Of Friendship and Tough Choices

Weeks went by, and there was no trace of Excel in school. Her group's presentation was in a few days but there was no sign of her anywhere. Was she just going to show up at the last minute, surprising everyone who thought of her as much as I did, or was she just going to let thirty marks pass her by, automatically carrying over the course?

I lowered my head, gazing at my phone's screen, lost in thoughts of how to reach her, ignoring the sermon the lecturer preached. I sighed as I dialed her number again, and it went straight to voicemail. It had been like that for the three weeks she'd missed classes. I sighed and tucked my phone back into my pocket, trying my best to get my attention back on what was being discussed in class.

The day got boring as thoughts of her clouded my mind. I was becoming pessimistic about the situation, and as much as I tried to debunk those thoughts, they kept coming back. Until she picked up her phone or sent a message, I was sure to remain restless.

I was still drying my hair when I heard light knocks at my door. I glanced at the clock, but it wasn't too late for anyone to show up after all. Quickly, I threw on a bathrobe and rushed to the door. There was no peephole, so I couldn't tell who it was. I slowly took off the deadbolt and pulled the door slightly open.

“Hey!” I gasped and pulled her inside, shutting the door firmly behind me. She had the look of someone who bore the problems of the world.

---

“I've been trying to reach you for the past three weeks. What happened?” My eyes are dissecting her and I noticed she had gained weight in the weirdest places. She eyed me and forced on a smile. “Things have been rough. Do you have food?” “Of course,” I asserted and hurried to the kitchen.

“I made porridge. I hope you like it,” I gave a wry smile as I handed her the food tray. She shook her head, “May your husband never have to sleep in the toilet from your cooking.” “Amen, hallelujah,” I chipped in, throwing my hands in the air.

We sat in silence as she scooped food into her mouth. She ate faster than usual, and all I did was stare as ‘what ifs’ formed a river in my mind.

“Surprisingly, it's not that bad,” she said as she put the tray down. “I'll take that as a compliment,” I returned, eyeing her stomach.

“It's a long story,” she sighed and adjusted on the bed. “Don't tell me it's what I'm thinking?” “I'm one month gone.” She sucked in a breath and buried her face in her palms. “Damnit. How could you let this happen in this age and time?” My chest was burning with rage. I felt unsettled. She was crying now. I wanted to punch the wall, but my knuckles were too fragile for such pressure.

“Does he know?” She nodded. “What's his stance?” She didn't look at me, “he wants me to keep it.” Her voice was muffled, and I could sense the pain in her tone. “Is he crazy? You have a whole life ahead of you, and he's asking you to keep it? How about school? You have a presentation in a few days. Looking at you, I can tell you're heavy. Maybe because we're really close, but I don't support his decision.” I finally breathed out, frantically pacing around the room.

“What do you want?” I towered over her, searching her eyes for truth even before she mustered courage to voice it out. My heart and head were pounding. I was scared her decision would hurt me.

The father of whatever was growing in her stomach seemed to me like someone who'd be a deadbeat dad. He never contributed anything to enrich Excel's life. All I knew he used her for was pleasure. He never, for once, got her anything tangible. Neither was she financially buoyant enough to care for herself much less a child. The sad part was that she's been ignoring the fact that he was a crimson red burning forest.

To be continued.

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