Read Online Look at You Now by Liz Pryor - Free Book Online Page A

time. Our time with our dad on the boat was unlike anything else.
    Ten days before I arrived at the facility, my dad had taken some of us kids and his new wife on vacation to the British Virgin Islands. We cruised through the crystal-clear waters for ten incredible days. The Caribbean was an amazingly beautiful place. We took turns at the helm, trimmed the sails, dodged jellyfish, and caught starfish. We pretended to be pirates, counted stars, andshaved our legs in buckets of freshwater on the deck. We bought muffins and bread from little kids and their dads in old wooden dinghies motoring around the harbors in the mornings. Some of our greatest times together as a family were spent sailing, navigating small living quarters with too many siblings, and talking our heads off about things we might never have discussed under other circumstances. The confines of the boat were part of the beauty of sailing. And I was pretty sure that’s what our dad had in mind.
    Every day on the Caribbean, I found a different secret spot to sit, and be alone; in furled sails, out on the bowsprit, in the corners of the cockpit, and down below deck. It was on the water where I really learned how to be alone. That trip I spent a lot of time thinking about my life, how much I’d done and seen, and how quickly it was passing. I was seventeen years old, and I would be leaving for college soon. Everything was about to change and open up in a new way. It was the most exhilarating feeling I could remember ever having. Life was going to turn, and I was ready.
    One particular day, partway through the vacation, we were all hanging around on the hot deck, sunburned and full to the brim with our lunch of delicious freshly caught yellow tuna. I noticed my dad’s new wife staring at me. She smiled a couple times when I looked over, but I didn’t think much about it. Later that afternoon, I was down below deck feeling terribly seasick, which was unusual for me. I was sitting alone in the main salon when I noticed the new wife making her way down the ladder in her yellow string bikini. She smiled and asked if she could join me. I could smell the rich Bain de Soleil oil she had slathered all over her tanned body.
    She sat quietly with me for a bit before she very casually asked, “Is there any way you could be pregnant, Liz?”
    The words clashed in my brain. Pregnant? I thought about it. I mean I couldn’t actually be pregnant—with a baby in my body? No way. The thought had crossed my mind, but not exactly. Not in the real kind of way. I excused myself from the couch to get sick in the bathroom again. I pumped and flushed the little toilet, rinsedmy mouth, and when I came out she was still sitting there, waiting, with her pretty hair.
    â€œDo you remember when you last got your period, Lizzie?”
    â€œNo. I only got my first period like a year and a half ago, and it never really comes every month, so . . . I don’t know. I haven’t had it in a long time.”
    â€œHave you had sex with your boyfriend?”
    â€œYes.” Holy crap, yes, but not in the we’re-going-to-have-sex planned kind of way. More in the it-went-too-far kind of way. We’d never even talked about it. About what happened. Maybe if my boyfriend Daniel and I had talked about it, discussed it, or planned it, it wouldn’t have gone so far. It would have made it more real than it felt in the moment.
    â€œI think it would be a good idea to take you to a doctor. You’re probably not pregnant but we should make sure, huh?” My whole body felt numb as the reality of what she was saying hit.
    â€œWhat doctor?”
    â€œI have a doctor you could see; we could go when we get back. We don’t have to say anything to your dad just yet.” She was so calm and nice, but I started to panic. I wanted to know right then that I wasn’t pregnant; the idea of it was too big to process. How could I have ignored my growing