“How can I help you?” He pleaded with her. As if pleading would help. If it would, she’d get down on her knees herself and give it a go.
“You can’t.” Oh hell. She’d spoken out loud and the tears welled up, unbidden. “All I ever wanted to do was be a midwife. My whole life…”
The words stuck in her throat. She couldn’t tell him. It was just too humiliating. If there was such a thing as math-dyslexia, she was sure she had it. She forgot everything she’d ever learned when it came to numbers, even just after someone had showed her the right way to do a problem. She looked up at him, feeling tears slipping down her cheeks, the slight tremble in her chin.
“Aw sweetheart…” His voice was soft, his eyes too.
“I’m just stupid, okay? I can’t…”
She couldn’t. Not anymore, not for one minute more.
He called after her when she bolted but she didn’t stop. She didn’t stop when he came after her, his voice echoing in the now nearly empty hallway. She didn’t stop when she rounded the corner and nearly knocked over Shelby talking to the cute guy who sat in front of her with the Justin Bieber haircut. She didn’t stop until she made it to the women’s bathroom and locked herself into the stall, breathing hard and sobbing like it was going to turn her inside out.
She didn’t even hear the girl in the other stall, not at first. Not until Bailey had calmed down a little, blown her nose with toilet paper, and wiped her eyes. Then she heard it—a long, low groan that grew louder and then faded to a throaty “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Bailey sniffed. Apparently she wasn’t the only one with problems. Maybe she should invite her sister-in-suffering home for ice cream. Then she heard a stall opening, water running. Good. The girl was leaving. Bailey could suffer as she usually did—alone.
“Ohhhhh no no no, not again!”
Bailey sat bolt upright, eyes wide. She’d just heard that voice—hadn’t she? Wasn’t it the same girl who’d told her to fuck off?
“Fuuucccckkk!” The voice was almost a wail.
Yeah. It was the same girl. Bailey was sure of it. Had she been in here, sick the whole time? She opened her own stall to peer out, seeing the girl bent over the sink. Bailey had left her in a similar position. But she was determined not to leave her now. The girl obviously needed help. Bailey was about to ask, but the girl started to wail again, rocking and grabbing onto the edge of the sink so hard her knuckles were white.
She took a step toward the girl and she realized in that instant what all the groaning was about. All the baggy black clothing—a long skirt and peasant blouse—had hidden it from her.
“When are you due?” Bailey put her backpack down and took off her jacket, edging closer to the girl whose forehead rested against the mirror now, her breath fogging it in short, harsh pants.
“Right about now.” The goth didn’t open her eyes. “It’s been going on all day but I thought I could get through… ohhhhh fuck fuck fuck!”
Bailey glanced at her watch—like any good wannabe nurse, she wore an analog with a true second hand—putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder as she struggled through another contraction, her forehead bent to the mirror. The rising moan caught in her throat at the point of highest pain. Bailey noted the catch, the breath-holding, and the low grunt with a dawning feeling of dread.
“First baby?” Probably a stupid question, Bailey told herself, but she had to ask. If it was a first baby, they likely had plenty of time, even if the girl was dilated to ten. Pushing could take hours for a first. A second baby, however…
“Third,” the girl gasped, moaning softly as she turned, her back to the wall now, facing Bailey. “Fuck, this isn’t happening.”
Third? Bailey looked at the girl, wondering if she’d misjudged her age.
The goth’s eyes opened wide in sudden surprise and she yelped, glancing down at the fluid pooling between her feet.
“Your water broke.” Bailey’s heart thudded in her chest and her stomach dropped to the floor. “I think we better call an ambulance.”
“I’m not sure we have time.” The goth’s eyes were so wide they were like silver coins, her blue eyes bright, surrounded by black coal. “My second came in three pushes.”
Three. Bailey assessed the situation quickly, grabbing her cell phone out of her backpack and cursing when she saw no bars.
“Ohhhhhh nooooooo!” The goth girl covered her face with her arms, sinking down the wall as another relentless contraction hit. “This isn’t happening! This isn’t happening!”