Nineteen

Chapter Ninety-Eight

I stand above him. My arms are shaking and my body feels as if I'm somewhere else. I think I could actually throw up.

I haven't wrapped my mind around what is happening, but I think he should know just as much as I know.

He raises up. "I care about you, but I don't know how to show it. This is all new to me," he says.

I ignore the fact that he's made little real effort and is saying this stuff, but I know that what he is saying is at least true.

"Let me figure it out," he says as he crosses his arms under his head.

"Why would you suddenly want to figure it out now?" I ask, getting off of my task.

He raises up. "I have only had feelings for one other person. I was young, and I'm sure those feelings were puppy love. I've seen sex to never be related to love, so every woman I've had it with meant nothing."

I narrow my eyes. I really don't know what he's trying to say.

"Usually, I would have tried to sleep with you on our first date," he says, "but I feel different. I haven't figured it out yet."

I look at him. I'm imagining him holding a new born, changing a diaper, and I just can't see it.

He continues. "I have never wondered what someones eyes look like in the sun, or what color toothbrush they have. I drove myself mad one day wondering what kind of socks you decided to wear, because you like to match them with your outfit on most days, but on others you couldn't care less."

"Why did you try to end things with me, then? Even if we aren't actually anything, we are obviously something," I ask.

"Because I'm not good for you. I know people always say that, but in this case, it's true. We're different, and I'm no good."

He lays back in his previous position. His tattoos are creeping up on his skin as they stretch. His wet hair is drying on the ends. His eyes are dancing from the above light. He has a smear of car grease under his ear, showing that he misses it in the shower.

"I'm pregnant," I blurt out.

He raises up. 

"What?" he asks. I nod my head.

"I found out today," I whisper, trying to control my emotions.

He doesn't say anything. He stands from the couch and walks into the kitchen. After a few moment, I can gather how he feels.

From here, I can hear the glasses smashing against the wall. I can feel the tears building in my eyes with every cling of glass.

I stand and take a moment to gather myself. Right as I walk through the room to the door, I can hear him walking back into the room.

I turn around and look at him. His eyes are red, and I can almost see wet spots on his cheeks.

"Are you sure?" he asks. His chest is rising and falling at a rapid pace.

"The doctor said she ran a test. I haven't checked for myself or anything."

He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes. "Are you keeping it?" he whispers.

I nod to him.

He walks to the couch and sits on it, with his elbows resting on his knees. 

"Damn," he whispers as he rubs his face. "What do you want to do?"

I don't know how to answer that. I'm hours away form my family, and I can't go anywhere if he wants to be a part of this.

"Do you want to be a part of this?" I speak my mind.

He looks to me. "Yeah, I guess so." 

"You guess?" I ask, anger clearly arising. "What do you mean you guess?"

He shakes his head. "That's not what I meant, I just want to know what you want," he says as he stands from the couch.

"I want you to help me. I want you to be a part of this," I say as I poke my finger into his chest.

He throws his hands into the air. "Then I will!" He shouts.

He drops his head. "I just don't know how I'll be. I'm a shitty person," he whispers.

"Let's just take it a day at a time," I say, mainly because I don't know what else to do.

He wraps his arms around my body and we stand this way for some time. I take in his scent and I can hear his heart pounding through his body.

"Do you have a doctors appointment made, like a baby doctor, or whatever that shit is?" he asks after a while.

I almost giggle. "I only found out today."

He looks around. "I can't have a baby in a shitty frat house."

It hits me. "I can't have one in a dorm room."

"I'm not saying we run off and get married or anything, but we should think about moving close to one another or some shit," he says. "Don't worry about the money."

"I don't think a mechanic salary can pay for two places to live," I joke.