James Knight: Teenage Superhuman - Book Three

Ten

NOAH

My Dad and I found ourselves in the kitchen, sipping caffeinated soda, contemplating a delicate conversation about Sarah's pregnancy. Despite my fear, I knew I couldn't let it stop me from speaking the truth. Instead of owning up to my concerns, I pointed the finger at Bryce and his overly virtuous behavior.

"Dad, what if I wanted a kid?" I asked, catching my father off guard and causing him to choke on his soda. He hastily spat it into the sink, his eyes locking onto mine as he gulped down the last remnants of his drink.

"What, Noah?" He inquired, giving me his full, uncomfortable attention. I shifted on my stool, taking a long sip of soda and momentarily avoiding his gaze.

"What if I wanted to have a baby with Sarah?" I repeated. Sam remained silent, unsure if I was serious, before exhaling deeply.

"Noah, you're sixteen! It's not something you should even be considering-"

"Why not? You had a child at sixteen. Alex told me-"

My dad's voice thundered as if two decades of pent-up anger had suddenly erupted. He crushed his soda can and placed it in the sink before him. "Did Alex also mention how he drugged me and manipulated your mom and me into something we didn't want then? I guess my bastard brother conveniently left that part out."

"No," I sighed, leaning against the counter. If I had known that, I would never have broached the subject and risked angering my father.

"You're just a kid," my father continued, his voice softening as he leaned over the sink, taking deep breaths to regain his composure. I downed the remainder of my cola as we both caught our breaths.

"What if it's already too late?" I muttered as the tension began to ease.

"What?" My father's eyes shifted from the dirty dishes in the sink to mine.

"Sarah's pregnant, Dad. Surprise, you're going to be a granddad," I stated, crushing my empty can in my palm and placing it on the counter.

"Are you serious right now, Noah?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. Sam's gaze remained fixed on mine, and he appeared much calmer.

"How long have you known?" he inquired.

"She took the test the other day in the girls' bathroom, and she was already about two and a half months pregnant when we found out. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Dad."

"Noah, please tell me you're joking," Sam groaned, his eyes again shifting to the dishes in the sink.

"I wish I could," I muttered, and a deafening silence descended once more as we both struggled to catch our breath.

"Dear God, Noah!" my father finally exclaimed, hunching over the sink and taking deep breaths. "What am I going to do with you?" he panicked, gripping the edges of the white porcelain sink.

"Look, she's almost three months pregnant, whether you like it or not, Dad. I'm not even sure I'm comfortable with it yet, but I don't have a choice-"

"You're right. You made a big mistake, and now you have to live with it," he said, pulling away from the sink.

"Six and a half months, Dad. That's how long Sarah and I have to prepare for this baby. I'm still figuring out how to get the money to support a child, let alone take care of one. I-" I huffed another deep breath, letting the reality sink in.

My father walked over, placed his palm on my shoulder, and rubbed his hand down my back. "You're not alone, Noah. I'll help as much as I can. But you're sixteen. It's so young for a baby. You can't even take care of yourself, let alone a child-"