Reason... Pt.6: With No Plan B (Rough Draft)

Reason... Pt.6: With No Plan B (Rough Draft)
by
L.A. Lutara

“...I'm not going to do it.”

I kneaded my forehead with the finger tips of my left hand.

“Sharon, listen-”

“I'm not.”

She sounded adamant. I had never heard her this adamant before. About anything. Not even with her no sex with no ring rule. This was serious.

“I told you what happened the last time. I'm not going to put myself through that again.”

I rolled onto my side. I didn't feel all that good. My head was pounding, my mouth was dry, my throat felt raw, my joints were aching and every inch of my skin was dripping with sweat. I felt like I had malaria. Fucking vodka man. I knew I had too much.

The 750ml bottle was empty by the time Richard had gotten home and I was babbling like an idiot. Not that I remember. Richard told me later, much later, when I told him about Sharon and everything that was going on. He had helped me with my jelly feet to my room and made sure that I fell onto my sturdy mattress and not face down on the floor. I was unconscious in moments. Didn't wake up until the following morning, the sun shining in my face, the sickening mixture of bile and vomit rising in my throat. Eyes snapping open I rolled over, hung my head over the edge of the bed and purged my stomach as best my body could. Lucky for the floor there was a red basin between it and a steady stream hot and steaming vomit.

Richard man, he was that type of room mate.

Once my stomach had stopped feeling like it was being wrung by a pair of herculean hands I rolled back over I wiped my mouth, my face and patted around for my phone. Finding it, squinting. I scrolled through my dialed numbers for Sharon's, found it, pressed call and put the phone up to my ear. Did some minute calculations as I waited for her to pick up. 7:00pm to 9:30ish am...that made about 14 ½ hours...I sighed. Relief, muscles relaxed, flick sweat from brow...she still had plenty of time.

Sharon picked up on like the sixth or seventh ring.

“Hello?”

Her voice was hoarse, she sounded tired...she must have been crying. I tried to soften my voice as much as possible without coming off as pillow talky.

“Hey...”

Pause. I cleared my throat. My voice had come out a croak. Too much vodka, too much puking and not enough water.

“How was your night?”

I almost heard her hold back a scoff as she said,

“Ive had better Ben...what do you want?”

“I...I...” I shook my head; didn't know how to say it without coming off like a complete asshole.

Please, that's never stopped you before...

I cleared my throat again and told her. I wanted her to take a morning after pill. She still had a good 58hours or so on the clock before it officially turned into a “situation”.

My ass hole alert went off but I kept on going.

If she didn't have any, I could stop by a pharmacy and bring some over. What say she?

“Fuck you Ben. I'm not going to do it.”

And the truth was there was nothing that I could do or say that could convince her otherwise.

Did I even remember what happened the last time?

Before we had opted for the injection, we had tried the infamous morning after pill. Once, when in the peak of passion, with an empty box of protector condoms peeking out from underneath the bed, I had gone in raw. Had tried to pull out but Sharon had clung onto me saying,

“No. I want you to come inside me. I want your seed inside of me.”

She had hooked her legs around me and raised her hips ensuring that I didn't go anywhere. We had gone out and gotten the pills the following morning. She had ended up in bed for two days afterwards. Vomiting, spitting and with one hell of a fever. The drugs, apparently, didn't agree with her...

And I wanted to put her through that again? Hell to the no.

“Whatever happens, happens.”

I let out a long and worried sigh. Rubbed at my eyes. I had to get her to take that pill. I was not going to go with 'Whatever happens, happens.' Hell to the fucking no.

“Sharon-”

“Ben. I've made my decision. It's my body and I'm not going to subject it to that. Now, if you have nothing else to say, I'm going to hang up now.”

She said nothing for a moment or three. She was waiting for me to say something. Sorry maybe? I don't know, but in any case, I kept my trap shut.

Sharon sighed. She must have realized that I wasn't going to say anything.

“Good bye Ben.”

And she hung up.

I stared at my phone for a moment or two. Let what had just happened sink in. Then leaning over the side of the bed, I puked again.