Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“Live at home?” Richie says. “If we’re having a baby, then we’re going to be living together.” He looks at his mom, who nods in agreement.
“I agree. If you’re going to have this baby, you two should get married. Give the baby a proper home. Of course we’ll help them,” Anita says to my mom. “Buy them a house just off campus and help pay for their bills while Richie is in college. He’s planning to go to medical school, and I won’t let this ruin his future.”
Everything she’s saying has my head spinning. I’ve only just found out I’m pregnant and have decided to keep the baby. But she’s already talking about living arrangements and marriage. My first instinct is to call Landon. He was there for me when, up until now, the biggest change in my life occurred—my parents divorcing. But then it hits me that I can’t call him about this. I would have to admit I slept with Richie and I’m now pregnant.
An uncontrollable sob racks my body as I remember what I promised him: “If one day I make it back to Boston and you’re single, promise me you’ll give us another chance. I refuse to believe this is the end of us, Harper.” This will mean the end of Landon and me. There’s no going back. I fucked up and now I’ve destroyed any possible future for us.
“They’re not even together,” Mom points out. “They’re too young to move in together. She can live at home and they’ll have shared custody of the baby.”
“That’s absurd,” Anita argues. “You’re damning the baby before he’s even born.”
My head is spinning with everything they’re saying, and I feel like I’m about to lose it.
“You guys, stop,” Richie demands. “Harper, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks me.
“Okay, just let me get dressed,” I say, hiding my face so nobody can see I’m full-on crying now.
Everyone leaves, and I use the moment to try to calm myself down, but the more I think about everything, the more worked up I get. I’m pregnant with Richie’s baby. I’m still a senior in high school. I only make minimum wage, and my mom can barely afford the roof over our head. Was I stupid to say I want to keep this baby? Am I in over my head? My eyes go to the black and white image. I know I’m young and this isn’t ideal, but I can’t imagine giving up my baby.
I pull my phone out, and without giving it a second thought, I call Landon. Maybe it’s selfish of me, but I just need to hear his voice. He promised we would stay friends and right now I really need my friend.
The phone rings several times before it goes to voicemail, and I hang up without leaving a message.
“Hey, you done?” Richie asks, just as I’m sliding my phone into my back pocket. I feel it vibrate, and I want to answer it, but not with Richie standing in front of me.
“Yeah, come in.”
He takes a look at the picture in my hand and smiles softly. “I’m really sorry for my part in this.” He points to the baby. “I could’ve sworn we used protection.”
“What do we do now?” I ask, choosing to focus on the future instead of dwelling on the past. I can’t confirm or deny whether we did, and there’s no use in pointing fingers or placing blame.
“I know your mom wants you to live at home, but I really think we should try to be a family. I don’t want to be a weekend dad. Once you graduate, we can move in together and get married. You heard my mom. My parents will help us while we’re in college, and we’ll be able to give the baby a two-parent home.”
A weekend dad… Landon’s conversation about his own father creeps into my thoughts. He said it was hard for his dad to be a father when he only got to see him four days a month. Is that how it would be with our baby? Richie only getting to see him or her a few days a month and all because I refused to try to be a family. My parents are divorced and I never see my dad anymore. Sure, a lot of it is because he’s drunk all the time, but it doesn’t change the fact I miss him. Would that be fair to Richie for me to do that to him? To our child?
“But we’re not in love,” I point out. This wasn’t how my future was supposed to go. One night and everything is all messed up. This should’ve been me and Landon. He was who I should be pregnant by. I try to imagine how he would react but quickly push the thoughts aside. Pretending was what got me into this mess in the first place. I’m pregnant with Richie’s baby, not Landon’s, and the quicker I come to terms with it, the better off I’ll be. There’s no use wishing for things that’ll never happen. Landon and I are done for good. My getting pregnant ensured that.