Sorrow

Maggie's bed was too small, my feet are hanging off of the edge and the headboard is cutting into my neck, despite the pillow that I have on top of it.
The road trip here wasn't planned- not by a long shot- but when I got up this morning, I was too restless. I wanted to get away, to be free from my problems for a little bit. So, I packed up the car and headed for Maggie's dorm. I was sitting outside her door when she came back from her last class, popping up beside her as she dug in her purse for her keys with one hand, her nose buried in a book.
"Hiiii!" I trilled. She squealed and dropped her book, the dull thump of it hitting the carpet, echoing through the hall. "That's dangerous, you know. Not being away of your surroundings and all that jazz."
"What are you doing here?" she asks, opening the door and shooing me into her room. I look around at the two beds seperated by a small wooden bookshelf/study area. "My bed's over there." she says, pointing, "My roomie's out at class. She'll be back in a little while."
I plop down on her bed and pull off my shoes, laying back.
"So, what are you doing here?" Maggie prompts, pulling up a chair.
"Aww, Mags, can't a girl drive up just to see her best friend's wonderful, shining face?" I joke.
"I think that the limits of our friendship are less than a six hour drive one way."
I stare at the ceiling, "Well, the thing is, I kinda need to talk to somebody."
She nods, pleased with herself, "I knew it." Settling into her desk chair and crossing her legs, she smiles. "Proceed, Dr. Maggie is here to help you with your problems."
I pass my hand over my stomahc, already feeling the beginnings of a bump under them. "Well," I say, slowly, "I'm pregnant."
Maggie squeals, "Really? Who's is it? Do they know? What are yall going to do?"
"It's Grant's." I answer, in a monotone, "He knows, but he doesn't care." Already the day that I had confronted him feels far away, like a part of some long-forgotten dream which you can only remember the pieces of. "Mags, I want you to be the godmother. Grant wants nothing...to do with it." By the end of the sentence, I'm crying: it didn't hit me while I was fighting with him, or even when I was in the hospital, I'd just figured that he was going to come around, that everything would be ok. Now it hit me like a wrecking ball through an abandoned house: he didn't want me, or anything to do with his baby. "He says...it's not even his. But...I know that it is. When he was...holding me down...he'd never put on a condom...he said....he'd pull out...and that....it would  be fine...that I wouldn't...that I couldn't....get pregnant." I sob, brokenly.
"Wait," Maggie stops me, "He held you down?" I nod. "C'mon," She stands, grabbing her bag off of the back of her chair. "We'll go for a walk and you can tell me all about it."