Read Online Niagara Motel by Ashley Little - Free Book Online

prostitute and I was just raped while I was working, will you come help me out please, officer?’ They would’ve laughed and hung up on me.”
    â€œBut it’s illegal.”
    â€œIt’s a workplace hazard, my friend.”
    â€œThat’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”
    â€œWell, there’s more.”
    I stared at her.
    â€œThe guy who raped me also made me pregnant.”
    I stared at her.
    â€œI’m pregnant.”
    I stared at her.
    â€œI’m going to get an abortion tomorrow, and I want to you to come with me.”
    I stared at her.
    â€œTucker?”
    I stared at her.
    â€œWill you?”
    â€œOkay.”

    Abortion is when a doctor vacuums an unborn baby out of itsmom. Some people think abortion is murdering babies but how can you murder someone who isn’t even technically born yet? When we lived in Red Deer, I passed the hospital on my way to school every day and there were always people marching out front with huge signs around their necks. They reminded me of the Playing Cards in Alice in Wonderland who try to paint all the white roses red before the Queen of Hearts notices. But instead of spades or diamonds, their cards said things like “Abortion Is Murder!” “God Hates Abortionists!” and “Abortion Stops a Beating Heart.” And I never saw any of them painting roses or anything else. I was eight and didn’t know what abortion meant at the time, so Gina explained it to me.
    â€œSo is it right or wrong?” I asked her.
    â€œAbortion?”
    â€œYeah.”
    She sighed, puffing out her lips. “I don’t think there’s really an answer to that one, cupcake,” she said. “It’s probably one of those things that people are never really going to agree on.”
    â€œOh.” I didn’t understand that. Was abortion like an impossible math question that mathematicians could work on solving for their whole lives and still never get the solution to? Like finding all the digits of pi? “Was I an abortion?”
    â€œNo, honey, you were born.”
    â€œOh. Because Scott Wilcox called me an abortion once.”
    â€œWell, that was a really mean thing for him to say to you, and he’s not a good friend.”
    â€œI know that.”
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œHe’s not even my friend.”
    â€œThat’s good. He sounds mean.”
    â€œHe is!”
    â€œDid you call him a name back?”
    â€œYes,” I said.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œButt-munchkin.”
    Gina tried not to laugh, but she wasn’t doing a very good job of it. “Tucker—”
    â€œWell, he’s really short!”
    Then Gina cracked up and so did I.

    When I got back to the group home after school that afternoon, I went upstairs to use the bathroom. Someone had tried to flush a paper towel and then laid a gigantic poop-log on top of it, and the toilet was overflowing and was about to flood the bathroom floor. I had to get out of there fast or else I’d puke. I ran past the staffroom on my way outside and yelled, “Brian! The upstairs toilet exploded!” Then I went and peed behind a bush in the backyard.
    After that I went to visit Gina. I had to tell her that I wouldn’t be able to come during visiting hours tomorrow. But I hadn’t told her about Meredith, and I couldn’t tell her about Meredith’s abortion appointment because Meredith had made me swear on Gina’s grave and my own grave that I would never tell another living soul about it for as long as I lived, cross my heart and hope to die. I don’t know why I hadn’t told Gina about Meredith yet, I just hadn’t. If I didn’t tell Gina about her, then Meredith was all mine. She was my secret friend that no one could say anything bad about and no one could take away. Maybe a part of me was scared that Gina wouldn’t like me hanging around with a sixteen-year-old, maybe she would