Pregnant For My Bully

Amelia Forbes

It started during the first period after lunch, in math class. The weird looks and knowing stares. At first, I shrugged it off, ignoring them and taking my regular seat, just beside the window that overlooked the football field. But as the classes rolled by, the stares kept getting worse and worse and I even heard someone make an odd remark, one I couldn’t quite grasp.

The blonde had said from behind me, just before our Physics teacher came in, “And here I was thinking she was different.”

I didn’t understand. Was she talking about me? Figuring it was probably just a conversation between her and her friend, I shrugged and focused on the lesson at hand, the only thought on my mind being how to face Jason. And beg him, if I had to, not to tell anyone about what had happened with us.

He hadn’t been at the cafeteria today-pretty much the only period I had with him today being Monday-which I found odd and weird. And upsetting too. Jason had never missed lunch. It wasn’t like he ate outside the school. Today, of all days, when I needed him to be around, to be in the cafeteria, he wasn’t.

It was, at the moment, in the last period of the day, and was already counting down the minutes to the end of class. All I wanted to do, all that’d been on mind, was bolting right out of the class, searching for Jason and putting things right with him.

The moment the bell went, I grabbed my stuff, shoved it into my backpack and shot up from my seat as though it had gone metal hot. I dashed out of the class, headed for Jason’s class-History-which, for some reason, I knew he was in.

I was on the steps, heading down to the last floor where his class was located when, all of a sudden, a voice called me, stopping me in my tracks.

“Amelia!” The voice yelled, some feet behind me.

Turning around, my eyes fell on Benson, walking up to me, a weird look on his face, his hair unusually tousled. Not to mention, he’d called me by my full name.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, climbing back onto the landing and moving to the side to give room for other people passing by.

Grabbing me by the wrist, Benson pulled me further aside, to a corner far from the staircase where less students were.

“I told you you shouldn’t have trusted Jason,” he started off, a worried look on his face.

“I don’t understand, Ben. What’s going on? What happened?” I asked, confused.

“Wait,” he frowned. “You . . . you haven’t heard? Seen?”

“Heard what? Seen what, Benson?” My voice rose, mind on a not-so-slow journey to panic.

For a moment, Benson hesitated.

“What the hell is going on?!” I yelled then.

“You really haven’t seen,” he muttered, lowering his gaze from me. Then he looked up again. “The video, Amelia. You haven’t seen the video? Or heard of it?”

“What video?” I stared at him.

“On Leila’s vlog. She posted it today during lunch, and it has almost five hundred views already. I can’t believe you really haven’t seen the video.”

My eyebrows knitted. “What has a video got to do with me?”

“It has everything to do with you!” He burst out immediately. “Heck, the video is about you.”

“I don’t understand,” I muttered, trying to piece two and two together, and getting nothing.

“You need to see it.” Benson told me. “You need to see the video, so you can understand what I’m talking about.”

“Well, then show me,” I snapped, sick of the suspense. “Show me the goddamn video already.”

Hesitantly, he sighed and reached into his pocket.

“I saved it,” he said. “Just in case you haven’t seen it.”

Unlocking his phone, he tapped the video icon and the last video he watched popped up immediately, starting from the middle.

“Here.” He held out his phone to me, looking away as he did so.

I took the phone from him, anticipation eating at my mind. I dragged the motion line to move the video back to the beginning and then I began watching.

At first, I couldn’t make out anything from the video because the room was sort of dark, then, as if the person behind the camera had moved a little, more light filtered into the room, and I quickly realized the room was actually a bathroom. With two people in it, who appeared to be making out.

“Okay, so it’s a bathroom with kissing couples, so?” I frowned, still watching the video.

“Just,” Benson exhaled. “Just keep watching the video, Mel.”

I refocused my attention on the video and only then did things begin to make sense, starting from the moment I recognized the guy to be Jason. And the girl to be . . . me.

On realizing this, I gasped, a hand flying to cover my mouth. My face, expressions, in the video was clear for everyone to see, while Jason had his back to the camera. Every sound, every moan I made, every pleasured look on my face was recorded. And the video didn’t just stop there. It carried on to the moment Jason took off my shirt, kissed my breast-although the scene was blurred so you couldn’t really see much there, but you knew that it was me. The video ended with a final gasp from me as Jason’s hand slid down my jumpsuit.

With the end of the video came a dawning. A new understanding of the looks I’d gotten all the while today after lunch and the reason for Jason’s absence.

“I told you not to trust Jason, Mel. I told you.” Benson’s voice came to me as though from underwater. “People like Jason, they never change. And even if they do, it takes more than just one night.”

“Why would he do this to me?” Was the first thing that fell through my lips, my mind racing, hands trembling. I had a sex tape now on the internet. Everyone in school had seen me, heard me, and it was all because of Jason. All because I was too trusting. Too foolish to believe that he could ever change.

“Why would he do this to me?” I repeated, tears welling up in my eyes.

Slowly, Benson took his phone from my hand.

“Everyone has seen this,” I whispered, looking up at him. “And their . . . perception of me . . .”

All of a sudden, he stepped forward and took me in a hug. “I’m sorry, Mel. Honestly, it’s not your fault, so don’t blame yourself.”

“No.” I ripped away from his hug, suddenly infuriated. “It is my fault, Benson. To think that Jason could ever change. To think I could be friends with the popular click. And now I have a sex tape out there for everyone to see. How could I be so stupid?! What was I thinking?!”

“Amelia, calm down,” Benson said, reaching out to hold me.

“Calm down?” I stared at him, teary-eyed. “I’ve been bullied, deceived, used, shamed, and now I should calm down?”

I was yelling now. “Look at the video, Ben. Jason’s face was in no part. No fucking part! He used me, all for what? A good laugh?! Another means to torture me?”

“What we need to do now is report to Mrs Jenkins, so she can tell Leila to take it down and then do something to Jason,” Benson suggested.

“And then what?” I stared at him, my jaw quivering. “Jason gets off with community service? But the stigma still remains with me? How could I be so stupid.”

My hands flying to my hair, I pulled. Pulled really hard. “How could I be so fucking stupid?”

“Amelia, stop it!” Benson shouted, grabbing my hands. “You’re panicking. You have to try and calm down.”

“No!” I screamed, yanking my hands out of his grip. I knew he was only trying to help, but right now, nothing was getting past my stunned mind.

“What I need to do,” I said through gritted teeth, “is give Jason a fucking piece of my mind.”

With that, I turned away from him and started down the steps, headed for the field.

“Jeez, Amelia,” Benson called. “Wait a minute, just think about things first!”

Getting to the last of the stairs, chest heaving, face wet with tears, I marched to the field where I knew Jason would be.

I spotted him as soon as I got to the field, standing beside Coach Hens and talking coolly, like he’d done nothing. Like he wasn’t aware of the video.

“Jason!” I shouted, stomping over to him.

He whipped his gaze in my direction as soon as he heard his name. On spotting me, he lips curled into a smirk, knowing brown eyes going cold.

If there was any thought left behind in my mind that he had no part in the recording of the video, it was quickly wiped from my mind by his smirk.

“How could you?” I spat, eyes, although blurry from tears, fixed on him.

“I take it you’ve seen the video,” he smiled, placing his hands on his hips. “You put up quite a show, you know that right?”

I didn’t know what it was, probably the fact that I felt so betrayed and stupid and dumb, and couldn’t control my anger toward myself, Jason and the world for taking my mom and dad away from me, but by the next moment, I’d balled my hand into a fist and punched Jason square in his teeth.

Following the outburst from his team members was Coach Hens’s own.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, what’s going on here?” He frowned, coming to stand between Jason and I.

“Did you just punch me?” Jason stared at me, a hand to mouth.

“You set me up!” I yelled. “Bullying me, treating me like I’m worth nothing wasn’t enough for you, so you set me up. What have I ever done to you, Jason, that you have to treat me this way?”

My voice broke at my last words, tears streaming down my face now.

“What is going on here?!” Coach Hens yelled this time.

By now everyone present in the field had gathered around to get the gist of what was happening.

“Can someone tell me what the heck is going on here?” Coach Hens repeated.

Unable to speak, my eyes remained on Jason, who had his eyes on me too, a deep, deep scowl on his face.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

“He set her up, Coach,” Benson said all of a sudden from behind me.

All attention, including mine and Jason’s, flew to him.

“He invited her to his party,” Benson went on. “Told her to a game and took advantage of her drunken state, made a video of her and then uploaded it for everyone to see.”

I had never loved Benson more. When I needed him the most, he was there, standing up for me when I couldn’t do it myself.

There was an outburst from the silent crowd at the end of Benson’s words.

“What?”

It was from Adrian.

Coach Hens turned to look at Jason.

“Did you really do that?” He asked.

Jason remained silent, now staring daggers at Benson.

“Answer me before I fuck you up this moment!” Coach Hens exploded.

Finally, Jason dropped his hand from his mouth and moved his gaze to Coach. As he spoke, I noticed a small cut on the inside of his lower lip. I had gotten him pretty good.

“I did,” he admitted.

“What the hell?” Adrian scowled, reaching out and shoving Jason’s arm. “How the fuck could you do something like that?”

“That’s enough, Goldfield.” Coach Hens stepped in. Then he turned to face Jason squarely.

“I can’t believe you could, would do such a thing,” he said, glaring at him. “I thought you were mature, Jason. What kind of a ‘man’ would do that?”

“She de-” Jason began when Coach cut in.

“Get off my field,” he growled.

“What?” Jason blinked. “You-you can’t do that.”

“Oh, yes, I very much can,” Coach Hens nodded. “Get the hell out and don’t come back until next week.”

“But, Coach-”

“Now!” He burst out.

For moments, Jason hesitated before looking away from Coach Hens.

“And before you’re able to return, you’ll write an apology to her and read it out in the general assembly on Friday morning,” Coach added.

Jason stopped abruptly and turned around. “Nah. I’m not doing that.”

“Then consider yourself off the team!” Coach yelled.

I saw Jason’s face harden and his jaw tic before he turned around and stalked off.

“I’m sorry about that boy,” Coach Hens said to me. “My sincere apologies. I’ll make sure to have the video taken down.”

Nodding, I wiped my tears away. “Thank you.”

“Come on, Mel, let’s go home,” Benson said, taking my hand and pulling me away from the gossip-hungry group.

For the first time in a long while, I felt like someone had my back. And I cherished the feeling.