Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 46198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
“Remember when the condom fell off? I think it happened that night.”
He closes his eyes, and a pained expression scrolls across his face. “Are you sure?”
“I have an appointment with the doctor.” I tug with the seam of my shirt, needing something to steady my nerves. “I was hoping you would come with me to the clinic on campus. I could use some moral support.”
“The same thing happened to my dad at the end of high school, right before the NHL drafted him,” Trent mutters. “I promised myself I wouldn’t let this happen to me. That I would learn from his mistake.”
“We need to talk about this, Trent.”
“How far along do you think you are?”
“I haven’t had my period in two months.”
He fists his wet hair between his fingers and groans. “Do you plan to keep the baby?”
“Yes,” I say without hesitation.
He leans back against Tucker’s bed, his long legs stretched before him. “Are you sure it’s mine?”
My cheeks burn from his question. Tears stream down my face, and I cover my eyes. Furious, I get up from the bed, hovering over him. “I knew you wouldn’t take this well, but I didn’t think you’d act like this. I thought you were different, Trent.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Jem. I’m fucking freaking out. I feel like my heart is going to break through my chest. I need a minute, okay? Just give me some time to process.”
“Imagine what I’m going through,” I shout. “You’re not the one who’s sick every day.”
Trent pushes himself up from the floor. I recoil when he reaches out for me. But as I move toward the door, he clutches my hand and pulls me toward him. I try to fight him, but his grip is too firm.
Trent cradles my head against his chest, and I cry until my body stops shaking. “I’m sorry, Jem.” He speaks the words against the shell of my ear, and I stir in his arms. “I’m an asshole.”
“How could you ask if the baby is yours?”
“It’s a legitimate question. You were in a serious relationship with someone else before we met.”
“That ended over the summer.”
“You saw Corey during Thanksgiving break when we were broken up.”
“Nothing happened with Corey.” I peel myself from his arms and take a step back. “This baby is yours. Go ahead and be in denial all you want. I can raise a baby with or without you.”
I lift my purse from the bed and blow past him, flinging open his bedroom door. More tears slide down my cheeks, which are now streaked with mascara. I must look like a hot mess, but I don’t care as I descend the stairs to the first floor.
Jamie glances over his shoulder when my feet hit the bottom landing. A confused but concerned look crosses his face.
“You okay?” Jamie asks me. “Shan,” Jamie calls out. “Get in here.”
I wipe my face with the back of my hand. “Never better,” I lie before I rush out the front door, slamming it behind me.
My heart cracks open, spilling onto the pavement in front of Trent’s house. At least, that’s how it feels after the conversation we just had. I knew he wouldn’t take the news well, but I never expected him to act like a complete jerk. Doubled over in front of the house, I clutch my stomach and let the tears fall until I hear a voice I recognize.
“Everything okay?” Shannon asks from behind me.
When I look up, Shannon’s standing before me with her hands on her narrow hips.
“I guess it depends on your definition of okay,” I deadpan.
She wraps her arms around me, removing some of my anxiety with her warmth. My Big Sister has had my back from the beginning. I should tell her what’s happening, but I’m terrified she will judge me or relay the information to Abby and the rest of my sorority sisters. At some point, I will have to confide in my sisters. But what will they say? Will they throw me out, cast me aside, and forget I exist?
Fear rocks through my body, causing me to tremble in Shannon’s arms. Instead of speaking, she holds me until I cry, comforting me with her presence. She seems to understand what I need without exchanging words.
“If I tell you something,” I mutter, “do you promise not to say a word? To anyone. I can’t risk The Queen getting her hands on this information.”
“Yes,” she whispers, relaxing her grip on me. “I promise. You can trust me.”
Deep down inside, I know this to be true, so I spill my guts to her about Trent and my pregnancy.
Her mouth and eyes are wide with shock after I finish the story. “Wow. I can’t believe Trent said that to you. What an asshole. He’s usually the more levelheaded of the twins. I’m so sorry, Jemma. If you need anything, you can always count on me. That’s what Big Sisters are for.”