“Well,” he said, “shit.”
That was the second time I ever spoke to Gibson Evans, the father of my child. The second time we spoke and I had to tell him that I was pregnant with his kid.
So far, things were not off to the best start.
3
Gibson
I stared down at Avery, not sure what the hell to say.
So far, every time I met someone, they inevitably came to me with their hands out, expecting something. That was what happened when you got to my level, or at least that was what people told me. Coach was constantly telling me to just say no to everything.
I had assumed Avery was the same, and I immediately regretted making that assumption. I had known Avery was different the second I met her, but I’d gotten so used to treating people as if they wanted something from me that I had instantly assumed the same about her.
But this, I couldn’t have expected this.
I’d worn a condom. I knew I had put one on; I always put one on. I wasn’t fucking stupid.
Still, just looking at her, I knew she was telling the truth. Maybe there were people out in the world who would fake being pregnant just to get a handout from an athlete, but not Avery. I could see the genuine fear in her face, hear it in her voice. She wasn’t asking for anything, but seemed like she genuinely just wanted me to know.
“Gibson?” she asked nervously.
“Yeah,” I grunted. “Yeah, sorry. So, uh, what do we do?”
“Nothing, I guess,” she said. “I just wanted you to know.”
“Okay,” I said. “Sure. I understand.”
“Shit,” she said, laughing a little. “This is so awkward.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah. No kidding. This is a first for me.”
“Yeah, same. Never had to tell a stranger that I’m pregnant with his baby before.”
“Oh, I do that all the time,” I said. “I’m just not used to hearing it.”
“Of course. I’m sure you tell people that all the time.”
“Comes with being an athlete, I guess. I’m just constantly telling people that I’m pregnant.” She laughed softly and I sighed. “Look, let’s not make this our last conversation. I’m not just going to abandon you or something.”
“It’s fine,” she said, shaking her head. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I know that, but that baby is part mine, too. I don’t abandon my responsibilities. Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow? Same time, same place? We’ll talk about it more, I guess.”
She bit her lip and nodded. “Okay. That could be good.”
“I should get going. I have class early tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll see you here tomorrow, same time. And call if you need anything.”
“Sure. I have your number now.”
I stared at her for a second. Avery looked so small and scared and awkward. I wished I could pick her up and fix this shit, but I knew I couldn’t. The best I could do was not be a low-life asshole.
I waved to her as we parted ways. I headed back toward my apartment, my heart racing in my chest.
I had a lot of experience with low-life assholes. I grew up in a poor part of Texas to two drunk pieces of shit. My grandmother on my mom’s side practically raised me, though there was only so much an old woman could do. My parents were too drunk most of the time to do much of anything, so I had to learn to take care of myself.
That was how I found football, actually. I joined a league when I was young, mostly just to give me something to do on nights when my parents were drunk and my father felt like beating the piss out of my mother. Football got me out of the house and probably saved my life.
I knew what it meant to grow up with a deadbeat father. I was lucky I had found football, but I knew a lot of guys who weren’t so lucky. It was like a fucking epidemic of shitty parents where I came from, and most people fell through the cracks.
I couldn’t do that to my own flesh and blood. Sure, having a fucking baby was going to really make becoming a professional player a problem, but I had no other choice.
I headed back toward the apartment, my head buzzing, spinning, dizzy with questions. A few hours ago, my biggest worry was whether or not I was going to get through tutoring alive, and now suddenly I had a baby on the fucking way.
I slowly walked up the front walk of our apartment building and went inside. I slowly made my way up the stairs, not fucking sure what I was going to do.
I didn’t know shit about babies. I knew they were about the size of a football when they were first born, and that was basically it. I didn’t know how to feed one, change one, nothing. I’d never even held a damn baby before.