Ten minutes.
Pizzazz glanced up at the en-suite clock for the hundredth time,
watching the second hand tick round another circuit. She bit her lip,
her gaze darting between the test and the clock, but still she didn't
move. Another circuit wound round on the clock, and still she sat on
the edge of the bath, unable to bring herself to look.
At length, she could bear it no longer. Getting slowly to her feet, she
swallowed hard, quelling her apprehension as she approached the sink.
She chewed on her lip, reaching out to pick it up and holding it behind
her back as she gathered her composure.
"You're behaving like a wimp." She muttered. "Get a grip on yourself,
girl! You're a Misfit, not a mouse!"
After repeating her pep-talk to herself three more times, she steeled
herself, bringing the test into her line of vision.
A cry escaped her lips as she took in the sight before her, registering
the deep blue line that had spread across the white stick. The test
slipped from her grasp, falling to the floor as she sank back against
the en-suite door. A wave of nausea flooded her senses and she closed
her eyes, clenching her fists so hard that her nails dug into her
hands. For a moment she let her panic rule her, and then, as shards of
sense returned, she took a deep breath, steadying herself.
"I can't be."
She spoke the words aloud, as if trying to convince herself that they
were true. With some hesitation, she reached across the tiles to
retrieve the fallen stick, gazing at it with disbelief. "This isn't
real. This is...it's a dream. Or a nightmare. A damn nightmare!"
She got to her feet, pulling open the en-suite door and padding dazedly
into the bedroom, retrieving the box and the inner packaging from her
bed and idly pushing them together in her grip. Glancing down at her
hands, she realised she was trembling, and she bit her lip, shaking her
head slowly.
"I can't be." She echoed. "Can I? Dammit...
can I?"
She cast a look at the test, knitting her brows.
"Either way, I have to get rid of this." She realised. "Before someone
sees. Before Matilda sees...before one of the others gets home."
Pulling a carrier bag from her bin, she pushed the test inside,
scrunching it up as small as she could. Dropping the parcel down onto
the bed, she ran into the en-suite to wash her hands before scooping it
up again, heading down the back stairs once more to where the
household's big waste disposal unit stood. Flipping up the latch, she
tossed the bag inside, pressing hard on the button and listening with
little pleasure to the creaks of the wheels turning inside, mashing it
into an unrecognisable mess.
She took a deep breath, composing herself.
"It's gone. It's done." She said quietly. "Calm down. It doesn't mean
you are. They can be wrong - you know that. It could just be a fluke. A
faulty test."
"Miss Gabor?"
Matilda's voice startled her and she swung around, staring blankly at
her housekeeper. Matilda frowned.
"I didn't know you were home...are the others with you or are you
alone?"
"I'm alone." Pizzazz gathered the shreds of her composure. "I came back
to get something, that's all. Did you need me?"
"No, I was just surprised to see you." Matilda smiled at her, and for
an instant Pizzazz was tempted to burst into tears and confess all to
the woman who had been the closest thing to a mother she had had
throughout her turbulent childhood. The thought was gone almost as soon
as it had come, however, and she returned the smile with a guarded one
of her own.
"Well, don't bother about it." She said, with considerably more
flippance than she felt. "I'll be out of your hair soon enough, no
doubt."
With that she was gone back up the stairs before her composure broke,
leaning up against the wall for a moment to catch her breath, then
fleeing the rest of the way upstairs. Retreating into her room once
more, she locked and bolted the door, pushing her chair up against it
as she sank down onto her bed, laying back on her pillows and closing
her eyes. As she lay there, her initial daze and panic gave way to
anger, and she muttered a string of unrepeatable words under her breath.
"Goddamn Eric." She muttered, clenching her fists and glaring up at the
ceiling as she did so. "Damn him! He's had the last laugh after all! No
wonder he's fled to Canada, the coward! I'd rip his head off! I'd
castrate the bastard if I had him here! How dare he do this to me?
How dare he!"
She chewed on her lip, trying to compose her thoughts.
"I have to get rid of it." She realised. "As soon as possible...sooner,
even. If it's not a mistake...well, I can't take that chance. I mean, I
can't do this. I need to think this through...work this out...work out
how best to do this. And dammit, nobody must know. Nobody! Least of
all...oh God, least of all Daddy. What would he do to me, if he knew?
What would he
say?"
She swallowed hard, pulling herself into a sitting position and casting
a glance across the room to the waste paper bin. The calendar was long
gone, however, and she sighed, leaning across to pull open the drawer
of her cabinet and rooting around inside for the slim black date book
she kept there. Flicking it open, she turned back the pages, to the day
when Jetta had first broken to her the news of Eric's embezzlement. A
chill touched her heart as she considered all that had happened in the
weeks since.
"It wasn't food poisoning." She whispered. "It was this. I'm late on.
I'm never this late on, but with everything going on I didn't think
about it. I've been dizzy. I damn well passed out at work. I've not
been sleeping right. Oh goddammit, there are too many coincidences. And
there's only one guy who could've done it. There's only been Eric since
my accident...it has to be him. Damn, how could I be so
stupid! And careless...God, that's
not like me. Not at all! I'm always careful. Always. But...obviously
not careful enough. Not this time."
She ran fingers through her thick wavy hair, glancing through the diary
as she did so.
"I lost my mind and did one stupid thing, and this is what happens!"
She muttered, slamming the book shut and tossing it across the bedroom
in a sudden fit of pique. "One lousy mistake! That's all! Does noone
cut a girl any slack any more? That jackass gets to run off to his new
life in Canada with a lot more money than is rightfully his and me? The
one he screwed over? I get this! Dammit, who makes the rules up there,
anyway! What goddamn chauvenist decided that would be a fair
settlement?"
At this, the tears finally came and she flung herself down into her
pillow, sobbing bitterly.
"I can't go through this." She whispered. "What do I do? Who do I tell?
Do I tell anyone? Can I deal with this without anyone finding me out?
Oh, but I just can't let them...what they'd say, how they'd look at me!
I have to keep it a secret! I just
have
to!"
Part Four: Desperate Times
Chapter One: Recovery
Chapter Two: Harvey
Chapter Three: A Disturbing Realisation
Chapter Four: Shock
Chapter Five: Complications
Chapter Six: New Year's Eve
Chapter Seven: Bombshell
The Boring Disclaimer:
Pizzazz is not my character - she and the Misfits
were created by Hasbro and given life by Christy Marx and the writers
of the Jem series. However, the events, concepts and plotline contained
in this story is my own and may not be duplicated. Justin, Alan and
any character not featured in the Jem cartoon are entirely my creation
and are also not to be duplicated anywhere else.