Distracted

When Monday came again, I was over my cold and I wasn't bleeding as much as I had been, but everything still felt stretched out of place. The experience bothered me enough that it distracted me from paying much attention in class. I was able to get the gist of the assignment, but I didn't participate as much as I normally did. As my first class let out, my teacher—Mrs. Hopper—stopped me.

"Are you doing alright, Hanna? You seemed a little distracted today."

"I'm fine. Really," I replied.

"Alright. I'm here if you ever need to talk."

I nodded then left for my next class.

I tried really hard to pay attention in my classes after that, but I still found it easier to let my mind wander—to ignore the world, to ignore my body, and especially to ignore how I was feeling.

I recall very little of the next nine weeks. What I do remember is the lack of at least three periods and the appearance of frequent, and somewhat painful, wet dreams. My pubic area remained tender and occasionally a throbbing or tenderness came and went from my breasts. I had gained a little weight and my stomach started to look a little bloated as it sometimes did while I was having my period. Term had come to an end and some of my grades had fallen.

As I was getting ready to leave the last period of the day on Friday, my school counselor—Mr. Thomas—stopped by the classroom and gave me an envelope to give to my parents. I shoved it in my backpack then hurried out of the school. Mom had an issue come up at work, so she wasn't there to pick me up. I didn't mind. Less sitting.

I stopped by the local pharmacy on the way home and purchased a pregnancy test. I knew by this point I couldn't really deny it, but I needed to confirm what I thought after having had sex with myself. But by the time I arrived home, my parents' friends—Jake and Talia—were over. I pulled a face. They just had to come over this weekend.

Jake and Talia were a cute couple and I enjoyed their friendship. However, when they came over they stayed the entire weekend—not leaving until late Sunday night. But I guess the one good thing I had learned about their relationship was how attentive they were to each other, despite Talia being barren. More than once Jake and Talia had filled out adoption papers, but never got around to turning them in. When I saw them, I had hoped to be able to sneak into my room, but Dad saw me soon after I closed the door.

"Hanna," he called to me from the kitchen.

I pulled the letter from Mr. Thomas out of my backpack, just so I wouldn't have to hang on to it.

"How was school?" he asked.

"Fine," I replied. I set the letter on the table next to him. "I'll be in my room doing homework."

I could see the questioning look on Mom's face as I left the room. They would talk to me later, but after Jake and Talia left. While the adults continued to talk, I went into the bathroom and used the pregnancy test. Positive. Shoving the results back into the box, I buried the packaging in the bottom of the trash can before returning to my room.

I pulled the novel we were reading in English from my backpack and lay on my bed. I opened the book to read, hoping to distract myself enough to forget the results of the pregnancy test, but none of the words registered. Laying the book across my chest, I closed my eyes. I never recalled hearing my parents have sex, but I often got to hear Jake and Talia when they were over for the weekend since they were in the room right next to mine. I didn't understand how Talia could make the noises she did when she and Jake were going at it. How could she laugh and moan like what she was feeling was the best thing in the world? Sex hurt.

I shoved my pondering aside. I had to make a decision now that I knew for sure I was pregnant. My parents had given me several options, should I ever find myself pregnant before marriage. I could abort the child; I could drop out of school and get a job; or I could give the child up for adoption. But the three options were really only two in Mom's mind because of her fear of people finding out I was different—even Jake and Talia didn't know.

When it came to Mom, my only options were to abort it, or drop out of school and get a job. Several times over the last three years we had gotten into heated arguments that the decision should be mine to make. I didn't have the same issue with Dad. He always told me he would support me in whatever decision I felt was best. I knew my education was important. Both of my parents pushed me to do my best; to learn what it was I didn't understand about the topics we studied in school.

I refused to sacrifice my education, which again only left me with two options—abort it, or give it away for adoption. I continued to lie on my bed, still unable to read my English assignment, as I thought about my options. The thought about aborting the fetus twisted my guts. But so many questions ran through my mind when I thought about adoption. What if the child was hermaphrodite? Then what? Would it be accepted by a normal couple? Would it be ridiculed for being different? And if it wasn't, how would the family react once the blended gender appeared again?

I was still contemplating my questions when there was a soft knock on my door and both of my parents came in. They sat on either side of me.

"What's been going on at school, Hanna?" Mom asked.

"Nothing," I replied. "School is the same as always."

"That's not what this letter says." She held up the paper and envelope I had brought home. "Your teachers are concerned. They say you're not participating in class and are not very engaging in the group discussions. What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Has your course work suffered?" Dad asked.

"I don't think so."

"Okay." He patted my leg just above the knee then left it there.

I could feel Mom wasn't happy by her silence, but after another minute they left me to continue doing my homework. I took a deep breath to clear the tense feeling Mom left in the room. Finally, I opened my eyes and tried once more to read the English assignment. The rest of my homework I completed standing by the tall table against the wall across from my bed. I was almost finished with everything when Dad came back to let me know dinner was ready.

"Is there anything you want to talk to me about?" Dad asked, before we left the room.

"No."

"Alright," he said, embracing me. "You know I'm always here to listen when you're ready."

"Thanks, Dad." I hugged him back before we entered the kitchen.

I had to sit tonight. I didn't want to, but it was Mom's requirement to keep friends and extended family from asking questions. The only thing that made sitting for meals tolerable, was a soft pillow I could kneel on so it wasn't so hard on my knees and feet. I knelt on the chair between Dad and Talia.

Tonight as the dinner conversation got started, I didn't talk unless asked a direct question. Then I answered with as few words as possible. I didn't bother listening to what they talked about, until Talia announced that they had finally turned in adoption papers. But instead of feeling happy for them I just felt sick. I picked up my plate and set it in the sink. I no longer felt hungry, and returned to my room.

I finished my homework then went into the computer room. I stood in front of the computer and opened a new internet window. I didn't even know where to start looking when it came to putting up a child for adoption. Mom refused to talk about it, and I figured I could have asked Dad if I felt I needed to have the answers. I never had and now didn't want to with Jake and Talia over. I was still staring at the screen, debating what to type into the search engine, when Talia came in.

"Are you feeling alright, Hanna?" she asked. "You're not acting like your usual self tonight."

"Everything's fine."

"Are you doing research for one of your classes?"

"No."

I left the room before she could ask any more questions. I slammed my bedroom door closed. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I just wanted to be left alone. Curling up on my bed, I cried. I didn't want to be pregnant; I didn't even know where to start looking in order to put the child up for adoption; and I still didn't dare tell my parents I was pregnant, despite knowing I'd have an easier time telling Dad than Mom.