California

They watched the ripple through her belly with awe as they lounged in the bed of his truck. The autumn breeze blew softly over them, sending a parade of colors across the open hatch on the old pickup.

         “So….California?”

         “Yes, California.” She sounded distant, as if she were long gone in some magical world of memories.

         “Why?”

She rolled onto her elbow, meeting his stormy gray eyes for the first time since they got to the field. Her belly was more defined in this position; according to her doctor, it was all baby.

         “Have you ever had a feeling that where ever you go, people are always starring at you? Pointing at you? Laughing, talking, whatever?” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment; the pause wasn’t necessarily to let him speak, it was for her to think, and he knew that. He knew her all too well; they’d been best friends since second grade. “I’ve always hated small town America. Everybody knows everything about you the second after it happens.”

         “Well, what about Shane?”

         “What about him? With me gone, it’ll be one less thing between him and his stupid football. He can move on with his life without a care in the world. He can pretend like this never happened,” she rubbed her belly as she spoke. “He never even wanted him to being with. I still remember the day I told him and the look on his stupid face.” Her eyes burned with a mixture of tears and anger at the thought.

         “Alright, alright,” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just meant…actually, I don’t know what I meant. C’mere,” he stretched out his arm and she laid her head on his shoulder.

         “I just don’t understand how someone could not want something they helped to create, you know?” She looked up at him, the tears still heavy in the bottoms of her eyes. “Shane’s gonna miss out on so much, and he doesn’t even care.” 

         “Shane wouldn’t know a good thing if it came up a punched him in the face,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t worry about him, okay? Stress isn’t good for the baby.” She snuggled closer to him, her eyes closed, and the fears drifting away. They stayed that way for a while before he broke the silence. “I’ll miss you.”

She pulled away from him, sitting upright, “I’ve gotta get going.” While sliding off the hood, a hand caught her arm.

         “Promise me something.”

         “What?”

         “Promise you’ll never forget me.”

She threw her arms around his neck, “Never. I’ll never forget you. You’re my best friend.” Her eyes and the collar of his shirt were wet when she finally pulled away.

He watched as she climbed behind the wheel of her daddy’s ford, his eyes following as she drove away. And when she was gone, he whispered, “I love you.”