I was pregnant, or at least I thought I was. I hadn't had a pregnancy test, but I had gained a whole lot of weight in the stomach area, I had awful abdominal pains, and I felt something kicking inside of me on occasion. I was taking a health class in summer school, and the professor was very excited that I was going to be the focal point of the unit on the reproductive system. Everyone thought my baby was going to be due right before final exam time. I wasn't sure how they had figured this out, but, for some reason, I took their word on it.
Meanwhile, I spent my spare time going back to being thirteen. I have no idea how I was able to do this, but I was fairly good at switching back and forth between years. I kept going back in time to visit a guy I know from online. He and I didn't know each other when I was thirteen, but in the dream, we were good friends. I didn't want anyone else to know we were friends, though, because I knew everyone thought he was weird. We were going to a summer camp together; it was held in a discount store. Looked like a Target. Everyone ran around the aisles all day. He kept trying to run off with me and tell me all his political theories. He said he had plans for how he was going to take over all the world's governments.
Everyone in the camp was working on a play together, and somehow he and I ended up on the set design committee. He used building sets as a way to get me alone with him so he could tell me more of his top-secret plans. However, he also liked singing "Jets Song" from West Side Story. He did this often. His favorite band, though, was some group I'd never heard of. He told me he didn't like their music; instead, he agreed with their political theories. He slipped out of the discount store summer camp one day to go see them in concert, and he persuaded me to sneak out with him. However, when we had walked across the street to the concert venue, I realized I didn't have a ticket. He went in without me.
Then I was back to the present year. I was standing at a lake with two girls from my summer school health class when I felt a kick in my stomach and thought it was time for me to give birth. Everyone in the class was really exicted and prepared to take notes while watching me have my baby. I was scared; I was going to give birth in the basement of my house, and I knew I wouldn't have an anesthetic.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor of my (unfinished) basement. I was looking down at myself on the floor, however. I was surrounded by not only the people in my class, but also by Homer, Marge, Bart, and Lisa Simpson. My class instructor was saying, "Just let it come out naturally, Laurie," but I was determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. I pushed and pushed, but nothing came out.
"Hmm," one of the girls in the class said. "I guess you weren't pregnant after all."
Everyone was disappointed. And I still had a good deal of extra weight and abdominal pains that I couldn't explain.
One of the girls from my summer school class took me aside. She said she had to give me a blood test. I said I hated blood tests.
"This'll barely hurt," she said. "Just give me your finger."
She held me down on the cold concrete basement floor. Then she pricked my left thumb.
"It hurts!" I screamed. "You said it wouldn't hurt!"
"It's not supposed to," she said. "Just let me get a vial of blood from you."
I was squirming in her grip, hitting the back of my head on the floor. My thumb was stinging, and I realized I hadn't told the girl to prick my right them instead of my left thumb. I was worried I wouldn't be able to write for a while because the pain in my left hand would be too intense.