Saturday's Warrior"; $rpagehead="EXMORMON"; ?>
At Sacrament Meeting, I wondered if perhaps I shouldn't take the sacrament. It had been three days since the incident with Walter, and I hadn't even started repenting yet. I knew that you weren't supposed to take the sacrament if you had some big sin on your conscience that you hadn't repented of.
On the other hand, I figured that if I didn't take it, my parents would notice and they would ask me what was up. That was a question I really didn't want to deal with. In the end I figured that my big sin plus unworthily taking the sacrament didn't really amount to all that much more than the big sin alone without unworthily taking the sacrament, so I just took the sacrament as usual.
I wondered if Walter was having the same dilemma in his own ward at church. Of course he was probably clever enough to have already started repenting by this point, so he probably didn't have to worry about it.
When Walter saw me at Tuesday's rehearsal, he looked startled at first and flushed red. Then he immediately got a hold of himself and was back to his usual friendly manner. At least he was almost all the way back to his usual self. He seemed like he wanted to be as friendly and flirty with me as always, but he was a little off. He gave the impression that he was ashamed of the memory that my presence brought to his mind.
I hoped that at some point we would talk about what had happened so that we could work it out. I didn't want this to prevent us from ever having a relationship at any point in the future. I wished I could have some sort of affectionate reassurance from him -- nothing sexual,-- just a hug or something -- but I didn't see how that would be possible. I didn't dare suggest to him that we should go somewhere to talk privately because I was afraid he might think I was trying to tempt him again.
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Over the next week or so, I managed to put myself into complete denial about the very real danger of pregnancy. It was such a terrifying prospect that I couldn't bring myself to hold it in my mind. Until the day my period was due, I could tell myself that certainly it would come, and that it was foolish to think otherwise.
That is, I managed to tell myself that until the day it was due and it didn't come. Nor did it come the day after nor the day after. This threw me into a state of panic. I had never felt more terrified in my entire life, and this new terror was nonstop from morning until night with no hope of recovery on the horizon.
One thing I knew was that if I really was pregnant, there was no way I could carry it to term. I was only fifteen for heaven's sake! I was an honor student and had a brilliant future ahead of me. I cared about my education, and I didn't see that it would be possible for me to just continue to go to school like that. I would have to be sent away somewhere getting heaven-knows-what kind of substitute for schooling, and my education would probably never recover.
To get final confirmation, I managed to bite the bullet of my embarrassment and go out and buy a pregnancy test.
Of course it came out positive.
This dashed my last tiny shred of hope. I was like a zombie as I went to my gardening job that morning. As I got to working, I found that I just couldn't stop crying. I was glad that Sister Sanderson didn't happen to come out that day and see me.
On my way home from work I took a long detour to an anonymous garbage can to throw away the remains of the test and the wrapper where no one would find it who would trace it back to me.
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