The Bet *Hand Me Down

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Chapter 42 *Hand Me Down*

~Sophia

P-pre-pregnant?

The sound of the word is foreign to my mouth. The thought of being pregnant haven’t even visited my mind. Where did my dad get that? Oh, I’m not stupid to be pregnant while I’m still in high school. I have a lot of dreams, I can’t see myself with a child. Just visualizing it sends a shudder through my body. Such a creepy thought.

Beside me, Draky is as red as a strawberry. I don’t know if he’s controlling his self not to laugh or what. It looks like he’s not breathing.

Staring at him, that’s when I realize what my dad is implying. The heat starts to flood my cheeks, making me feel hot – inside and out. No wonder Draky is being like this – my dad accused him that he’s the father of my imaginary child.

I have a child – and Draky is the father. Oh God. Oh God. I’m hyperventilating. Never, I repeat, never in my mind I dreamed of Draky being a father to my child. It’s as if I daydream about things like that.

How can my father even think of that? Me, a mother at seventeen? Never!

“Dad!”

“What?” he asks angrily.

I can see the veins protruding, and that’s when I notice how mad he is. I can’t believe he’s really serious about this.

“Austin,” says my mom, trying to calm my dad.

I’m afraid his blood pressure will rise. Then I remember what my mom told me. My dad was sick. I can’t bear the thought of losing him.

“I.Am.Not.Pregnant.” All pair of eyes looks at me. “Iamnotpregnant,” I say, now more quickly, so it sounds like it’s just a single word.

“Why did you vomit then?” asks my dad.

“I ate mayonnaise,” I explain.

“But you’re allergic with mayo,” says my mom obviously.

“I know,” I mutter. “I accidentally ate it. That’s why I was sick.”

Oh."

“I didn’t know you can be allergic with mayo,” Draky says thoughtfully.

“Well, I am. As a matter of fact, I think everyone have allergy with a specific food or a season, or anything. I don’t know.”

“It was a misunderstanding then,” my mom says, smiling sheepishly.

“That’s why you should have ask first,” I say disapprovingly.

“What?” asks my dad defensively. “Pregnant women tend to be sick when they smell something they don’t like, and eat something that will make them vomit.”

I feel embarrassed, sitting in the table with my parents and Draky while talking about something like this! I so want to vanish in this instant! I want to be invisible. Teenagers dreaded this part of their life when parents talk about these kinds of things.  Talk about an awkward situation.

My dad gives me a small smile. "Sorry about that. It's just teenagers nowadays are unpredictable. I'm not saying that you're like them. It's -- I'm worried, because you're my daughter. And I only want what is the best for you."

"I know what my priorities are," I mumble. "I won't alter my life with wrong choices. And I know what's the consequences of that."

Why, o why, can’t we talk about this when Draky leaves?

I have to change the topic, and the first thought that comes to my mind is what our current situation is.

“You said. .  .You said that Dad was sick,” I say to my mom. “It was in the past, right? Now he’s okay.” I look at my dad; to my disbelief, stupid tears are blurring my vision. Still, I do everything I can to hold them back. “You’re okay, right?”

Waiting for my dad’s response is one of the most painful moments of my life. I can’t take it if he says he’s going to leave me. I don’t even want to think of a life without my dad. I love him with all my heart. Just the thought of him being gone sends arrows of pain in my heart. I clutch my stomach to lessen the pain but it does no good.

Finally, finally, my dad nods once. That’s when I exhale the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Relief washes through me. My dad doesn’t like lying so I can breathe now, knowing he’s fine. Thank God he’s okay.

When I find my voice, I ask, “What happened?”

My mom looks at me with a concerned expression on her face. Before she can say something, Draky beats her.

“I’m sorry, uh, do you want me to go now?” he asks awkwardly. “Or maybe I can go to the living room and come back later.”

I almost forget that he’s here with us. How unfortunate for him to witness something like this. Is his conscience burning him, now that he knows I’m suffering even without knowing the bet? Is he planning to cancel it?

“It’s okay,” my mom says. “You can stay. It’s better if you know too. You’re Sophia’s friend. She might want to talk this with her friend after she learned what happened. And I know you care for her.”

Thanks for talking about me as if I’m not sitting in front of you.

My mom is assuming. If she knows what Draky’s real motives are, she’ll do the opposite of what she’s doing now. I have a feeling she’s going to strangle him.

“Sophia,” says my mom, snapping me out of my reverie. “You thought your dad and I were fighting because of a broken marriage.”

“Yes,” I admit. What’s the point of lying? It’s better if they know what I think.

“Truth is, we were fighting because your dad didn’t want to go to the hospital.”

“What?” I ask. “What hospital?”

“Your dad had an internal brain damage. It wasn’t really the same with Matt. It wasn’t strong, so he survived. But to live, he had to go to the hospital thrice a month for the therapy and diagnosis,” she continues.

It’s hard to process this information. My own brain is slowly grasping what my mom is talking about.

“We were doing this for the past four years. The reason we were fighting was that your dad was hard headed. I had to fight with him first, or well, reasoned with him before he agreed to come.”

“For the past four years?” I ask numbly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because we didn’t want you to be worried about me,” answers my dad. “And we know you don’t like going to hospitals. So we decided it’s best if you don’t know.”

It’s like my spirit gets our of my body. I watch myself staring at my parents without blinking my eyes. Draky gets my hand and squeeze it. But I don’t feel it because as I mentioned a while ago, my spirit left my body.

Everything I thought about my parents was a lie. I feel stupid, guilty, mean, for having bad thoughts about them. I didn’t know what was really happening so I assumed they were fighting for no apparent reason at all. I should have asked them. I should have probed for information. Instead, I just went with the flow, not a least bit caring about what’s really happening. I’m a horrible child. I’m a horrible daughter.

A tear escapes from my eyes without permission. That’s when I realize I’m back in my body. As if I really went away. . .

Maybe. . . maybe if I’m not a coward, maybe if I’m not afraid of hospitals, they would have told me. Maybe.

I want to scream in frustration! My head is pounding hard, like someone is hammering it inside out.

I can hear them talking but I can’t make out their words. I can’t even understand them. Am I losing my mind? I have to hold on to my sanity. I can’t be crazy. I have to be strong for my parents. They already lost a child, they can’t lose me too.

Closing my eyes, I breathe through my mouth until my heart beats normally. Well, as normal it can get. When I open my eyes, I see my dad sigh in relief.

“Sorry,” he says. “That was a lot to take in.”

“No,” I say. My voice is rough so I clear my throat before I speak again. “I want to know everything.”

“We went to the hospital out of town because your dad’s doctor said that the hospitals there have more necessary equipments to make the recovery of your dad faster,” says my mom. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. it must be hard for you, both of us leaving you without telling you anything.”

I’m about to tell them what Andre told me about the car crash that killed his father and my brother, but I stop myself because what we’re talking is already depressing as it is. Instead, I ask, “What now?”

“Now I don’t have to go to the hospital every month,” my dad says. “The doctor there fixed me. They said I just have to visit my doctor at least twice a year. Or if the pain is starting again.”

“Starting again?”

If,” my dad says. “I’m sure it won’t happen again though.”

“How sure are you?” I ask.

“One hundred percent sure,” he assures me.

I don’t want to let my hopes up, but I don’t want to think about the complications.

“I’m okay,” he repeats. “You’ll see, I’m like before; healthy.”

 “Okay is an understatement,” I mutter.

“I’m strong as a horse.” He grins, as if it’s funny.

I role my eyes at his choice of idiomatic expression.

The only time I realize Draky is holding my hand is when my dad stops talking.

“We have something for you,” my mom says suddenly, trying to change the topic.

Heaving a sigh, I ask, “What is it?”

She smiles and then gets up from her chair. “I’ll go get it.”

When she comes back, she hands me a wooden box. I can’t help but stare at the designs engrave on the box. Its hand made, for sure. No machine can do something as intricate as this.

“Open it,” my mom urges.

I look at my dad and see him with a smile on his face. “Go on.”

I don’t have to glance beside me because I have a feeling Draky is smiling as well. It scares me that I can imagine what he’s doing.

Opening the case, my jaw almost hit the floor when I see the thing inside. This. . . this is the most beautiful necklace I have ever seen in my life. I’m afraid to touch it because I might put damage to its beauty. I make myself contented by simply looking at it. In the middle of its chain is a diamond-shaped blue topaz inside a heart. Surrounding it are tiny diamonds that sparkles when they hit the light.

I’m star-strucked. Something like this . . . something precious like this can’t be categorized as a birthday present.

“Mom,” I begin.

“That’s a hand me down,” she says, “My great grandmother passed it to my grandmother, who gave it to my mother. My mom passed it to me.” She pauses and smiles at me. “And now I’m giving it to you. It’s our family heirloom.”

“Thank you,” I say. I can’t even express my gratitude. No words can describe how overwhelmed I am. I never really have something like this before. I didn’t even know we have a family heirloom. I promise to myself that I’ll take care of it—

“And of course,” says my mom, interrupting my thoughts. “You’ll pass it to your daughter someday.”

Oh no, please tell me I’m wrong – that when my mother said the word daughter, she didn’t look at Draky. Please tell me I’m wrong because I don’t know what she mean about that. It’s just – ugh! Stop thinking about that!

“Emily,” my dad says, “Sophia is still a teenager. Please refrain from saying things like that.”

Says my father who thought I was pregnant. “Dad,” I mutter, “I thought we’re done with that?”

“I’m not saying she should have a daughter right now,” says my mom, rolling her eyes. “I know she’s young, and she has more to learn. I’m just telling her about the tradition. Although it’s not as if she’s not going to marry someday and conceive a child."

“Mom!” I interrupt, cheeks flaming. My parents sure know how to embarrassed me.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“Let’s talk about something else,” I say abruptly.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything, except that.”

“Okay, okay,” says my dad. “Let’s not make Sophia uncomfortable.

“Thanks Dad,” I mutter.

-- -- -- -- --

“Sophia,” says my mom, “why don’t you walk Drake to the door?”

“Fine,” I say.

It's almost eleven in the evening. We talk about things, and fortunately, it's every different from our topic before. I'm glad we're done now. It's been a long day.

“It’s okay, I know the way,” Draky says.

“I’m already standing. I might as well walk you outside.”

“If that’s what you want,” he replies, smiling.

As soon as we’re out of sight of the dining room, Draky grabs my hand. Is he trying to give me a heart attack? Didn’t he know that when he does something like this, my heart is ripping its way out of my chest?

He sways our arms while we walk. Ugh. Why is he so good at this? What am I going to do now? It’s so hard, putting in my head that he’s doing this to win. My heart and my mind agree to disagree with a lot of things. I’m itching to tell him that I know what he’s up to, but I remind myself that it’s not the right time yet.

In the meantime, I try to play with him by bumping his hips. He looks surprised, and underneath that, I can see that he likes it.

“You know, I think you like me too.”

“What?!” I stop walking and face him.

“You just don’t know it, but I feel that you like me too,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Don’t assume things you don’t know,” I say.

He smirks - that trademark smile of him. His lips - I swear, one day, something will happen to that. “You might even like me as much as I like you,” he continues, as if I didn’t contradict him. “But wait, I’m falling in love with you, but you just like me now. And I doubt you can love me as much as I love you.”

This jerk! How can he assume that I like him?

Wait.

That means my plan is working. That means he thinks that I’m falling in love with him. I should be cheerful and happy because of it, but instead, I don’t feel like celebrating. I don’t feel anything at all.

“Draky,” I say.

“Yes, Pie?”

“You said you’re falling in love with me,” I state. “When did that start?”

“I don’t know,” he says, doing a one-shoulder shrug. “It just happened, and the next thing I know, I can’t bear the thought of living without you. You’re the best thing that ever happen to me. The best part of my life is the time I spend with you. Just thinking about you not reciprocating my love for you sends sharp knives through my heart. But I can live with it, as long as you’re happy. I don’t want to be the reason of your loneliness.”

Nice speech there. How many days did you plan it? Were you the one who prepared it, or was it Andre?

“Why me?” I ask.

“Why not you?” he asks, surprised. “Of course it’s you. It’s always been you.”

I shut my mouth before I say something I’ll regret later.

Before I know it, I’m standing outside my house beside Draky. I don’t even know when I started walking.

“Thank you for the dinner,” he says, bringing me back to reality. “It was amazing talking to your parents.”

“Even when my dad thought you were the father of my imaginary child?” I tease.

“Well, it was awkward,” he admits sheepishly. “But I would love to be the father of your child someday.”

“Draky,” I snap.

“What?” he asks innocently.

“Please don’t say things like that,” I mutter, blushing like there’s no tomorrow.

“I’m just telling you about our future.” He takes a step towards me and brushes the hair away from my eyes.

Our future?” I repeat, trying to swallow the lump in my throat.

He smiles. “You’ll see -- you’ll fall in love with me.”

Huh. That sounds familiar.

Of course it is.

He wants me to fall in love with him ever since he laid his eyes on me. That's their deal.

“Let’s see,” I say smugly.

He leans down and plants a kiss on my cheek, a few centimeters from my lips.

*****

I hope you liked it! :)

The song is Oh, Darling by Plug in Stereo ~ amazing song, and a great artist. Banner by Nathasya Thio.

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