Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Josh makes a face I can’t interpret. “Maybe marriage might make sense for people who want to have kids.”
There’s an awkward pause. Did he just backtrack? Are we meeting in the middle? Hmm. I do believe we are. Which therefore means I should leave it at that. But, oh God, I can’t. “Well, actually,” I begin, ignoring the warning bells going off in my head, “if you think about it, marriage makes less sense if you’ve got a kid with someone.”
He looks at me like I’ve just shouted, “Justin Bieber for President!”
“Because,” I continue, pissing off my internal life coach even more, “whether or not you’ve got a piece of paper from the government, once you have a kid with someone, that person’s gonna be in your life forever and ever, regardless. I think it’s more meaningful to choose to be with someone just because you want to make a life with them, not because you plan to make them a vessel for your mighty spawn.”
There’s an awkward silence.
I seem to have rendered Josh (and myself) speechless. What the fuck am I doing? If I were my own life coach, I’d be throwing my hands up in disgust saying, “You’re obviously completely un-coachable.”
James Bay’s voice fills the room for a very long moment.
“That’s kind of the flipside of what my dad always used to drill into Jonas and me,” Josh finally says. “He was obsessive about it, actually.” He puts on a booming, paternal voice, clearly imitating his father: “‘Boys, when you’ve got Faraday money, women will try to trap you into marriage with an ‘accidental’ pregnancy right and left—every goddamned time you fuck one of ’em. Don’t you dare let me catch either of you ever making an accidental Faraday with a woman unworthy of our name or I’ll get the last laugh on that gold digger’s ass and disown you faster than she can demand a paternity test.’”
My jaw drops. What the fuckity fuck?
“That’s why I’ve always been obsessive about wearing condoms,” Josh continues softly. “Way before I’d ever even gotten to second base with a girl, I was already freaking out about unwittingly creating an ‘accidental Faraday’ with some random woman who was ‘unworthy’ of my name and bank account.”
I clutch my stomach. I feel physically sick. What kind of father says all that to his young sons? Preaching safe sex is one thing, sure, I get that—especially when you’ve got a kajillion dollars to your name, I suppose—but a father conditioning his pubescent sons to think every girl out there is a gold digger and telling them he’d disown them if they ever knocked someone up is pretty fucked up, if you ask me. “Your dad sounds like he was a real peach,” I mumble.
“Oh, you have no fucking idea,” Josh says between gritted teeth.
A sudden panic rises up inside me. “Josh, I’m on the pill—you know that, right? I would never, ever do that to you—”
Josh looks ashen. “Oh, God, I know that. I didn’t mean—”
“I’d never, ever try to trick you into anything. In fact, we can go back to using condoms, if you want, every single time—”
“Kat, please. Stop. I know you’d never try to trick or trap me. I’m sorry I said—”
“We can use condoms,” I persist. I’m totally freaking out.
“Kat, please. Pretend I never said anything. I didn’t mean to imply...” He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “Jesus, my dad is the gift that keeps on giving, isn’t he? Listen to me, Kat, I know you’d never do that to me. The only reason I felt comfortable enough to tell you the fucked-up shit my Dad said is because I know you’d never do that.”
Oh, jeez. I’ve never been so relieved not to be pregnant in all my life. Last week, after losing sleep for two nights over that birth control pill I’d missed, I finally traipsed down to the all-night drug store and bought myself a pregnancy test. And when I peed on that little stick and it came back with only one little pink line, I let out the longest exhale of my life.
“I’m definitely not gestating an accidental Faraday,” I say, trying to sound light and bright but obviously not succeeding. “I’m a mill-i-on-aire now, remember? I don’t need to trap you for your stinkin’ Faraday money.”
Josh runs his hands through his hair. “Kat, please forgive me. I was just telling you what my dad said because... I don’t even know why I said it. I certainly wasn’t implying you were trying to trap me in some way or that you’d even think of doing that. I think I was just trying to reveal one of the many ways I’m fucked up to you—trying to explain why I might be unusually high-strung or weird about certain things.” He shakes his head and exhales. “I think I was just trying to... you know... take a stab at... emotional intimacy.” He makes a face that says, “I guess I still suck at it.”