Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Katelyn comes in and lays next to me. “How’d it go?”
I tell her and she cries for me. I don’t have any tears left. They’ve dried up. She tells me how evil Sterling is and how I shouldn’t believe anything he says. His words are there though and he’s not wrong, his son left me and I’m pregnant. I’m every cliché you can think of and there isn’t a thing I can do about it. They know where he is and unless Bianca is willing to do something about it, my child will never know their father.
But this child will know love. I’ll move mountains to give this baby the best life possible.
Liam and his parents be damned.
chapter 7
. . .
“Good morning, Josephine. What can I do for you?” Mrs. DeFasio says when I enter her office. I have met her once before, during my official school visit, but other than that I haven’t had a need to see her.
Her office is like all the others, with a desk, hard chairs for students to sit in, a small sofa, and a view of the campus bowl, where students hang out. On her walls, she has artwork of the beach, along with photos of her family.
That’s why I’m here, because of my growing family. I can’t keep my pregnancy a secret for much longer and I don’t want to be expelled from school or kicked out of my dorm room.
“Good morning.” I smile softly and sit down on the sofa. She joins me. It’s funny how you never think you need a guidance counselor, until you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Yet, here I am, pregnant, feeling rather depressed, and muddling my way through classes.
Clearing my throat, I cross my arms over my mid-section. It’s a habit I’ve developed since I started showing. But then I tell myself I’m here for help, and I can’t hide this anymore.
“I’m pregnant,” I say, holding her gaze. Her eyes do nothing. They don’t widen in shock or turn to slits like most people who tend to judge me. “It happened before I started school and . . .” I trail off because there’s nothing left to say.
“Anyway . . .” I rub my hands over my pants legs and look anywhere but at her. “I guess I’m here for some options.”
“Am I allowed to say congratulations?”
I shrug. Am I happy? Yes and no. It’s hard to explain it to people. I am keeping my baby, at least that’s what I say each morning when I wake up, but at night I start to question myself. How am I going to raise a child on my own? I know I have the support of Katelyn and Mason, and my parents. Mason’s as well. But support only goes so far. How long until Katelyn doesn’t want to hang out with me because I’ll have a baby, or Mason’s too busy. They’re too busy.
Mrs. DeFasio gets up and closes her door, giving us privacy. “All right,” she says. “What kind of options do you want to discuss?” She hands me a cup of water and sits down next to me.
“Do I have to leave school?” I ask, my voice breaking. It’s really the only thing keeping me going right now, aside from this baby.
She shakes her head. “No, not at all. I can help you manage your schedule around your due date and the birth,” she tells me. “And depending on what you do, there is on-campus housing. However, it’s mostly reserved for athletes. Don’t ask me why they tend to get all the privileges around here, but they do. Let me see what I can, and I’ll get back to you on it. When are you due?”
“June,” I tell her.
“I know this is going to be a sensitive question, but are you keeping the baby?”
I nod, and then shrug. “I think so. I go back and forth with what I should do.”
Mrs. DeFasio puts her hand on mine. “Whatever you do, don’t sign any paperwork until someone else has looked it over. I have a lawyer friend who can read the contract for you. There are a lot of scammers out there and I don’t want you making a decision you’re not comfortable with.”
“Thank you,” I say as my eyes water. “I thought this would be a lot harder.”
“It doesn’t need to be. Babies happen. This doesn’t mean you have to give up your life.”
We stand at the same time, and I’m compelled to give her a hug. She holds me tightly and rubs her hand down my back.
“Let’s meet weekly, just to check in. And I’ll get to work on the housing side of things. What I need from you is to keep your grades up and think about your future and what you want to do. I don’t know where things stand with the father, but we do offer a parenting class at night. It might behoove you to take it.”