I got a call from the doctor, and they said I was 2 months pregnant. I wondered how they knew, since I hadn't had any blood work done recently, or even seen a doctor since August. I figured the baby was Steve's, and told him, and he was amazingly supportive, considering...well, considering everything. My mom called me a whore and threw me out of the house. To console myself, I went to a gas station and bought several sodas, some cinnamon fireball jawbreakers, and a lot of other candy. The gas station attendant (a woman with bleached hair and dark roots) called me "sweetie" and "baby".
     Then we were going over the recent midterm in my linguistics class. My professor asked if we had any comments on the test. I raised my hand and said that I was being nitpicky, but I didn't have enough room to write the answers in some spots. He sighed, and asked if it made me feel good to be so nitpicky. I apologized, but he walked out of the room. He returned a minute later with a baseball and a bat, and then he went outside to my car and started hitting the ball at my windshield over and over again. He then got in his car and started ramming it into my car. I got into mine and backed up and started ramming it into his, hoping that my momentum would lessen the damage to my car and inflict some on his.

No comments: