My Forever (The Next Door Boys) Read online

  8

  My Forever

  Jolene B Perry

  DEDICATION

  To my husband, Michael, for inspiring the Michael in this book.

  And for little Eliza Claire, whose arrival on this earth came at a perfect time to be included in Dani’s story.

  1

  Peeing on a stick is definitely not on a list of things I want to do. When I finish I try to put the cap on, just like the instructions say , only I almost drop it like three times in the process. My fingers aren’t working right. A hammering heart should not be affecting how well my fingers work.

  Now I’m supposed to wait.

  And wait.

  I stand and pace two steps back and forth with the dumb thing in my hand. My eyes go from the test, to my watch , and back to the test. I feel detached. It seems like the kind of moment you should be in the middle of, not detached from. This sucks. One line. I don’t breathe while I check the instructions. This is okay. This line is okay. My heart’s beating hard. I’m just hoping that…

  Oh crap. That line isn’t okay. A wave of something that’s a combination of terror and dread passes through me.

  My legs give out. I sit on top of the toilet seat, and put my head in my hands. I feel like I should throw up or pass out or that my body should react with the same force as my emotions, but instead I go numb. What a letdown.

  Someone bangs on the hollow door with the side of their fist. When I jump, I nearly fall off the toilet.

  “Dani! It’s my turn! I have rehearsal tonight. I’ve been helping mom with the twins all day, and I helped with dinner! I need a shower!” It’s my older sister, Gloria. I wish she acted as perfect at home as she does at church.

  “All day?” We both know the twins are in kindergarten.

  “Dani.” She’s laying on the annoyance thick now.

  I let out a big sigh in the hopes she hears me. “Just a minute.” My voice sounds good, b ut inside, I’m shaking.

  She bangs again. “That’s what you said ten minutes ago!”

  “And it’s still true!” I finally find a volume equal to Gloria. I grab the pee stick, the box and the directions and stuff them into the front pouch of my hoodie. I wonder how long I’ll have before my belly starts sticking out, and I have to tell my parents. The thought makes me nauseous. I step out of the bathroom—my head feels loud and heavy. I purposefully don’t look at Gloria. She has a really good pout, and I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of noticing it.

  “You could show a little more appreciation for what we’ve been blessed with,” she says.

  “Like you do while trying to destroy the bathroom door?” I pass her and walk straight down the hallway to the room I share with my younger sister, Hannah. The fake wood paneling in the hallways and the bedrooms is a constant reminder that we don’t live in a real house.

  I climb up on my bunk, the only space I have that’s my own, though I suspect Hannah sneaks up here sometimes. Unfortunately, she’s a good sneak, and I have yet to catch her. I lie down and stare at the ceiling. The texture forms the same patterns every time I stare up at them. There’s an old man, a duck, and a racecar. I can pick them out every time. The numbness has gone away just enough for me to feel how hard my heart is beating. I concentrate on taking deep breaths. I have to get a grip on myself. My hands clutch the contents of my pocket. So, this is it. This is what’s going on with me now. I’m the pregnant girl. I have no idea what to do with that , but the acceptance of it helps me breathe normally again. My real thoughts are getting through the noise in my head. I—

  “Dani?” It’s one of my brothers. My twin.

  “What do you want Daniel ? I’m in my room.” I don’t move.

  His face appears in the doorway. I look like Mom. He looks more like my father—pale, light brown hair. He inherited none of our mother’s Mexican skin. Daniel is a whole two minutes younger than me, gets away with practical murder, and never seems to be in trouble. I seem to be forever in trouble—usually having something to do with Daniel.

  “Can you tell mom that we stayed after school today together to work on math?” he asks.

  “What did you do?” I don’t really care. I just want to know why I’m going to be in trouble later.

  “Math, after school, with you? Please?”

  “Fine. Where were we? Library? Hallway?” I lie back in bed and wait for a response. “Daniel!”

  No answer. Well, that seals it for me. I’ll get in trouble for trying to help him cover up, and he’ll get away with whatever he’d actually been up to this afternoon. It’s better than telling them I spent the afternoon with Zack, again.

  Zack is a nice guy, but maybe doesn’t look like a nice guy. He sits in the back row at my dad’s church and doesn’t say much. We’re not dating. We’re not anything really, except convenient. We live close. His house is quiet. Mine is not. My dad doesn’t like us hanging out. It’s kind of funny now. Now that I’m pregnant because of the boy my father does trust. Pregnant. My insides swim. It’s real. I suck in my lower lip as I feel my chin start to tremble.

  “Dani.” It’s amazing how Gloria can put so much irritation into one word. She’s fresh out of the shower and stinking up the hallway with her shampoo.

  “What?” I try to mimic the annoyance in her voice and fail. Not only am I holding in tears, but I just don’t have as much practice.

  “You said you’d come to rehearsal tonight . W e need someone to play the piano . Barbara can’t make it.”

  “Again?” I sigh. Loudly. It will either be torture, or a welcome reprieve.

  “Don’t be such a spoiled brat , Dani. We’re doing the Lord’s work.” I hate how pious she sounds, how pious she always sounds, and I roll my eyes.

  “Don’t think I can’t see that from down here,” she says. She’s guessing, and we both know it.

  “I’ll be there.” I check my Mickey Mouse watch. My father had refused cell phones for his kids — except for Isaac and Gloria, of course. They’re out of high school and doing the Lord’s work full time now, just like my dad. As far as I’m concerned , they’re both adult bums, following Dad around, doing whatever he asks, so they can continue to get free food and rent. And now cell phones. I promise myself right now that when I graduate in the spring, I’ll get out of here. Though, my recent pregnancy test may change some of that , but I will get myself a phone. I hop down from the top bunk with my added weight, wondering how on earth I’m going to get out of this mess.

  2

  I throw the test and box away in the large garbage can of the women’s bathroom at the church. I’m lighter.

  We live next door to the church —part of a package deal. It’s convenient for Dad, the pastor. I stuff my hands in my now empty hoodie pouch and shuffle to the piano bench where I sit and wait for the choir. Distraction. I just need a little distraction. I’ll be happy when they get different music. I feel like I’m always playing the same dumb thing. I kick my feet back and forth underneath my seat. Gloria’s happily greeting everyone at the door. How can they not see past her fake façade? It makes me crazy.

  I’m the third of eight kids. Well, my twin Daniel and I are the third and fourth. After us, my parents took a seven-year break before having the final four—Hannah, who’s ten, Matthew who’s seven, and the youngest twins who are in kindergarten this year. Our house is always chaotic.

  The only reason I know how to play piano is that when I come out here to practice, Dad keeps everyone else away. It’s the only time I’m alone. He wants to make sure that I get the proper amount of time to play gospel music. I play what he wants me to half the time. I also have a bunch of sheet music I took from school, which I fully intend on giving back a
s soon I remember to make copies. It’s what I play the other half of the time.

  After four times through Amazing Grace, and two other songs I could play in my sleep, practice is finally over. My two friends, Kristin and Jill, come up and lean on the piano. They both sing in the choir. Jill’s lanky arms rest over the music, and her tight curls fall over her shoulders.

  “You’ll never believe what we found,” Jill whispers. She looks like she’s just uncovered the biggest secret of the Christian Life Church. I’m already bored.

  “Don’t.” Kristy shoots her a look. “Let’s go outside.”

  These girls are my closest friends because we’re the same age and go to the same church. I guess that’s where most of my friends come from. It’s like—do we have more than one thing in common? We can be friends. It’s nice because I have lots of choices of lunch tables in the cafeteria, but I generally end up with Kristy and Jill. Right now I really just want to be alone in my room. Or, as alone as I can be in my room.

  I follow the girls outside. Who knows what they’re up to. It’s usually something ridiculous like accidentally seeing the neighbor kid with his shirt off.

  “You will never guess what we found…” Jill starts.

  “…in the women’s restroom,” Kristin continues as she shifts her weight and tightens her dark blond in its ponytail. Her long face looks even longer when her eyes are this serious and wide.

  I can guess what they found. I’m thinking I should play some funny psychic joke on them, but I don’t. Mostly because the situation is anything but funny. Ironic, maybe. But not funny.

  “It was a pregnancy test, and it was positive!” Jill puts both hands to her mouth.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s mine.” I stuff my hands back in my hoodie pouch and push down as far as my hands can stretch it.

  They’re suddenly both speechless. I’m finding the quiet from them kind of nice , which again makes me wonder why we’re such good friends. I smile to myself as I try not to notice their stares of shock.

  “What?” Kristin says. “You and Zack?”

  “No.” We’re still standing in the snow, in the cold, behind the church. It’s probably the most conspicuous place to have this kind of conversation.

  “Who?” Jill asks.

  “Remember a little over a month ago, in January, when I went up to visit Lucas?”

  Every girl knows Lucas. He’s three years older than us. We’ve all crushed on Lucas at some time or another. He has light brown hair and gorgeous hazel eyes. He’s been the parent model for acceptable boys to date since he was 16. My dad absolutely adores him and his family. They’re the ones who set him up with his position as pastor. Lucas has spent the last two and a half years at the University of Alaska, in Fairbanks. We’re six hours away in Anchorage.

  “With Lucas?” Kristin asks. Her eyes are wide.

  I want to tell her yes because it’s the truth. But I can’t do it. I can’t rat him out. I was amazed he showed any interest in me at all. I hadn’t expected it. I’m just me, and he’s…well…Lucas.

  My dad asked, and Lucas agreed to let me come stay with him and his roommate to check out the campus. Dad was thrilled that such a responsible young man wouldn’t mind watching over his Danielle for a few days. He wanted to get me out of here. Away from Zack. Both of my parents wanted me to know what else was out there…I found out.

  “Hello… Dani…” Kristin says waving her hands in front of my face.

  “Oh, sorry, no, no, not Lucas.” Part of me still wants to tell them. I want to see their reaction, to see their jealous faces. The problem is that Lucas’ parents still go to church with us, and word will get out. It always does.

  “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you did that with just some random guy.” Jill frowns in a face perfectly filled with disapproval.

  “And you’ve never let Kevin get his hands up your shirt?” I ask.

  She reddens. “Yeah , but I felt really bad about it.”

  “And that’s why you let him do it again?” I widen my eyes. I’m freezing, I want to go inside, and I can tell already I’m grouchy with them and will just make things worse if we keep talking.

  “What are you going to do?” Kristin takes a step back and crosses her arms in front of her.

  “I have no idea. I’m still kind of hoping that it’s all some sort of crazy dream or big mistake.” That’s the truth.

  I want to buy another pregnancy test, even though it’s also not on my list of things I want to do, again, on the off-chance the one I used was faulty. But part of me knows it wasn’t. Part of me knows what I’m going to be facing.

  I don’t want to listen to that part of me right now. Way too scary.

  “Dani!” My mother yells across the yard.

  “Gotta go.” When I turn , I don’t look back at them. I’m afraid of what I’ll see. As I walk toward the house I realize I’m probably going to get in trouble because my brother didn’t stay after school to do math. It suddenly seems kind of funny.

  I come in the back door to see Mom working in the kitchen. She’s still incredibly petite, even after eight kids. Dad met her in Mexico when she was nineteen. He traveled as a part of Christian revival conference or something. They were married less than a month later so he could bring her home to the US.

  I’ve thought more than once that she could have done better. My mom is still gorgeous, and my dad has always been a pretty average looking guy. He’s also a workaholic, but they seem happy enough. And it’s not like a relationship should be based on looks, but still.

  “Your brother says you two stayed after school to work on math.” She doesn’t pause in what she’s doing. Her hands fly from the dishwasher to open cupboards, emptying the dishwasher for what’s probably the third time today. I’m taking her tone to mean that she doesn’t believe it.

  “Yep.” I slide off my shoes and kick them into the small cubby under the bench in the mudroom.

  “What did you two work on?” She glances briefly over her shoulder. Definitely suspicious.

  “Algebra?” I don’t mean for that to sound like a question, but she already knows I’m lying. It doesn’t matter what I say. I’m sort of resigned at this point.

  “Uh-huh.” She stops and turns around then. “You two need to tell me when you decide to stay after school. And if you didn’t stay after school, I need to know where you were , understand?” She’s pointing at me while holding a plate. I wonder what it would feel like to throw it against the wall and watch the small shards hit the floor.

  “Understand.” I start to nod , but it ends up being more like staring at the floor in defeat. My breathing isn’t normal again. Am I breathing? I suck in a deep breath.

  “Straight home after school for the rest of the week. Do you understand?”

  “Yeah.” I keep my eyes on the ground.

  She slowly turns around to finish her job. “When you go to your room to sulk, please send your sister Hannah in here . I t’s her night to help with the dishes.”

  “Sure, Mom.” I walk through the kitchen and living room into the bedroom part of the house.

  The bedroom part of the house, well the kid bedroom part anyway, is the leftover trailer. When we first moved here, we moved our family of six into a trailer. A mobile home dad called it. I called it a trailer. I still call it a trailer. He really hates that. The rest of the house he added later.

  I’m chewing my lower lip as I walk in my room. It doesn’t look like my room; it looks like Hannah’s. It’s all pink and Barbie and princess.

  “Hannah—”

  “I know, I know.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s my night to help with the dishes.”

  I dig around through the shelves in my closet looking for pajamas. If I’d shown that kind of attitude at ten, my father would have swatted me. He hadn’t been as busy then as he is now.

  I grew up in Richland, Washington. We moved to Anchorage when I was 9. My dad got the offer to preach at this church, and we left. That’s when he and m
om decided it would be a good idea to have a second family’s worth of children.

  Alaska is cold. I miss the hot , dry summers and shorter winters. When I climb into bed, it’s barely after eight, but I’m ready for the day to be over. I remember that Zack gave me a few CDs for my trip to Fairbanks. He made them himself—mixes of his favorite songs and artists.

  I put one in.

  The first song is by Civil Twilight. I like the frantic beat, and turn up my radio. Hannah’s still helping Mom so my room is my own for another few minutes. Part of me is relieved that I’m stuck home. How can I sit with Zack at his house without saying something to him? There’d be this thing hanging out there, and I really don’t want that. I’ll have to tell him eventually and that will end our odd relationship, as it should. He likes me enough to be offended. I’m once again grateful that he goes to the charter school and not my high school.