Chapter 1
“You’re pregnant,” the doctor said, “seven weeks.”
I stared at her in disbelief. She couldn’t be fucking serious. I turned eighteen five weeks ago. What the hell was I going to do? It was only one time. The guy was somebody I knew well enough—parties, barbecues, the usual crowd—but not a close friend, not a boyfriend. I was so fucked.
Nothing came out of my mouth, and she continued to stare at me. I wanted to scream and curse, but that wouldn’t change this. I grabbed my backpack and pulled the door open.
“Ms. Krieger?”
I ignored her and continued out of the doctor’s office. I stepped outside, and the hot air rushed against my face. Nausea crept in—I took in a deep breath. I didn’t want to lose what little breakfast I managed to keep down.
I really didn’t know what to do. All options seemed scary. I’d just graduated from high school this spring and recently been promoted at the local bakery. I was also taking care of my little sister while my mom worked. Life was hard. We barely made it from day to day. What the hell would I do with a newborn? How was I going to tell him?
Daxyn had been to my house several times to hang out with the group of guys that hung around my brother. My brother wasalmost exactly a year older than I was. His friends were mostly two to three years older than him.
Our place became the house to party at, with my mom working late nights waitressing at a local restaurant. I’d tuck my sister into our bed and spend the night drowning my problems in alcohol or weed. Most of us had some type of family troubles. We all knew it, we just didn’t talk about it.
I’d been drinking and partying every other day this summer. I really hoped this baby wasn’t messed up. In all the years I'd been hooking up with whoever gave me attention, I always made them wear a condom.
Shit.
Our house was four blocks from the clinic—the walk home was a blur. My mind was racing in every direction. What the hell would I actually say to my mom?
I sat on the couch in a daze. Aspen ran around the living area, playing with her toys. She didn’t have a care in the world. I tried so hard to protect her from everything. She was only six, and our father bailed on us before she was even born. My mom would come home and drink herself into oblivion. Sometimes she brought random men home. Luckily, none of them stayed long.
When I started working, it was mostly to save up money so I could get the hell out of here, but also because bills needed to be paid. I was still going to do that, because I surely couldn’t stay here. I didn’t know what I’d do, but I wouldn’t give up.
My mom came home at two a.m., sat down on the couch, flipped the TV on, and popped open a can of beer. I sat down next to her, my knee bouncing as fast as it could.
“How was work?” I asked her.
“It was a busy night, lots of customers, good tips.”
“That’s good, ourelectric bill is due tomorrow, and I need another fifty to pay it.”
“You can get it out of my purse,” she said, eyes fixated on the TV.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” I said. I needed to get it over with. No need to drag it along.
“I’m listening.”
“I’m pregnant,” I said. I kept my eyes lowered.
“What?” She’d turned toward me, her tone colder.
“I’m pregnant,” I said again.
“What are you going to do, Zalayuh?”
I raised my eyebrow, wanting to make sure I answered correctly. “Keep it?”
“Good,” she said, and then turned her head back to the TV. She took a long drink of the beer in her hands. “Whose is it?”
“Daxyn,” I said. I didn’t look at her, avoiding all eye contact.
She nodded—no words came out. She’d met him a couple of times when he came over for barbecues. I swallowed hard. I was unsure of what to say or what to do.
“He’s what, twenty-four?”