
 
The world is so freaking unfair.
 
Here I am standing here regretting my life while this complete stranger envies it.
 
Where is the justice in that?

“Do you want to feel her?” I ask.
 
I’ve never done that before, offered up my belly to a complete stranger.
 
No one has felt this baby move but me; but for some reason, this feels like the right thing to do.

The woman looks at me, her eyes all shiny and her face practically glowing.
 
“Really?
 
I’d love to.”

I shrug.
 
“Sure.
 
Go ahead.”
 
I’m nervous, but I don’t back away.

The woman wastes no time.
 
Moving over to stand closer, she puts one hand on the front of me, just above my belly-button, which is sticking out like a gross marble.

“It’s better if you use two hands,” I say, feeling shy and at the same time wanting to get this over with as soon as possible. Now that her hand is on me, I realize how creepy this is.
 
A grocery store aisle.
 
A stranger.
 
My belly in her hands.
 
What am I doing?
 
Who am I today?
 
I’ve never acted so completely out of character in my life.
 
This is Colin’s doing.
 
I’m going to blame this entire episode on his influence.

Her second hand comes up and sits next to the first.

I take her wrists and adjust her hands more to the sides, where I think she’ll feel some of the movement.
 
The baby tends to kick on the left and right rather than on my bladder, thank goodness.

The woman jumps with surprise a split second after I feel the baby move.

“I felt it!
 
I felt it!”
 
Tears roll down her cheeks as more kicks and bumps happen under her fingers.
 
She doesn’t bother to wipe them away; she’s too la-la over feeling the baby gymnastics.

I can’t stop staring at her.
 
She’s a total mess over something completely silly.

“Oh my god, it’s a miracle,” she says, her voice all weepy.
 
“The miracle of life is
right here
in your body.
 
You are so lucky.
 
You are
so
blessed.”
 
She lets go of my stomach and grabs me by the shoulders, pulling me into a hug that’s so enthusiastic, I’m afraid she’s going mental on me.
 
But then she lets me go and wipes away her tears with shaking fingers.
 
“I’m so sorry.
 
I don’t know what’s coming over me right now.
 
I’m never so publicly demonstrative.”

“Maybe it’s baby fever?” I say, worried she’s going to start crying again.

She nods as more tears slip out.
 
“Yes.
 
Baby fever is right.”
 
She looks up the aisle towards the front of the store before going back to looking at me.
 
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

I shrug.
 
“No big deal.”

She stops crying and stares me dead in the eye, now all of a sudden serious.
 
“Don’t ever say that.
 
Cherish what you have.
 
Never
ever
forget to be grateful for that which you’ve been given.”

I open my mouth to respond to her almost-sermon, but nothing will come out.
 
And that’s probably okay, since she doesn’t stick around to hear what’s on my mind anyway.

The woman takes off without another word, abandoning her cart in the middle of the aisle and jogging out the front doors.
 
A couple seconds later, she’s getting into a silver mini-van and leaving the parking lot going a lot faster than she probably should.
 
She barely stops before jumping out onto the road and speeding off.

Colin comes up next to me.
 
“Who was that?” he asks, watching her go too.

“Some lady who freaked out after she felt the baby move.”
 
I look down into her cart.
 
There’s fruit, vegetables, and several jars of baby food in there.
 
Baby food?
 
What would she need baby food for if she doesn’t have any kids?

Colin’s gaze drops to my belly.
 
“She felt
your
baby move?”

I look at him and frown.
 
“Yes, my baby.
 
Who else’s baby would I be talking about?”

“You can feel it move?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I mean,
another
person can feel it move?
 
Like, a stranger?”

“Yeeeess.”
 
I feel like this is a trick question.

He’s still staring at my belly.
 
It starts to get awkward.

“Are you trying to make her move?” I ask, amused by the expression on his face.

“Her who?”

“Her the baby.”

He looks up quickly at me.
 
“Can I do that?”

I laugh.
 
“Not with your Vulcan mind power, no, but with your hands, probably.”

“What?”

“You’re seriously confused right now, aren’t you?” I ask.
 
This is a revelation to me.
 
For some reason I was thinking a guy who knows about hybrid apple types would also know about the wonders of pregnancy, but apparently his knowledge is reserved for the world of botany.

“No, I’m not confused.” He looks at me like I’m the stupid one for a few seconds, but when I glare at him, he caves.
 
“Okay, maybe I am a little.”

I sigh, feeling like I’m talking to a fourth grader.
 
“She moves all the time, pretty much.
 
But if she’s not moving, I can make her move by giving her a poke.”