Her Choice, page 1
Her Choice
THE BELLEVUE BULLIES
TONI ALEO
Copyright © 2022 by Toni Aleo
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editing: Silently Correcting Your Grammar: Lisa Hollett - AS ALWAYS, THANK YOU!
Proofer: Jenny RaRden - THANK YOU!
Cover: Care Dee - THANK YOU!
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Contents
Introduction
Her Choice
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Also by Toni Aleo
About Toni Aleo
Introduction
BEFORE YOU GET STARTED!
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Her Choice
By Toni Aleo
Chapter One
Cameron
“Cam? You in there?”
I drag my hands down my body in pure hopelessness as I swallow a sob. The tile of our bathroom is cold, and it’s welcome against the backs of my thighs. Not only am I sore from practice, but since I can’t keep anything down, the coolness is helping my nausea.
“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been in there awhile. You didn’t drink milk, did you?”
God, I wish.
Any other time, any other moment, I would laugh my ass off at my roommate’s joke about my dairy issues. I’ve been lactose intolerant since birth, but that’s not the issue right now. I wish it were. Instead, in front of me sits a pregnancy test with the word PREGNANT in the window.
I force a laugh, though I feel as if I’ve fallen into a dark hole and can’t find my way out. “Ha-ha. No, my stomach is upset. I don’t think my lunch is sitting right.”
“Oh no! Do you need some Sprite?” Callie is the sweetest and the best roommate ever. “Or Tums?”
“I’m good. Thanks, Cal.”
“Okay,” she says sweetly. “Do you need me?”
I do, but what would I even say? How would I even explain this? It’s drilled into our heads during recruitment and even at our team meetings—do not get pregnant. Hell, all of us got the same birth control implants in our arms. We went together. It was a team-bonding exercise, and then we went for sushi afterward. I had an allergic reaction to the implant, so I switched to the pill, but I take it religiously. I don’t understand.
“Aren’t you meeting Evan? I thought y’all were looking at apartments?”
“We are,” she says, and I’m sad all over again. I was hoping to room with her next year, but I should have known once Evan Adler walked into her life, she was going to be a goner. He is a good egg, and he loves her a lot. Which she deserves. We’re only required to live on campus our freshman year. Though, most of the time, since our team housing is so awesome, people don’t leave. But then, no one is dating someone like Evan. I would leave this housing so quickly to live with someone like him.
Dreamboat.
“Okay. Then go, I’m good. Just gonna poop some more.”
She laughs. It’s so carefree and happy. It usually makes me smile, but right now, I’m freaking the hell out. “Call me if you need me to get something for ya.”
“Thanks, Cal.”
“No problem.” She taps on the door as a goodbye, and I slide down the wall while the tears slide down my face. My heart is beating so hard that my chest hurts. I don’t even know how this happened. I mean, I know how babies are made, but I’m smart. I make sure the guy wears condoms, and I’m on birth control. How is that not enough to make sure I don’t get pregnant? How is this even possible? I thought maybe it was a mistake, but in the trash are four of the other positive pregnancy tests. I toss the one I just took in there, wrapping it up in a bag and tucking it under my legs. I’m not done crying, and I sure as hell don’t know what to do.
I’m not even sure I want kids. Yeah, they’re cute and all, but I want to make sure my career is established and I have a partner to raise the kids with. Damn it, this is so frustrating. I’ve worked so hard for my collegiate sports career. I started gymnastics at eight, which is late for some, but I climbed through the levels of gymnastics to make my dreams come true. Despite how much my body wanted to quit and how hard it was mentally, I fought. I have always wanted to be a college gymnast. Not only for the love and fun of gymnastics, but for the sisterhood. I love my teammates, and we are family. Yet why do I feel so alone?
I reach for my phone on the counter as I blow snot into a towel. As I throw it down, I open my contacts to call my mom. I’m terrified and I don’t know how she is going to take this, but my mom is honestly my best friend. Surely she’ll have some advice.
She answers right away, her bubbly voice filling the line. “Hey, baby doll!”
“Mom,” I say with a sob, and insane concern immediately fills her voice.
“Cam?”
Within seconds, my FaceTime is ringing, and when I answer it, her eyes are wide. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
Another sob racks me as my body shakes. I try to talk, but it isn’t working. I can’t form words, even though I know what I need to say. I start to take in little spurts of air, and I can tell she is trying not to freak out. “Cammy, baby doll, breathe. It’s okay. Breathe.”
She starts to breathe with me, forcing me to regulate my breaths as I close my eyes, feeling like I have no control over anything. I lean the phone on the leg of the pedestal sink, and I rub my face hard, trying to rub the fear out of my body. When I open my eyes, my mom is watching me, and I wish she were here.
“Take your time, my love. It’s okay. No matter what, you can achieve anything.”
I close my eyes once more, and her positivity brings on my guilt. All the time and money she has spent on my career may be down the drain. Oh my God, I hope she isn’t mad.
“Mom, I’m pregnant,” I blurt out, and her jaw drops as another sob leaves my lips. “And I don’t understand how this happened because he used a condom and I’m on birth control.”
I want to say more, but I don’t want to make the situation even worse. She has to know I am scared, that I am freaking out, that I’m seeing my whole life circling the drain. A baby is supposed to be a happy occasion. But for one, I don’t love its dad, and for two, I don’t want a child right now. Or ever. I don’t know. It’s not fair; I did everything I’m supposed to.
She drops her head in her hands, and she shakes it slowly. I don’t have to see her face to know she is disappointed. “Oh, Cameron,” she says, and I know she’s upset. She never calls me Cameron. It’s always baby doll or different variations on my name. Fuck me. “Remember when I told you to be careful when you were on those antibiotics? For that sinus infection?”
I wrinkle my face in confusion. “Yeah. What does that have to do with this?”
“Cameron, when you’re on antibiotics, it can mess with your birth control.”
I break out in another sob. “That is the stupidest, most unfair thing in the world!”
“The world isn’t fair, baby doll.”
She’s got that right.
My body shakes with another sob. “Mom, what do I do?”
I meet her gaze, and she looks just as hopeless as I do. “I mean, your spot on the team will be gone if you don’t show up at summer training camp.”
I drop my head into my hands. I know this, but maybe… She starts talking again. “I know it says in the contract that you can apply again—and I know you’ll get back on—but that’s only with a medical issue or an injury. Pregnancy is not a reason for taking a year off. I’ll ask Daddy to get some sort of note from a colleague. Lord knows he’s fibbed to help them a time or two.” I swallow hard as she continues. When she gets anxious, she taps her lip, and it’s almost as if I can see the thoughts racing through her mind. “We’ll help you and get you where you need to be. I’ll raise the baby until you are able to.”
My heart aches as I whisper, “Or I could get an abortion.”
Her finger stops mid-tap as she meets my gaze. “An abortion?”
“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “Why bring a child into this world that I don’t want.”
“Because it’s God’s will.”
I press my lips together. “But it’s not mine.”
“Cameron, when I got pregnant with you, I didn’t abort you.”
She can’t even hide the pain in her eyes. “No, Mom, but you struggled with carrying and raising a rapist’s child.”
Her look mirrors mine, her lips pressed together and her eyes full of tears. “I love you.”
“I know, and I love you more than I could ever put into words. Honestly, Mom, I do. But it is unfair that you were forced to have a child by your family because it’s ‘God’s will,’ and then when you had me, you were not taken care of. I know you’ve still got resentment, Mom. I know you blamed your pregnancy with me as the reason you were never able to conceive with Daddy.”
Tears roll down my mom’s face, and each one is like a knife in my back. My mom was molested and raped by the pastor of her church when she was seventeen. She was told she had to have the baby; he promised if she never told, he would take care of her. When I was born, he took his wife and family to another city, and she never heard from
“How dare you tempt a man of God?”
He was forty-one.
She was seventeen.
I have feelings about this.
My mom struggled, oh-so badly, for seven years. She would work any job with me on her back, or with me under the table coloring or drawing when she had her bank job. No, she wasn’t a teller. She was a custodian. I remember when Grandma White walked in to do some banking business and saw me on the bench, reading. She sat beside me and asked where my parents were. I told her I had no daddy, but my momma was over there, cleaning the window. My mom made all her own cleaning solutions, and soon, they got into a discussion about it. I remember watching them laugh and carry on.
That night, when we got to McDonald’s, my mom told me that Grandma White had asked her to come clean at her property. How it was an incredible opportunity, and she was excited. I was excited because she was.
But nothing could have prepared me for that property. Four mansions sat on that estate, and the gardens reminded me of the queen’s gardens in Alice in Wonderland. They had a mansion for each son and then one for Grandma and Grandpa White. Everything screamed old blue blood money, and I was scared to even touch anything.
So, I didn’t.
I’d sit in my corner, or I’d go out in the gardens to play.
It’s crazy how my life began compared to now and all the amazing things that have happened in between. But nothing can ever touch the first time I saw him.
My daddy. Charles White.
I didn’t even know my mom had given me one of his shirts when I’d spilled grape juice on mine. When he walked up to me, an eye cocked and an easy smile on his face, I wasn’t scared; I felt at ease. My daddy is a charmer, and he loved me from the jump.
He always tells people, “I knew she was special the moment I saw her in my Metallica shirt, but nothing, and I mean nothing, could have prepared me for when I saw my LillyJane.”
It’s a real rags-to-riches love story and one of my favorites. I don’t think I’ll ever have a love story like theirs, but a girl can dream. Mom and Daddy have loved me hard, and sometimes I think it’s because they couldn’t have any more kids. Sometimes I feel like I was blamed for that. Mine wasn’t an easy birth and she was so young, but she never came out and told me that. Apparently, Daddy is infertile too.
“Cameron, that’s all in the past.”
“Yes, but this is my future, and I refuse to have a child that I’ll resent. I know it’s not my fault, but this isn’t what I want. And that may be selfish, but I don’t want this to not be an option. I know I am taken care of, I know you and Daddy would move mountains for me, and for this baby. But I’m not ready to move mountains for anyone but myself. I’m not ready to be a mom.”
“I told you we’d raise the baby, Cam,” she says, her voice flat.
“But I don’t want you to, nor do I want to give up a year of my college career. I’ve worked so hard for this.”
“Cameron, this baby was conceived for a reason.”
“Yeah, faulty birth control and super sperm from its dad.”
I’m met with silence, and my stomach twists. “Have you told the father?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I don’t know if I will.”
“Cameron. You need to. At least see what he wants to do. Maybe if you had some support, you’d feel better.”
“It’s not about support, Mom. I don’t need anyone for that. It’s about my dreams and aspirations. A child will not add to those right now, and that’s not fair to it.”
I’m met with a disappointed silence and a look that makes it clear she is not happy. “I want you to think long and hard about this before you make the decision.”
“I know, Mom,” I say, wiping my face.
“And know that I love you, no matter what,” she says, holding my gaze. “But I don’t agree with an abortion. I understand that you don’t want to lose your career, but maybe you should not have had sex.”
I close my eyes, and I know that the anger burning inside me is brought on by fear.
And that my mom is being kinda bitchy.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have. But I did, and now I have to figure this out.”
“Yes, you do.”
We stare at each other for a while, and then I decide to end the call without saying goodbye. One reason being because my heart is broken, and the other is because I feel betrayed by her. Doesn’t she want better for me? I know she didn’t get to choose, but I do have the choice.
Shouldn’t I be able to make it?
Chapter Two
Benson
I carry the puck up the ice, my lungs burning and my heart pounding in my chest. This is just a practice, but playing for Jayden Sinclair is no joke. He is an alumnus of the University of Bellevue, and he also played in the NHL until injury made him retire. He has a chip on his shoulder now, and he is dead set on proving to everyone that he is not done with hockey. Not only is he driven, but he has a structure like no other. He isn’t here to play around. He wants a winning team, and if you aren’t here to win, get the fuck off the ice.
He said that.
Day one.
He may be a nice guy off the ice, a family man who loves hard, but on the ice, he is the boss. We will be our best, or again, get the fuck off the ice. It’s that simple, which is why it’s hard for me not to be on every time I skate on this ice. I want my dream. The NHL.
I was blessed with the opportunity to live and train with the greatest hockey family in the world, the Adlers. Being in the USA, not only do I miss my family in Quebec, but I am reminded daily why I am here. The NHL. That’s it. I come from a very poor background, and the only reason I was able to play hockey, a very expensive sport, is because of town funding. Thankfully, I’m a natural talent, and then I was lucky enough to be chosen by the Adlers through a billet program for hockey players who want to play in the USA.
Things have been moving a million miles a second since I arrived here. It’s been a whirlwind, but I love the US and I love hockey. Plus, the food is good and the girls are hot. As I go top shelf on our goalie, hitting the back of the net, I skate back, jumping on the defense. This is endurance training; we don’t stop. We continue to play, and though I can’t breathe, I won’t give up. As I skate back, I notice a very special someone sitting in the stands. My billet mom, Elli Adler. She is a proud mom of five—and then me. I swear, the moment I came into her home, I was her child. She has learned French for me, and while she’s not that good, I still appreciate the gesture. She has done it mostly to communicate with my mom and dad. She cooks all my favorite foods and doesn’t make me do my own laundry. My parents love her, and I do too. Very much so.
I flash her a grin, but only for a second before my eyes are back on the play. When a teammate tries to deke around me, I poke check the puck and carry it up the ice on a breakaway, hitting the back of the net with ease. It’s kind of unfair that I’m up against the backup goalie, but I’m enjoying the goals. It’s the end of the year, and most teams aren’t practicing at all, but Coach Sinclair says hockey is a year-round sport. He may be onto something. I’m used to taking breaks, but I can tell I’m getting better with the extra ice time.
I am going home in a few weeks for the summer, but Elli and Coach have already set up transportation and coaching for the next town over. I’ll train all summer while still working on my family’s llama farm.
Things weren’t good when my family found out I was coming to America. They wanted me to play in Canada, but I needed to get out. My brothers played, but I had to go. Since I’ve been gone, though it’s taken time, we’ve smoothed everything over and are speaking again.
It’ll be a busy summer, but I’m looking forward to it. I like having things to do. Our town has three hundred people, and the next-closest farm is twenty-four miles away. It can get lonely at home. Especially now that only my mom and dad are there since my other brothers have moved away.
