My mind formulated insane escape routes more appropriate for an action flick than real life. “Oh, yeah?”
He pushed off from the wall. We were completely out in the open. Sure, no one was actually around, and yes, this neighborhood was shady. But nothing bad was happening. Nothing bad would happen. But my body didn’t seem to believe that. It was shivering and sweating and clenching like a spastic marionette.
His arms came around me in a bear hug. My face smashed against his chest. I drew in a Andrew-filled breath that soothed me. How could the sight of him terrify me but the smell of him comfort me? My body was as confused as my mind.
His embrace tightened to the point of pain. Abruptly he released me, then pushed past me to my car. I spun around, watching in horror as he peered into my backseat. He looked back at me. “This is yours.”
“Yes.” He knew my car, of course. He’d been in it before. He’d even helped me fix it up, back in the day.
“No, that.” He pointed through the window to the car seat. “You have a baby?” His voice was strained. The first crack in our shared facade.
“Andrew.” So many things in that single word: don’t go there, I don’t want to tell you, you don’t want to know, why did you hurt me?
But he didn’t hear them, or didn’t care. “How old is it?”
“Please. Just go.”
“Answer the question.”
“It’s none of your business. There. How about that for an answer?”
“Don’t bullshit me. You were never good at it.”
“I’m not bullshitting you. That’s the truth. Bailey’s not your business.”
“Bailey.” He said it slowly, weighing the name. It made me angry. His eyes faded from anger into wonder. “A girl?”
“She’s mine. You have nothing to do with her.”
“Really? Is that true?” His tone called me a liar.
I said nothing, just narrowed my eyes at him in impotent rage and fear.
“Tell me who her father is, if not me? Is it Kyle, from third period? You went out once, right? Did you see him again? Or was it that guy where you work? Or are you hooking like Shelly, and you got knocked up? Whose is it, if it’s not mine?”
I hated, hated, the stinging warmth in my eyes. I blinked, but it only made it worse. Weak. Stupid girl, never learns.
“Let’s not fight.”
Andrew’s voice turned soft, a supplication I’d interpreted as affection back then. Now I wondered whether it had always been a front. Or was it sometimes true? Either way he couldn’t be trusted.
“It doesn’t have to be like this. We were friends once. I want to be your friend again. I’ve been looking for you everywhere. And now I find you, and we have a…a kid together. Jesus. It’s crazy. I mean, I’m in shock. But it’s good, right? You and me, it’s always been you and me.”
Somehow during his speech he’d moved forward, and I’d moved back until my back was against the wall. “No. I don’t want to be friends. I can’t do that.”
“I know that you’re…angry at me.” It was the closest he’d come to referencing what had happened that night. “But we can work through it. I know we can.”
“I don’t want to, don’t you get that? If you cared, you wouldn’t even ask me.”
“You’re wrong, Allie. It’s because I care about you that I’m here. I made a mistake when I left before. I should have stayed and fought for you, but I’ve always cared about you. You have to know that.”
“It’s not going to happen between us, not ever.”
“You can’t just throw this away. You can’t just ignore me because you’re angry.” His voice was rising now. I hoped Shelly would know to stay inside, to keep her and Bailey out of sight rather than check on me if she heard him. In this neighborhood, staying inside was the default thing to do.
I kept thinking that if I just told him no, in clear terms, that maybe he would walk away. But that was stupid. It hadn’t worked before. I tried a new tactic. “She’s not your kid. You’re right. I got knocked up by some guy I met at the bakery. So don’t worry.”
“I don’t believe you. I told you, you never lied good. She is my kid. I want to see her.”
“Just stop.” My voice came out so shrill that it shocked me into silence. I took a deep breath. “I swear to God, Andrew, you will not get to see her. I am her mother, and you are not her father. You did not make that baby in any way that counts, and I am not going to let you in our lives. Do you hear me?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I hear you.”
His words barely registered as I went on. “You will not touch her. You will not touch me, not ever again. Do you understand that? Are you hearing me? Are you listening to me tell you no, because goddammit, Andrew, I said it before and you didn’t listen. I need you to hear me now.”