The Back of an Ambulance

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I shivered in my coat as the paramedics looked over Oliver. He was drinking from a water bottle that someone inside the house brought to him. Now that some time had passed, he was sitting in the back of the ambulance, his legs dangling over the ledge. A large crowd was gathering around us, people whispering, many still holding cups or alcohol or beer bottles in their hands.

"Hey, come on! Give the kid a little space, would 'ya!" Grandpa said, shooing everyone away. He handed me a mug. "Here. Warm yourself up."

I took a sip. It was hot chocolate, smoke still rising out of the cup.

"Thanks, Grandpa," I said.

"You're welcome. How's he looking?" he asked.

"All his vitals are stable," said the paramedic. She took the blood pressure cuff off his arm. "I think he just got a little too excited and had some possible dehydration."

"Yeah. He hates water," I said. "He's been drinking coffee all night to stay awake."

"Oh, that could do it," she said. "How are you feeling, Oliver?"

"I...I think I'm okay," he said.

"We're not going to take you to the hospital, so if you're alright, you can go," she said.

"Oh really? That's good," he said.

"Good, that's great!" I said.

Another paramedic came by to help him down. I immediately hugged him.

"Thank you guys," I said to the paramedics.

"You're welcome. Have a good night," they said in unison.

"I need to go find your grandmother. How about you take Ollie back to our place and give his parents a ring?" Grandpa said.

"Yeah. I'll do that," I said. "Come on, Ollie. Can you walk okay?"

"I'm fine. Let's just take it slow, since it's a little icy," he said.

We walked across the frost-covered grass to my house. I unlocked the door, turned on the hall light, and left my snowy boots at the door, as did Ollie. We went into the living room, where he sat down on one of the couches. I sat down on the other side of him, a few feet between us. He didn't seem like he was in the cuddling mood.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked.

"How can I be? It takes two people to make a baby." He put his head in his hands. "Oh man. I can't believe I'd screw up like this. The one time I don't use a condom. That's probably what did it."

"Yeah. So much for my birth control." I sighed. "Ollie, I love you and I want you to be in the baby's life, but I understand if you don't wanna be. You have so much going for you with band and everything."

"My parents are gonna kill me, Jen!" he said. "They're literally gonna kill me for getting you pregnant!"

"Ollie, look at me," I said, putting my hand on his arm. He finally lifted his head. His face was red from crying. I tried to find the words. He was an emotional, sensitive guy, but I'd never seen him cry like this before. "I thought my grandpa would do the same thing, but he didn't. You'll be okay."

"I don't even know how I'm gonna tell them," he said.

"You'll find a way. Just don't put a positive pregnancy test and an ultrasound photo into a present box and have them open it."

"Wait, what?"

"Nevermind. Just...do you want me to tell them with you?"

"No. I can do it myself. I don't want to get you involved in the mess that's gonna come after. They're gonna be so disappointed. Hell, I'm disappointed in myself."

"Yeah. I feel the same way. I didn't want to be like my mom. But I know that I won't be. Even though I'm a teen mom, I'm gonna stay away from all that bad stuff, work hard, and then raise them to be successful."

He smiled. "I guess that answers the question about adoption, then."

"I...I hope that's okay with you. After not having my mom to raise me, and me spending my life wondering where she is and what she's doing, I can't imagine our baby wondering the same thing. Even if they have a good life with good parents, like I have, they'll always wonder where their real parents are. I also just...love this little thing too much to give it away."

I took the ultrasound picture out of my pocket. He reached out and held one end of it while I held the other.

"I mean, how can I not love those little stumpy arms?" he said, chuckling. "How far along are you, anyway?"

"The ultrasound tech said a few days ago that I was about nine weeks. I'm due in July." I smiled. "I have a tiny little bump under my sweater. Do you wanna see?"

He took a deep breath. "Okay. Sure."

I lifted my sweater and showed him my not-so-noticeable baby bump. I placed his freezing cold hand onto it.

"I...don't feel anything," he said.

"That's because I'm only nine weeks, dummy. You won't feel the baby kicking until I'm like twenty weeks."

"Hey, leave me alone, okay? I don't know anything about pregnant people."

I laughed. "Well, you're going to, now."

We kissed, then pulled apart.

"You doing okay?" I asked.

"A little better. It doesn't feel real. Like, I see the picture and your belly but it doesn't seem like we'll have an actual baby."

"Yeah. I feel that way too sometimes," I said. "Do you want a boy or a girl?"

"I...I have no idea," he said. "How about you?"

"I'm honestly a little worried about having another teen mom if it's a girl. So I kind of want a boy."

"Hey, don't even think that far ahead. We've got a long way to go before they're a teenager."

"Yeah. You're right. Well, it's getting late. How about you call your parents to come pick you up?" 

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