Worse Than Enemies - Page 71

Or else he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want me, not really. I’m only a way for him to make himself feel better.

I practically crawl away in humiliation, gathering my clothes in the dark. I don’t bother taking the time to get dressed, choosing instead to peek out through the door to make sure Lucy isn’t wandering around before darting across the hall so I can be alone with my misery.

27

It isn’t until I wake up on Sunday morning that I realize what happened last night. Not the part about Hayes admitting what’s happening to him—how could I forget that? I cried myself to sleep thinking about it, wishing I hadn’t screwed everything up. Not like I did it on purpose. Not like I was trying to insult him. It doesn’t matter if I meant it or not, because the result was the same.

Now, I’m a little more worried about something else. What happened before that when I first woke up in his bed.

He came inside me. No condom.

My chest tightens when I consider what this means. Where am I in my cycle? I lost track. Could I end up pregnant? God, my life would be over. His life would be over, too. He’s going to be my stepbrother. This is why I told him I didn’t want us having sex anymore. This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen.

I can wait around and see what happens, or I can get Plan B at the pharmacy. Obviously, I know what I need to do. Thank God, Mom is away for the weekend, or she’d kill me.

Instead of going downstairs to have breakfast with Lucy, I sneak out when I hear her chattering with Charlotte in the kitchen. Bridget’s there, too, so I guess she’s feeling better. I’m glad, because otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do this.

It’s not a long walk to town—besides, I need to clear my head. This doesn’t have to be a big deal. I’ll get it taken care of, do the responsible thing, all that. Nobody even needs to know.

That’s what I’m telling myself as I walk down the family planning aisle in the store. I thought Plan B was carried out in the open, but I don’t see it anywhere. I have to go to the pharmacist’s counter, I guess.

I’m going to have to announce out loud what I need. This was a lot easier in my head, before I couldn’t just walk down an aisle and grab a box.

He’s waiting for me, too, eyebrows raised. “Yes? What can I do for you?”

Here goes nothing. “I need... Plan B.” There. I said it and I didn’t burst into flames.

“I see.” He gives me a penetrating stare. Is he judging me? “Can I see ID?”

“Why do you need that? I thought this was a standard product.”

“ID, if you want to buy.” He lifts his open palm, curling his fingers upward. I have to dig through my purse and grab my wallet, opening it and sliding my driver’s license out before thrusting it his way.

He takes one look at it and hands the card back. “You’re a few months shy.”

“No, I need it right now. I can’t wait a few months.”

His expression softens. “What I’m saying is, I’m not allowed to sell that to you until you’re eighteen.”

“That’s not true. I looked it up.”

“Recent state legislation,” he explains with a shrug. “It might be overturned, but for now you need to be a legal adult, or you’ll need a parent or guardian to come in and make the purchase for you.” I can tell he’s uncomfortable, and maybe he feels bad for me.

Maybe I can use that to my advantage? “But I can’t do that. Come on. Do I have to spell it out?”

“No, you don’t, but I’m not allowed to make the sale to anyone under eighteen.”

“What difference does it make? Like you said, it’s only a few months.”

“My hands are tied.”

My desperation is rising along with my heart rate. My stomach has that weird feeling, like I just dropped over the first big hill of a roller coaster. “How do they know? Like, do you have to scan my ID?”

“No, but I need to enter your birthdate into the system.”

“So, can’t you change the date? Please, I’m desperate.”

“I wish I could help you, but I can’t risk it. I’m sorry.” The phone rings, and I’ve never seen somebody look so glad to answer a call. He even angles himself away, silently dismissing me.

“This is bullshit!”

A pair of women shopping further down the aisle turn around and give me dirty looks, which I give them right back. Smug bitches. Maybe they should try being in my place for five minutes and see how well they do.

There’s another pharmacy three blocks down. Maybe this guy is one of those pharmacists who thinks it’s their job to bring morality into dispensing medications.

Tags: J.L. Beck Dark
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