Her life was meant to be perfect no matter what.
Even though it already was, she was the only one who failed to see it. So, she worked harder, fulfilling all her dreams—the one for herself, the one for her super wealthy family, and the last one, which was the hardest to fulfill.
"How?"
Ari looked at her patient, confused. The pen, nearly invisible, moved anxiously between her fingers. Her perfectly shaped red lips parted as she struggled to understand this difficult patient. Ari turned her head sideways to make sense of the patient's response to her diagnosis. The paper containing the result of her test, lying on her plain white table, gave the illusion of being made out of plastic to everyone who stepped inside her office.
"What?"
The teenager, not yet eighteen, rolled her eyes in frustration, a cigarette stick poised at the corner of her chapped lips. The audacity of her to smoke freely before a doctor—let alone in her current condition—was astounding. Her sign at the door leading to the office should have communicated something clearly:
No pets allowed.
No smoking or drinking.
Come in alone. Family members, lovers, friends, or exes should wait outside.
Abortion is possible in other hospitals.
And please, drop all religious, philosophical, or astronomical beliefs at the door.
"How? How did I get infected with this thing growing in me?"
Ari cleared her throat, straightened herself in her seat, and forced a smile on her face.
"You… mean… how you got pregnant?"
The girl rolled her eyes and dismissed the question nonchalantly. "Well, that's a fancy way to call this. But, yeah, how did it happen?"
Ari paused, trying to decipher what the girl meant by "how did it happen?" Was she implying rape? Surely, the basics of what causes pregnancy were common knowledge, right? Was she ignorant of basic biology, or…?
"I'm sorry, but I don't get your question. Do you mean what made you become four and a half weeks pregnant?"
A puff of smoke hit her face as the teenager—who looked and dressed as though she were the leader of a dangerous occult—stared at her with a bored look. The silence that followed made her seem foolish. She moved her lips sideways and, in an act of further foolishness, began to answer.
"You see, when you meet a boy that you like and he makes you feel all kinds of emotions at once, there is a part of your brain…"
That is, if you have one.
"…that controls… pleasure and all that. Once the guy successfully turns you on in a way that makes you feel sexually attracted to him, you give in to that feeling—which could end up with both of you having sexual intercourse. If you are both fertile, you could create this little sac of life that rests in a part of you called the womb for nine good months, and during those nine months we call that period pregnancy," Ari concluded with another forced smile. Her smile wavered when the delinquent burst into a sarcastic laugh.
"Are you fucking kidding me right now? Sexual… inter—what? Don't you mean we fucked hard enough and there was probably a hole in the condom, and then I got fucking pregnant?"
If you want to be vulgar about it, then yes. She nodded her head, already considering adding "no chewing of gums" to her list of things not accepted in her office.
"I know what having sex is and how it can make your tummy swell up a bit after."
"Oh, you do?"
The urge to quickly envelope her test report and escort the patient out of her office was like an itch under her skin, but she had to bear it all if she still wanted her career in medicine to be perfect. For people to leave good reviews on her website—even from patients like this one—she had to be as angelic as possible. There was no need for anyone to experience her monstrous side.
"Yeah, what do you think I am? Stupid?"
Ari shook her head, the doll-like smile firmly plastered on her face.
"I know what should happen to get pregnant. I'm just confused by how I got pregnant in the middle of recruiting more members to the club." She took another drag of her cigar.
"Ugh. This is so frustrating," the girl groaned, shaking her head as she took another drag of her cigarette before staring out of the floor-to-ceiling windows, which were covered with a special technology to keep out any ultraviolet rays of the sun.
How it happened—though she was super conscious of it and believed it would never happen to her—remained a mystery.
Ari cleared her throat again, moved to the edge of her seat, placed her hands on the table, and leaned in to help her patient.
"Dear, what is your name?"
"Satan's porcupine."
Ari did her best not to react to that name. She cleared her throat and decided to be more specific, the fake smile threatening to fall as she slowly lost her patience but still did her best to keep it together. "Satan's porcupine, what's your… birth name?"
The teenager looked confused. Her beautiful green eyes—the only thing she resented was that they were naturally beautiful, unlike Ari's, who had to rely on countless artificial and non-artificial methods to make hers glow—wandered off for a moment, and she admitted, "I don't remember."
Ari couldn't say a word. No, she must not come off as someone who judges a teenager who wants to have all the fun in the world while still young and beautiful. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't like them when she had the chance to have so much fun.
"I don't know… I think it sounded Greek, like with the intonations of Italian… I honestly do not know. Satan's Porcupine is what most of my gang calls me, ever since I can remember. I got so used to it that I can't… It's weird; I usually do remember my Spanish name, but after I drank that bottle and came down here… I can't remember the last person that dared cum in me to put me in this goddamn mess."
O–kay.
Ari pulled back, leaning further in her seat. She should have known that trying to have a normal conversation with a drug addict (the test results also showed alarming signs that her blood was not pure) was not going to lead anywhere.
"It's alright. Why don't we call you SP for now?"
"SP?" The girl gave a questioning look. Ari bobbed her head with fake enthusiasm.
"Yeah, Satan's Porcupine for short. I have a feeling you might walk out of this office and decide you don't want to keep the baby…"
SP scoffed, "Of course I won't. Do you know how hard it is to get a bottle of milk out there?"
"I'm lactose intolerant. I can't really relate to that. But why don't I get your contact so we can keep in touch? There are so many things about your life…and about you… that are not…" Ari turned her lips sideways once more, trying to figure out how to phrase her next words in the least hurtful way possible, without coming off as judgmental of her decisions and lifestyle. "…I like you a lot, and I see you are a really fun person. In fact, you're the most dramatic person I have seen since my day began. SP, did I tell you that I'm also kind of a big deal in Hollywood? The film industry?"
SP took another slow drag, her green eyes squinting at Ari in suspicion.
"Yeah," she began, nodding her head. "I remember seeing your pretty face in this really good film I liked so much. Oh, what's it called? Ah, yes, The Commoner's Wish?"
Ari blushed harder as she nodded. Ariana is pretty and famous—the dream she achieved for herself was to be a successful Hollywood actress.
"Oh my god!"
SP placed both of her hands on the table.
"You were Ella? The heroine of the movie?"
"The world is a better place if labourers also had something to dip their bread in and lawyers didn't have to lie so much to free our criminals on the streets."
SP gasped in disbelief as Ari quoted a line from her debut movie. The fake smile shifted into a more sincere one, and the rebellious teenager instantly transformed into an excited fangirl.
"Oh my god, I didn't know it was you. I would have been much nicer."
"It's fine," Ari waved her hands dismissively.
"So, how would you like to be adopted by me and let me shape you into a more dignified person like myself?"
"Really?"
"Anything is possible when you are a Hollywood sensation who is also a doctor on the sidelines. I can bring you out from the streets; you can quit that dangerous gang you're involved in and do something that earns you real money. I have adopted so many like you, and they are all doing great—fantastic, even. You wouldn't have any reason to get rid of the little SP growing in you. You will both be fine, and I will make sure of it."
SP stared at the doctor. It looked too good to be true. But who would throw away the opportunity to look and live just like Ariana Rebecca Grande?
"So, are you ready to give this a try?"
"Heck, yeah! Why not?!"