Page 15 of Forever My Boy
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.”
“Thank you, I will.”
I take Mrs. DeFasio’s words to heart, and then one stings and makes me wonder if the Westburys will try to take my baby away from me. Surely, I’m a better fit than they are for parenting, especially considering Bianca is drunk most of the time and Sterling . . . well, he’s just a giant piece of dog turd. I’ll never understand how someone can be so disgusting to others.
On my way into the library, a fellow student hands me a flyer. I take it and stuff it into my bag and make my way to the fourth floor where I have rented a private room to study in. Mason spends a lot of his free time in mine and Katelyn’s room, and I know it’s because they’re watching me, waiting for me to collapse and crumble into a heap on the floor. I love them, but they hover a bit too much.
Am I depressed? Yes.
Do I spend an ungodly amount of time crying? Yes.
Did my life as I know it fall apart? Yes.
I feel like Liam died, and I need to mourn him and the relationship we had. With Katelyn and Mason always around, Ican’t do that. Deep down, I know things will be okay. They’ll get better with time, but time is infinite, and right now I just need to move through life at my own pace. As long as I eat, drink, sleep, and take my prenatal vitamins, I should be okay.
Never fine.
Just okay.
The private study rooms at the library are small like a cubicle, but with a door. The two best parts about the door is you can lock it and pull the shade down. I do both. I sit down, set my bag on the desk, and use it as a pillow. I need a nap. Ten, twenty, or thirty minutes, I don’t care. I need the peace and quiet from the noise in my mind.
Only, sleep evades because my brain can’t shut off. I have assignments due, a test, a growing baby in my belly, a missing ex, and life in general weighing heavily on me.
I dig through my bag and pull my books out. On top of the pile is the flyer the kid out front handed to me, advertising a new and upcoming artist who has a new hit out on the radio.
YOU’RE ALL INVITED TO LIAM PAGE’S LISTENING PARTY!
Liam Page Westbury.
Liam stares back at me.
The father of my baby.
He left me for a whole other life.
Now, it all makes sense. The nights he’d play his guitar or when he played the song he put on the tape—that last night in his truck. I try to remember the song, but I can’t. At the time, I liked it and figured he planned to give me the tape. But he hadn’t. He took it with him. Probably thinking I didn’t care.