“What about Harvard?” Hope demands.
“I’m still going. Nothing’s changed.”
My friends exchange a look that says I’m hopeless and which one of them is going to break the news to me. I guess Hope wins, because she says, “You really think nothing is going to change? You’re having a baby.”
“I know. But there are millions of women who have babies every day and still manage to be functioning adults.”
“It’s going to be so hard for you. Who’s going to take care of the baby while you’re in class? How are you going to study?” She reaches across the table to squeeze my limp hand. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re making a mistake.”
My face grows hard. “I’m still going to Harvard.”
I don’t know if it’s my tone or my expression that convinces them that my mind is made up, but either way they get the message. Despite the lingering skepticism on their faces, they move on.
“Is it a boy or girl?” Carin asks. “Wait—Tucker’s the dad, right?”
“Of course Tucker is the dad, and I don’t know. We haven’t had the ultrasound yet.”
“What did he say when you told him?” Hope butts in.
That I’m not alone. “He’s okay with it. He didn’t burst into tears or shout in anger. He didn’t flip over a table or rage about the unfairness of it. He just held me and told me I wasn’t alone. I think he’s a bit scared, but he’s going to be with me every step of the way.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “And as much as I want to protect him, I’m going to hold on to his hand for as long as possible. It’s so damn selfish of me, but right now the idea of facing the future alone keeps me up at night.”
“That’s good, at least,” Carin says gently.
“He’s amazing. I don’t deserve him.” God, if my best friends are struggling with this, I can’t even imagine what’s going on in Tucker’s head.
Hope frowns. “What makes you say that? It’s not like you got pregnant alone.”
“He didn’t have a choice.”
“Bullshit. Every time you have sex, there’s a risk. No form of contraception is a hundred percent effective, not even a vasectomy. You want to go for the ride, you have to pay the price.”
“That’s a steep price.”
She waves her hand. “Which you’re paying too.”
“Can we stop being so depressing?” Carin pipes up. “Let’s talk about the important stuff. When are you getting the ultrasound? I want to start buying baby things.”
I open my mouth to say I don’t know when we’re interrupted by Carin’s phone. “Shit.” She digs it out and slides out of the seat. “It’s my advisor. I’ve got to take this.”
As she disappears toward the bathroom, Hope turns her worried gaze toward me. “Damn, B. I really hope you know what you’re doing.”
“So do I.” I know she loves me and that’s why she’s so concerned, but like Carin, I don’t want to dwell on the negatives. My mind is made up and all this second-guessing is only going to make me feel bad.
“I only want you to be happy,” she says softly.
“I know.” This time it’s my turn to reach across the table. “I’m scared, but this is what I want. I promise.”
She grips my hand hard. “Okay. I’m here for you then. Whatever you need.”
Carin comes back and pushes Hope over. “I’m going to learn how to knit,” she announces.
“Knit?” I echo wryly.
“Yeah, baby booties. You’re five months along? That gives me about four months to learn how to knit, so be prepared to be amazed and awed by my new skill.”
I finally crack a smile. “Consider me prepared.”
In more ways than one, but hey, I’ve got my friends and I’ve got Tucker, which is more than I thought I’d ever have and more than I probably deserve.
But I’ll take it.
25
Tucker
The kitchen is so silent, I feel like I’m in church. Not that I’ve been to church often. Mom dragged me to a few Sunday sermons when I was a kid, until finally admitting that she’d way rather sleep in on the weekends. I was totally on board with that plan.
But right now, it’s not God and Pastor Dave passing judgment on me—it’s my closest friends.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell us sooner?” Garrett.
“You’re seriously keeping this kid?” Logan.
“Sabrina fucking James?” Dean.
I tighten my grip around my beer bottle and scowl at Dean. I blame him for this little powwow. Two seconds after I told him and Allie the news, he’d sent an SOS to Garrett and Logan ordering them to get their asses home. They’d been at the dorms with their girlfriends, and now I feel like a jerk for spoiling their nights.
“Guys, why don’t you let him talk instead of shouting questions at him?” Allie speaks up in a cautious tone.
I can tell she doesn’t want to be here for this, but Dean dragged her into the kitchen with us, latched his hand onto hers, and hasn’t let go since. I don’t get why he’s so pissed about this. It’s not like he’s the one about to become a father. And I know for a fact he’s not still into Sabrina, because he looks at Allie like she hung the damn moon. The two of them hit a rocky patch after Beau’s death, but the last couple of months they’ve been disgustingly in love.
“Tuck?” Allie prompts, tucking her blonde hair behind her ear.
I take a terse swig of my beer. “I don’t have much else to say. Sabrina and I are having a kid. End of story.”
“How long have you been seeing her?” Logan demands.
“A while.” Their frowns tell me they don’t like my response, so I add, “Early November.”
Logan looks startled. Garrett doesn’t, which makes me narrow my eyes at him in question.
“I suspected,” he admits.
The other guys swivel their heads toward him in accusation. “What do you mean, you suspected?” Logan echoes.
“It means I suspected.” Garrett glances across the table at me. “Saw you holding her hand at Beau’s memorial.”
When a flash of guilt passes through Dean’s eyes, I know he’s thinking about how he got piss-drunk in his room instead of attending the memorial service for one of his best friends.
Logan turns back to me. “So it’s serious with you two?”
Laughter sputters out. “We’re having a baby. Of course it’s serious.”
Or at least I’m planning for it to be. Sabrina still needs time, though. Time to fully get a handle on this pregnancy stuff. Time to lower her guard and realize she can trust me. Time to lower that guard even more and realize that she loves me. Because I know she does. She’s just too scared to admit or acknowledge it, to me and to herself.
“Why didn’t she get an abortion?”
Dean’s question elicits a gasp from Allie, frowns from the guys, and an angry scowl from me.
“Because we decided to keep it,” I say harshly.
Everyone flinches. I’m pretty sure they’ve never heard me snap at anyone before. Usually I don’t, but Dean is treading dangerously close to I’m-going-to-beat-him-senseless territory. I get that he doesn’t like Sabrina, but he will damn well show her respect, even when she’s not in the room.
“Hey. Let’s relax, okay?” Garrett proves why he’s our team captain by speaking in a calm, pacifying voice.
Though, I realize, he’s not Dean’s captain anymore, because Dean got kicked off the team back in January. I think failing that drug test was one of the catalysts for his dragging himself back to the land of the sober. That, and Allie.
“This is Tuck’s life,” Garrett goes on. “We have no right to judge his decisions. If this is what he wants, then we’re going to support him. Right?”
After a beat, Logan nods. “Right.”
Dean’s jaw tightens. “This is going to ruin your life, man.”
It’s getting harder and harder to control the anger simmering in my gut. “Well, it’s my life to ruin,” I say coldly. “You don’t get a say in it.”
“What about Harvard?” he pushes. “Is she still gonna go?”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head. “Does she get how time-consuming law school is?”
“Of course.”
Another shake of his head. “So she’s dumping all the responsibilities on you?”
I instantly come to Sabrina’s defense. “No, we’re sharing the responsibilities.”
More head-shaking.
Swear to God, if he doesn’t stop doing that, I’m going to rip his blond head right off his neck.
“Dean,” Allie warns.
“I’m sorry, but I think this is crazy,” he announces. “That girl is colder than ice. She’s judgmental. She’s—”
“The mother of my child,” I growl.
Dean growls back. “Fine, whatever. Go ahead and destroy your life. What do I care?”
My mouth falls open as he marches out of the kitchen. Seriously?
There’s a long silence, and then Allie gets up too. “I’ll go talk to him,” she says with a sigh. “Ignore him, Tuck. He’s just being a dickhead.”