Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Just stay hydrated and have small snacks on hand like crackers. I can write you a prescription for prenatal vitamins if you’re planning on keeping the baby.”
Was I keeping the baby? Of course. My parents. God. My conscience. All would be in favor of keeping the baby.
My parents.
I was the good child. The only one to go to college. I was saving myself for marriage. The disappointment in their eyes would kill me.
“If you need time to think—”
I shook my head. “I’m keeping it.”
“Very well. Before you leave, I’ll get you a prescription and we can set up your first appointment with an OB. If you don’t know the date of your last period, they’ll take an ultrasound to determine how far along you are.”
I heard nothing but the echoing of her voice.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
MADONNA, “PAPA DON’T PREACH”
Gabby
I had no one.
My best friend broke up with me in every sense of the word, and I couldn’t talk to him on the phone. Olivia said she’d visit me, but I’d only seen her once since the start of the semester, and that was just because she was missing a shirt that she thought might have accidentally gotten put in my laundry hamper.
I hadn’t heard a peep from Matt since Christmas.
And I’d been too busy mourning the loss of Ben in my life to carve out time for a social life.
No friends.
No degree.
No job.
No boyfriend.
No direction.
And I was barely passing my classes.
“I’m pregnant,” I said, talking to God as if he didn’t already know. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t how you wanted me to get pregnant. But I’m keeping the baby so that counts for something. Right?”
The thing with God was He didn’t answer prayers directly. I had to look for clues. He wasn’t the best verbal communicator.
“I suppose you think I should tell Ben,” I said, staring at the empty bunk bed above mine in the dark. It was nearly midnight, but I couldn’t sleep. “What do you want me to do when he rejects me again and his baby?”
I exhaled a deep sigh. “You can think on all of this and get back to me. But don’t wait too long because I can’t hide this baby forever.”
The next morning, I heard someone yell “Ben!” And I jolted out of bed and opened my door. Some guy with red, curly hair hugged the girl two doors down from me. Then they kissed and disappeared into her room. I deflated and shut my door.
“Oh no,” I whispered, reaching for the waste bin and retching twice before expelling the chicken sandwich I ate the previous night. Then I collapsed onto my desk chair.
“Is that a sign?” I whispered.
Whether it was a sign or coincidence, I uncapped my pen and wrote Ben a letter.
Dear Ben,
I know you’re not reading my letters, or if you are, you’re being a jerk and not responding. So I’ll keep this short.
I’m pregnant.
Sincerely,
Gabby
Two weeks later, after no response, I sent another letter.
Dear Ben,
Here’s a photo from the ultrasound. It’s too early to determine the sex, but I said I didn’t want to know anyway.
Sincerely,
Gabby
When I returned from mailing the letter early Saturday morning, Matt was waiting at my door with a bouquet.
“Hey,” I said, trying to smile past the morning sickness that seemed more all day, not just morning.
“Happy birthday,” he said.
My eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“Your mom mentioned it at Christmas, so I made a mental note.”
I unlocked my door. “Thanks. You’re the first one to wish me a happy birthday. My parents will call around ten. They call me every Saturday morning.” I tossed my purse and keys on my bed and took the vase of yellow roses from him.
“Listen, I haven’t been ignoring you on purpose. I’ve just been really busy.” He slid his fingers into his front pockets, giving me a sheepish grin that said he wasn’t that busy.
I smiled with a nod, letting him off the hook. “Hey, I get it. I’ve been busy too, otherwise I would have called.”
He mirrored my slow nod. Neither one of us had to say it. We knew the avoidance was mutual and intentional.
“Are you doing okay in your classes? If you ever need help, the offer still stands,” Matt said.
“I’m good.”
If C’s and D’s were good, then it wasn’t a lie.
“Are you doing okay in your classes? If you ever need help”—I smirked—“don’t ask me.”
Matt barked a laugh. “Thanks. That’s good to know.” He sat on the edge of my bed. “Have you heard from Ben?”
“Nope. Have you heard from Julianne?”
“Actually, yes. She called to let me know she made it safely to California. And we’ve talked every week since. It’s …” He twisted his lips. “Nice.”
Yes. I imagined it was nice to have the person you loved communicate with you.
“What are you doing for spring break?”