Seize the Day - Chapter Seven (Beta Reader Filter)
Chapter Seven, and the official end of the first 50 pages. I have one specific question for you guys: my preliminary beta reader suggested moving the second section into a later chapter (chapter 9) and expanding the first one enough to make it its own chapter. Let me know if you agree with this -- because then I'll do exactly that. Also, tell me anything else you can possibly think of -- including questions you may have. I might not respond to the feedback right away, but do know that I super appreciate it. Previous chapters, if you missed them:
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Savin could feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. Of course. Of course someone would be calling him now, in the first five minutes he had to himself. Yawning, he leaned back in his armchair, crossing one leg over the other as he pulled out his phone. The screen flashed, the words The Agency for Planned Reproduction scrolling across it.
He froze, feeling the color drain from his face. They were calling him back? Already? Really? They had just turned in their application maybe a week ago! Gulping, Savin put the phone to his ear. “Hello...?”
“May I speak to Dr. Bates, please?”
Savin’s stomach twisted. “This is he,” he murmured, leaning his head back against the chair and turning his eyes towards the ceiling. This couldn’t mean anything good. They didn’t contact viable candidates so soon after an application had been received, did they? They couldn’t -- there was just no way -- he thought he had at least a year before he had to worry about this --
“...calling to make you aware of a certain...situation we discovered about your partner’s test results,” the voice on the other end continued, as if entirely undeterred by Savin’s silence. Savin closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves.
“What’s wrong with Mari’s results?” he dared to ask, thankful that his voice didn’t shake as he spoke. Last thing he needed was to sound distressed. Like he hadn’t expected them to call him, at some point. But the way the man -- or was it a woman? he couldn’t tell -- spoke chilled him to the bone.
The person on the other end hesitated. Savin could hear them draw in a breath slowly, could feel the heaviness in their voice as they spoke their next words. “Dr. Hadley is a carrier, Dr. Bates --”
“There’s no fucking way,” Savin muttered, flinging himself off of his chair. He began to pace their living room. “My fiancee isn’t -- she can’t be --” Pregnant, he finished internally. She was pregnant.
The person didn’t pause, their voice still strangely composed as they continued to speak. As if informing applicants of illegal pregnancies was just a normal, typical part of their job. Savin chortled darkly to himself -- maybe it was. “Now, usually when we discover a woman in such a state, we give the applicants the benefit of the doubt,” the voice said. “No one wants to be reported for an ‘accident,’ right? And as one with such a vast reputation in the medical field, certainly something like this wasn’t planned, correct?”
“Of course not,” Savin snapped, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve had a vasectomy, for Christ’s sake --” He cut himself off.
He hadn’t gone to his follow up.
He didn’t use a condom, the night he and Mari became engaged -- didn’t have one in the car, didn’t go up to their apartment to just continue things there, just -- up and had sex in his car. Unprotected.
“How far along is she?” Savin asked despite himself, and this time his voice unmistakably shook.
“We estimate no more than eight weeks,” the voice answered. “Has she been exhibiting any symptoms? Nausea? Increased sense of smell? Food aversions?”
Savin gulped. Mari hadn’t quite kicked that bug she thought she had -- and she had been acting weird, in other ways. “Yes,” he whispered, putting his hand on his hip and shaking his head. “What -- what do we do?” he croaked out.
“You’re a surgeon, aren’t you?” they countered, a note of smugness hidden within their voice. “While it’s generally against the rules for us to suggest an applicant to take care of their...predicament themselves, with your reputation, we’re willing to make an exception. And if you’re not comfortable with handling things yourself, we’ll gladly refer you to several trusted surgeons who are, of course”
“Please,” Savin said, covering his face with his hand. He slipped his fingers under his glasses, rubbing his eyes hard. “I wouldn’t be comfortable performing an abortion on my own fiancee. Just -- send me the list.”
***
Mari’s brow bunched together, her eyes narrowing slightly as she saw Savin sitting in his chair, cradling his head in his hands. “What’s wrong?” she asked, sinking into couch beside Savin’s chair.
Savin snapped his head up, his glasses hanging askew on his face. He glanced over at her before raking his fingers through his hair. He pursed his lips together before shaking his head and looking away. “I --” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I got a phone call from the Agency, earlier.”
Mari’s eyes widened, her heart beating a tiny bit faster at Savin’s words. From the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes, the news wasn’t anything good. She could feel her eyes sting as she bit her lip. “What -- what’d they say?”
Savin’s eyes met hers and he grimaced, sliding his hand down his face. “They -- they said that you’re -- that you’re pregnant.”
The words hung in the air between them, Savin’s bright green eyes never once breaking contact with hers. Mari blinked, wrinkling her nose in confusion. “You -- you can’t be serious, Savin,” she managed, her words shaking. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “There’s no way -- you had a vasectomy --”
“It -- apparently didn’t take,” Savin said, his face flushing. He looked away from her, his fingers tapping methodically against his thighs. “I -- I never went to the follow up; didn’t even schedule it, I just assumed --” Words seemed to fail him as his voice cracked.
“You never scheduled it?” Mari shrieked, jumping up from the couch. Her stomach twisted, a familiar wave of nausea overtaking her for a moment. She put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. “Savin, what the fuck?”
“Why do you think I kept insisting we use condoms?” Savin shot back, glaring at her over the edge of his glasses. “I didn’t want to fucking risk it! Last thing I fucking need is the NBEA on our asses and our reputations ruined because of an accidental pregnancy --”
“Of course you would worry about your reputation,” Mari spat, crossing her arms over her chest. She then looked down at her stomach -- a stomach that hadn’t seemed any rounder over the past few weeks, even if she had felt more bloated than usual. And she hadn’t missed her period -- at least, she thought those days a few weeks ago were just a lighter than normal period. “Are you sure I’m pregnant?” she asked, her voice lacking the venom it contained just a moment before.
“Would The Agency really call me to tell me you were pregnant if you weren’t?” Savin countered, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “I mean, I can’t fucking believe it, either -- but they gave me a list of surgeons who’ll do abortions without alerting the authorities and...”
Mari tightened her arms around herself and frowned. Pregnant. She was pregnant. With child. “What if -- what if we kept it?” she asked. She looked up at him, biting her lip hard enough to cause a flare of pain.
Savin’s jaw dropped to between his legs, his eyes huge behind his glasses. “You can’t be fucking serious. Keep it? Mari, that would be suicide if anyone ever found out -- I mean, look at what happened to the Kings.”
Mari sucked in her lip, wincing slightly as she uncrossed her arms. “You’re right,” she said with a sigh. She lowered herself into the oversized armchair beside Savin, sitting half in the chair and half in his lap and leaning her head against his shoulder. “So what do we do?” she asked.
Savin kept his eyes forward, slinging an arm around Mari’s waist and pulling her close against him. “We set up an appointment for an abortion and hope no one ever finds out about this?” he offered, a wry smile making its way across his lips. “There’s not much we can do, Mari. They’re not reporting us -- we just have to ‘take care of’ the problem before resubmitting our application for reproductive rights.”
Mari managed to smile back, slipping her arm around Savin’s back and leaning further against him. She closed her eyes and put her other hand on her stomach. She was pregnant. Keeping the baby would be illegal -- would get them in so much trouble and maybe even cost them their lives, if they didn’t take care of things fast enough. And Natural Borns weren’t really people, either. They only caused the human race suffering -- only further endangered it.
That’s why the NBEA still hunted down that wretched Ryin King, even nearly six years since his initial escape. He was a danger to society -- a menace.
But could an unborn baby really be that dangerous, too? Especially one with parents who were both born the right way? She tightened her arm around herself just as Savin tightened his around her and kissed her forehead.
“Make the appointment,” she whispered, ignoring how her eyes stung. “Let me know when so I can schedule the day off.”
“Alright,” Savin murmured in return. “You gonna be okay?”
Mari frowned, a tear or two slipping down her cheek. “Yeah... I’ll be okay.”
She hoped.
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
Savin could feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. Of course. Of course someone would be calling him now, in the first five minutes he had to himself. Yawning, he leaned back in his armchair, crossing one leg over the other as he pulled out his phone. The screen flashed, the words The Agency for Planned Reproduction scrolling across it.
He froze, feeling the color drain from his face. They were calling him back? Already? Really? They had just turned in their application maybe a week ago! Gulping, Savin put the phone to his ear. “Hello...?”
“May I speak to Dr. Bates, please?”
Savin’s stomach twisted. “This is he,” he murmured, leaning his head back against the chair and turning his eyes towards the ceiling. This couldn’t mean anything good. They didn’t contact viable candidates so soon after an application had been received, did they? They couldn’t -- there was just no way -- he thought he had at least a year before he had to worry about this --
“...calling to make you aware of a certain...situation we discovered about your partner’s test results,” the voice on the other end continued, as if entirely undeterred by Savin’s silence. Savin closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath to steady his nerves.
“What’s wrong with Mari’s results?” he dared to ask, thankful that his voice didn’t shake as he spoke. Last thing he needed was to sound distressed. Like he hadn’t expected them to call him, at some point. But the way the man -- or was it a woman? he couldn’t tell -- spoke chilled him to the bone.
The person on the other end hesitated. Savin could hear them draw in a breath slowly, could feel the heaviness in their voice as they spoke their next words. “Dr. Hadley is a carrier, Dr. Bates --”
“There’s no fucking way,” Savin muttered, flinging himself off of his chair. He began to pace their living room. “My fiancee isn’t -- she can’t be --” Pregnant, he finished internally. She was pregnant.
The person didn’t pause, their voice still strangely composed as they continued to speak. As if informing applicants of illegal pregnancies was just a normal, typical part of their job. Savin chortled darkly to himself -- maybe it was. “Now, usually when we discover a woman in such a state, we give the applicants the benefit of the doubt,” the voice said. “No one wants to be reported for an ‘accident,’ right? And as one with such a vast reputation in the medical field, certainly something like this wasn’t planned, correct?”
“Of course not,” Savin snapped, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve had a vasectomy, for Christ’s sake --” He cut himself off.
He hadn’t gone to his follow up.
He didn’t use a condom, the night he and Mari became engaged -- didn’t have one in the car, didn’t go up to their apartment to just continue things there, just -- up and had sex in his car. Unprotected.
“How far along is she?” Savin asked despite himself, and this time his voice unmistakably shook.
“We estimate no more than eight weeks,” the voice answered. “Has she been exhibiting any symptoms? Nausea? Increased sense of smell? Food aversions?”
Savin gulped. Mari hadn’t quite kicked that bug she thought she had -- and she had been acting weird, in other ways. “Yes,” he whispered, putting his hand on his hip and shaking his head. “What -- what do we do?” he croaked out.
“You’re a surgeon, aren’t you?” they countered, a note of smugness hidden within their voice. “While it’s generally against the rules for us to suggest an applicant to take care of their...predicament themselves, with your reputation, we’re willing to make an exception. And if you’re not comfortable with handling things yourself, we’ll gladly refer you to several trusted surgeons who are, of course”
“Please,” Savin said, covering his face with his hand. He slipped his fingers under his glasses, rubbing his eyes hard. “I wouldn’t be comfortable performing an abortion on my own fiancee. Just -- send me the list.”
***
Mari’s brow bunched together, her eyes narrowing slightly as she saw Savin sitting in his chair, cradling his head in his hands. “What’s wrong?” she asked, sinking into couch beside Savin’s chair.
Savin snapped his head up, his glasses hanging askew on his face. He glanced over at her before raking his fingers through his hair. He pursed his lips together before shaking his head and looking away. “I --” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I got a phone call from the Agency, earlier.”
Mari’s eyes widened, her heart beating a tiny bit faster at Savin’s words. From the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes, the news wasn’t anything good. She could feel her eyes sting as she bit her lip. “What -- what’d they say?”
Savin’s eyes met hers and he grimaced, sliding his hand down his face. “They -- they said that you’re -- that you’re pregnant.”
The words hung in the air between them, Savin’s bright green eyes never once breaking contact with hers. Mari blinked, wrinkling her nose in confusion. “You -- you can’t be serious, Savin,” she managed, her words shaking. She brushed her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. “There’s no way -- you had a vasectomy --”
“It -- apparently didn’t take,” Savin said, his face flushing. He looked away from her, his fingers tapping methodically against his thighs. “I -- I never went to the follow up; didn’t even schedule it, I just assumed --” Words seemed to fail him as his voice cracked.
“You never scheduled it?” Mari shrieked, jumping up from the couch. Her stomach twisted, a familiar wave of nausea overtaking her for a moment. She put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. “Savin, what the fuck?”
“Why do you think I kept insisting we use condoms?” Savin shot back, glaring at her over the edge of his glasses. “I didn’t want to fucking risk it! Last thing I fucking need is the NBEA on our asses and our reputations ruined because of an accidental pregnancy --”
“Of course you would worry about your reputation,” Mari spat, crossing her arms over her chest. She then looked down at her stomach -- a stomach that hadn’t seemed any rounder over the past few weeks, even if she had felt more bloated than usual. And she hadn’t missed her period -- at least, she thought those days a few weeks ago were just a lighter than normal period. “Are you sure I’m pregnant?” she asked, her voice lacking the venom it contained just a moment before.
“Would The Agency really call me to tell me you were pregnant if you weren’t?” Savin countered, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “I mean, I can’t fucking believe it, either -- but they gave me a list of surgeons who’ll do abortions without alerting the authorities and...”
Mari tightened her arms around herself and frowned. Pregnant. She was pregnant. With child. “What if -- what if we kept it?” she asked. She looked up at him, biting her lip hard enough to cause a flare of pain.
Savin’s jaw dropped to between his legs, his eyes huge behind his glasses. “You can’t be fucking serious. Keep it? Mari, that would be suicide if anyone ever found out -- I mean, look at what happened to the Kings.”
Mari sucked in her lip, wincing slightly as she uncrossed her arms. “You’re right,” she said with a sigh. She lowered herself into the oversized armchair beside Savin, sitting half in the chair and half in his lap and leaning her head against his shoulder. “So what do we do?” she asked.
Savin kept his eyes forward, slinging an arm around Mari’s waist and pulling her close against him. “We set up an appointment for an abortion and hope no one ever finds out about this?” he offered, a wry smile making its way across his lips. “There’s not much we can do, Mari. They’re not reporting us -- we just have to ‘take care of’ the problem before resubmitting our application for reproductive rights.”
Mari managed to smile back, slipping her arm around Savin’s back and leaning further against him. She closed her eyes and put her other hand on her stomach. She was pregnant. Keeping the baby would be illegal -- would get them in so much trouble and maybe even cost them their lives, if they didn’t take care of things fast enough. And Natural Borns weren’t really people, either. They only caused the human race suffering -- only further endangered it.
That’s why the NBEA still hunted down that wretched Ryin King, even nearly six years since his initial escape. He was a danger to society -- a menace.
But could an unborn baby really be that dangerous, too? Especially one with parents who were both born the right way? She tightened her arm around herself just as Savin tightened his around her and kissed her forehead.
“Make the appointment,” she whispered, ignoring how her eyes stung. “Let me know when so I can schedule the day off.”
“Alright,” Savin murmured in return. “You gonna be okay?”
Mari frowned, a tear or two slipping down her cheek. “Yeah... I’ll be okay.”
She hoped.