I almost had a heart attack when the alarm went off at 6 in the morning, I wasnt used to hearing the shrill ringingat least from the clock anyway, usually it was Evan I woke up to; soft cries, loud screams, I heard it all. Today was different though, he slept through the night, completely, and with that thought a grin spread across my face as I looked over to the crib across from my bed. I was shocked to see him not sleeping but sitting up all by himself and gurgling out baby speak to the fluffy green bunny in the corner of his crib. It still amazed me that I created him, that he was mine, and every time I see his big brown eyes I fall for him all over againthis little person that I get to teach the world to. I sat myself up in my bed and just kept listening to him, the rhythm of his incoherent babble sounding close to the speech of a verbally competent person, like the bunny understood what he was saying and then replying to him. Again I smiled as I swung the blankets back and put my feet to the plush carpeting of my bedroom floor. I find myself doing that a lot lately; smiling that is. Believe me, everything isnt alright in the world of Tina Kennard, its already March and I havent even seen Bette in a little over a year, I still cant believe itIm going to thoughI swearBut before I get to that I can tell you about what else is going onwhich isnt much. Im working still, I guess thats a given, I need to in order to pay rentto my mother, yes I get charged nowand to take care of my wonderful baby boy. Other than that things have been alright. Okay well alright is overstating things a bit. My relationship with my mom, which hasnt always been good, has taken a turn for the worse again, her and Greg are too involved for me to even care; I barely speak to her as it is. I have no friends, but I guess thats to be expected when youre 20 and a single mother, everyone else your age is in college and partying it up. Speaking of partying, your wondering about my fantastic new addiction, the one that took me only months to acquire, but that I probably wont ever be rid ofyeah that one.well its hard, Im not going to lieand I slip up occasionally. I dont go on benders, I cant afford the luxury of passing out for days, nor can I afford the luxury of the monster itself. Between diapers, bottles, and all the other necessities, its a pretty expensive habit. Like I said though, I do slip, I do meetings occasionally for substance abuse, when I have timeagain I may be getting repetitive but its hard to find the time. When I do slip up its horrible, well not the high itself because its as spectacular as it ever was, I just feel horrible afterwards like I let myself down, let my son down. Its only usually when things build up, when Im run down. I look at Evan and I just want to cry, I think to myself that I cant possibly be a mother, that Im too screwed up, this little life that I have a responsibility over and its completely overwhelming. Im sure theres a lot more to it than thatBut I just woke up and I dont feel like delving into it right nowmaybe later. Right now I walk over to the wooden crib in my room and see a toothless smile flashed my way as he realizes Im awake, and again, every other bad thought flies out the windowhe loves meunconditionally; theres not a better feeling than that. I widen my eyes and smile at him the way goofy parents often do, and then talk to him in a baby voice watching how excited he can get this early in the morning. Hows my big guy? Are you hungry? You want a ba-ba? I scoop him up into my arms and kiss his chubby cheek before changing his diaper and changing him out of his little pajamas. Im so thankful for the routine of being a mother, it doesnt come with time to think about other things besides taking care of him. When Im done with his morning routine I take him into the living room and play with him, thinking about all that I need to do today while he tries to push square blocks through triangle holes, and cylinders through squares, giggling and clapping when he finds out which goes where. Soback to what I said earliertodaytheres things to be done. Today is the day. Ive saved enough money to get a place of my own, rent one at least, first on the list though, I need to talk to Bette. Its amazing how nervous I am, I know shell probably not want to talk to me, but I dont think I need to tell you how much I miss her. Its hard to believe that we only dated for a month and a couple weeksit feels like Ive been missing a part of me ya know? Somewhere during the last year, during beak benders and lustful relationships she was always there, floating in the back of my head and being pushed further and further back as I sunk further and further down. Now that I think I can do better, that I know what my priorities areI need her again. Shes the only one I could talk to about anything and not worry about being yelled at or criticized, and I know she could help me even more even if its only in the best friend capacity that we occupied before. Although Im not going to fool myself into thinking I dont want to be with her again. I doubt that a sophomore in college just getting her life together, no matter how in love (if she still is), will want to be with a single mother with a meth problem? Highly improbable. But Im still going to stick myself out on a limb. And thats what Im doing now, throwing myself onto a chopping block as I buckle Evan into his car seat in the back and drive to the one house that Ive frequented almost as much as my own during my high school days. Yeah, the Porter house. I figured that Bette should be home for spring break, I just want to talk to her, not over the phone and not through letters; I need to see her face again, be able to tough her again. I pull into the driveway and a smirk plays on my lips as Im reminded of a particular summer night when Bette and I actually had ***** in her car on this drivewayit seems like it was ages ago though. Nervously I fix my ponytail and put some more lip gloss on before opening the door and smoothing my hands over the cute little sundress Im wearing.go figure, a sundress. I open the back and take Evan out of his car seat carefully because hes sleeping, he loves the rhythm of the car; whenever we drive somewhere no matter how short the trip he falls asleep. His head rests gently on my shoulder as I walk up the white steps to the large porch. My stomach has gone way past the fluttering of butterflies, it has to be moth infested.theyre eating away at my internal organsit makes me feel like Im dying. My head flashes that it could use a line to calm the nerves, but my heart kills the thought as I smooth down the soft strawberry blond strands on my sons head. With a shaky hand, feeling like Im ready to bolt and throw up at the same time; my finger presses the doorbell. I jerk back my hand fast like the bell was flaming and my eyes clench shut. I take a deep breath to relax myself and then the door opens, followed by my eyes as I muster up a warm smile at Victoria Porter. Christina Kennard, well you sure are a sight for sore eyes child! What are you doing here? I havent seen you since whattwo summers ago? I thought you went to school on the east coast? OhIm sorry come in. She stepped aside for me and I was met with the familiar sent of a specific laundry detergent and cookies. She walked over to the sitting room and took a seat on the couch patting the cushion next to her. I walked in and pointed to the smaller sofa, Do you mind? She nodded negatively and I placed Evan on the couch, keeping an eye on him as I walked the short distance and sat down. So, she started, her eyes gleaming, Who is that? I was scared to tell her, scared she would look at me the way everyone else I knew had, but I really had no reason to hide from a woman who had always been kind to me. Hes my son, Evanwell Evander. She looked shocked, like pretty little straight-A Tina Kennard would never make that kind of life altering blunder. Oh myhow old is he? Whos the father? Never one to shy away from the questions Hes a little more than nine months, and the father is a non issuehes notwell hes not welcome around Evan. She nodded in semi understanding. Not that Im not thrilled to see you Tinabut why are you here? Is there something you need because you know I would help I waved her off, I dont like pity and I dont need it. Oh no Mrs. Porter, I dont need money, Im okay really. I was just wondering if Bette was home for break? I havent talked to her in so long, I miss her a lot. She quirked an eyebrow. So I guess you never got around to following her down there for school? I shook my head, Things gotcrazy. Well that was one ***** of an understatement if Ive ever made one. Well then, to answer your question, no. Bette wont be home for break, she decided to stay in Philadelphia, she said that she had too much going on, I guess I need to let her do her thing as an adult now I nodded and forced a fake smile all the while my brain was pumping out thoughts. What the ***** now? Visit her in Philly? Move there? How could I make that kind of move with a baby? I would need to drive, I need to have my car and I dont have the money to get everything shippedI didnt care, at that moment theres no reason for me to stay in California anymore, nothing. The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, Do you have her address? I would really love to go see her. She smiled and jotted it down on a piece of paper. I wound up staying there all afternoon, Victoria told me about what Bette had been up to, I told her.with a little (a lot) of editing, about what had been going on with me. Evan woke eventually and Victoria Porter became instantly infatuated with his big brown eyes and chubby face, she spent an hour of so playing with him until it was around the time that Melvin was expected. Needless to say I told her that I needed to leave. On the way home I couldnt help but think of the address scribbled and folded in my pocketit was only a few more days.I couldnt get the thought of seeing Bette again out of my head. I had no idea how she was going to react and I had psyched myself up to see her today and fell flat on my face, I dont think I had enough natural courage to do it again. Later that night as I paced back and forth trying to get Evan asleep, despite Greg yelling, I was rubbing his back and looking around at all the pictures I still had of Bette and I; smiling, laughing, hugging, kissing. Would we be able to be like that again? Would she even want me? Can I handle it if she doesnt? Will it send me spiraling into the monsters greedy hands again?