It was early April and spring semester of my freshman year was coming to an end. In computer class I was talking with my friend Guila when he walked in. Tall, brown, and his light brown eyes glowed at me as they caught my eyes glaring over the most masculine figure I had seen around school. He was a new student. He’d transferred from a school across town. A month went by, and I had been dying to say at least one word to him, a “hi” maybe? My friend told me that he was interested in getting to know me, but I didn’t even know his name. I didn’t believe her until she gave me a note during class. It read: “I'm transferring back to my old school, I didn't get a chance to talk to you so I asked Guila to give you my number. I hope you call and if you don't then I'll understand that too.” It was signed “Allen.” His name was Allen. I thought it was a nice name.
That night when I got home from school, I grabbed my uncle’s phone and went to the room my uncle had given me to stay in for the year, closed the door and tried to find the nerve to press the buttons of Allen’s number. With a big smile on my face I listened to the rings; I wanted to hang up from nervousness but I held on, “Hello?”
His voice so deep yet so smooth caused waves of electricity to run through my body, my eyes closed as I soaked in the fact that I was actually on the phone with him. “Hello?” He said again.
I was so caught up I forgot to say anything. “Oh hey, it's Emma, you had Guila give me a note?”
“Yes, I can't believe you actually called.”
“Yeah me either.”
Our chemistry that night was so amazing, we talked for hours, our first time on the phone or even exchanging words, and I didn’t want it to come to an end, but I knew the moment of pressing that red button to stop his voice from wrapping itself around my mind was going to come sooner than later.
Allen was hard on the outside. No one would bother him or want to be on his bad side. He was no joke. But when it came to being with me, that hard exterior melted away and he became a loving, caring, warm individual. He was just as sensitive as any other person who had been heartbroken once upon a time. He let his guard down with me, and I loved the fact that he let me be my crazy weird self and he would be the same.
I fell in love with Allen when he told me about his previous heartbreak, but for some reason he felt like I was different. He had unwillingly opened himself up to me and hoped that I would take care of his heart rather than damage it more. His words hugged me and kissed me, my blood warmed through my veins and I smiled with promise.
We were together for three months before he went to jail. He would never tell me what crime he committed. He was stationed at a camp in Lancaster. I wasn’t able to see him because my parents didn't approve of my being with him.
A couple of months after he left I became depressed. No one knew what state of mind I was in. I tried to act like everything was fine. I always wore a smile. I went out with my friends and out with my family to eat. But really all I wanted to do was lock myself up in my room and just imagine him holding me and whispering in my ear, relaxing the muscles in my body with the voice I craved to hear every day.
I probably could’ve talked to my best friend through my low days, but she was the same age as me, how could she really help? I wanted to talk to someone older, but I was scared of being judged, called stupid for thinking I was in love or deemed the girl who would forever mess with the wrong guys.
But it was love I knew it. I felt it.
He was released a year later.
I had ditched first and second period to go see him. After I got off the bus, I walked two blocks back towards the way I had come until I found his street. When I turned the corner I could see him waiting for me in his driveway. Seeing him made my stomach fill with butterflies. I felt like running and jumping on him but I just smiled and kept my cool and just cruised the rest of the way. As I walked up, he smiled and turned to go inside his house through the side door. Like a pup, I followed behind him.
After I closed the door behind me I sat my purse on a nearby chair and took off my shoes just to be comfortable. And before I could lift my head to look him in the eyes, I found my face buried in his chest and I could feel the intensity of his longing to be reunited with me through his arms wrapped so tightly around me.
The whole three hours we spent together, we exchanged few words. Somehow, we were able to just read each other and connect emotionally. I could read his mind and he could read mine. The silence felt just as good as his touch. My depression was gone and my worries were released. The outside world was nonexistent, it was just me and him and everything for the first time was okay. I finally exhaled from the lifted weight that had dragged my shoulders to the ground.
After I left his house and got on the bus to be on my way to school, Allen called me on the phone. “You're gonna have my child,” he said.
I froze. I was more excited than scared of the fact that I was going to be pregnant. That I was going to have something with Allen that no one could take away from us and that was happiness.
Two days later he came to the school football game to see me. He came with a big group of friends I hadn’t seen before. He was dressed in black from head to toe. He said he was just hanging out for a bit, but I had a bad feeling. Something told me to tell him to go home, but I didn’t listen.
Third quarter came around and I didn’t feel well so I walked to the front of the school to wait for a bus. As I waited I got a text. Before I could read it two helicopters passed over above me, and a swarm of police cars flew by. I counted about fourteen. As I counted every car I felt like each one was a nail stabbed into my heart. I knew this mob was meant for my Allen.
I called his phone but it was too late, my call went to voicemail.
I got a blocked call three days later. “It's Allen, I'm in jail.”
I was speechless. He’d been charged with robbery. My parents didn't know that I was pregnant. The only person who knew was my best friend, Sonya. She was the only person who wouldn’t judge me, who would just understand how having this child made me happy.
The second time he called, he told me that his mom had an apartment saved for me in San Francisco where she lived. He knew I wanted to be somewhere stress-free, and his mom said she would take care of me throughout the pregnancy, that I didn’t have to worry about being alone. Allen said he wanted us to have money before the baby came so he felt that robbing a couple of houses would cause no harm and would be a quick way for easy money.
Boy, was he wrong.
Softball tryouts came, and I felt a little bit of cramping so I thought maybe I wasn't pregnant after all, that my cycle was paying its monthly visit. Still Allen wished me luck and told me to be careful because he didn't want to lose his child.
Tryouts began and I was doing great. I was quick with my hands and even quicker with my feet. No one could touch me, and I could tell the staff liked me because they would give each other a look of satisfaction after I ran the baseline four seconds faster than any other girl trying out.
Everything was going great until I rounded third base and caught a mean cramp to my lower abdomen. It caused me to scream inside and fall to the ground. The coach asked if everything was okay. I just said I lost my balance. I got back up with the most dreadful pain I had ever felt and continued with the tryout until the end.
I could barely stand up straight but I knew I had to get myself together since I was catching the bus home. The bus ride was better than walking, but the pain stuck to me. I walked home after a traumatizing ride. When I got home I dropped my things to the floor and limped to the bathroom. I released and my pain subsided as I said goodbye to first unborn.
