Page 31 of Size Queen
“You better noteverhide stuff like that from me!”
“Well, get ready to hear it all, then,” I say. “With all the hiding I’ll be doing from the agency and from Damon, I’ll need to do a lot of venting.”
“So, you’re really not going to tell Damon that you’re pregnant with his baby?” she asks, disapproval lacing her tone.
“I’m not sure,” I reply. “There’s a lot to think about.”
“Yeah, he’s loaded and could actually take care of you two,” she says. “Is the only reason you’re thinking of not telling him because he’s in charge of the Rolling Heads?”
“Do I need another reason other than that? What would you do if you got pregnant with Kace’s baby… would you tell him?”
She laughs. “I would never get pregnant by a guy in a gang for starters.”
“Hmph,” I whine. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“I think you should tell Damon that you’re pregnant,” she suggests. “The longer you wait, the more it’ll hurt. We both know you’re going to tell him at some point. Just do it now and rip the Band-Aid off.”
“I don’t know if I want to raise my baby aroundgangs!” I cry. “Maybe he has a right to know. Or maybe it’s better for the child if I stay as far away from his gang as possible. I have to admit, maybe it’s the realization that I’m no longer ‘alone’ that I now feel wary about going back to Damon’s clubhouse. Can you imagine the kind of scandalous shit that goes on that could potentially harm the baby?”
“Yes, I can actually,” Sabrina quips. “I see your point, but just because you tell Damon you’re pregnant doesn’t mean he’s going to suddenly get controlling or try to pressure you into something you don’t want.”
“Or, it could become exactly that,” I retort. “I don’t know that much about who Damon is as a person. He could just seem like a good guy because he’s been wanting to have sex.”
“You’ll never know for sure until you take the leap,” says Sabrina. “It’s the right thing to do. Whatever the future might hold.”
“I need you to promise not to say anything to anyone,” I insist. “You’re the only one who knows about this. Please keep this a secret—don’t say anything.”
“Noelle, I won’t tell a soul,” she promises. “But you should tell Damon.”
“I still need to figure out what I’m going to do and how I’m going to do it. I don’t mind being a single parent.”
“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself,” says Sabrina.
“I mean, it’s not just things about the baby,” I continue. “You need to be a certain size and a certain weight in our profession. Do you think they would put me on the backburner for however many months I’d need? What happens if I lose my contract with the agency? Then what? Modeling is all I’ve ever wanted to do.”
“Noelle, models get pregnant all the time,” Sabrina says, trying to calm me. “This doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re done with modeling. They like you! If you’re just straight with them from the beginning, they’ll probably understand.”
“Or, I could become an afterthought and not get called again and then never find modeling work again,” I groan. “I can’t think of one story where a model’s career skyrocketedaftera pregnancy. I think it’s over.”
“No, nothing’s over,” she says reassuringly. “You’re done whenyousay you’re done. The agency is not going to fire you, and youaren’tgoing to hide being pregnant. That would just be asinine.”
My best friend, seeing how upset and troubled I’ve become, puts a comforting arm around me. We stop and hug, putting the world on a brief pause.
The world resumes when the sounds of the ocean are interrupted by the sounds coming from my pocket. My cell phone is going off, and I’m sure it’s Damon without even having to confirm it.
By the time I pull my phone out of my pocket, it’s stopped ringing. I look at the screen: MISSED CALL – Damon Abrams
“Did he hang up?” Sabrina asks after seeing the caller ID.
“No, I didn’t pick it up in time. I wonder why he called…”
Then my phone starts ringing again: Damon Abrams, once again. I’m surprised. Generally, Damon doesn’t call twice in a row like this.
“Pick up!” Sabrina coaxes.
“I can’t!” I hold my phone like it could literally blow up.
I don’t answer. Damon’s call ends, and I instantly worry about a third call.