Worth It All(48)

Nope, she definitely didn’t look mad. She looked hot in tight jeans and a tighter red sweater, and, as always, it was hard to say no to her. “Sure.” She was already halfway around to the passenger side before he hit the unlock button.

Hot or not, they were not getting back together. No way. College classes were too hard, winter workouts were kicking his ass. He was done with drama. Done with girls for a while. He slid behind the wheel and she got in beside him.

“How was the wedding?”

“Good. Long.” He started the car, revved the engine once, then pulled out, wondering what her game was. Maybe she wanted to apologize for slapping him. Rachel could be sweet, but she was also spoiled and conceited, and so beautiful he hadn’t cared.

“How’s football?”

“It’s good.” Great, actually.

Stephen and Matt had seen him play in the last game, which was cool, and next fall chances were good they’d see him take the field as a starter. See him do something big, like maybe be the first wide receiver in nineteen years to win the Heisman. Even his coaches thought it was possible if he worked hard enough. He was one step closer to his dreams of playing pro football.

She fiddled with her purse strap. “That’s good. I’m really proud of you.”

He made the turn that wound through the woods to Rachel’s house. They were both quiet a minute. Another thing not at all like her.

“I have something to tell you,” she finally said.

Okay. He drew the word out in his mind, gave her a sideways glance, no idea what to expect. I’m sorry? I’m moving? I’m going to UNC instead of South Carolina?

“I’m pregnant.”

He stopped breathing. His lungs seized until the pressure in his chest became too much and he sucked in a breath. He hadn’t heard her right. They used a condom. Always. Almost always. But she was on the pill. “That’s impossible.”

“Well, it’s not impossible because I am,” she said, a touch of haughty impatience in her voice before it softened again and she smiled sweetly. “I just found out, and I knew you’d be coming home for the wedding, so I wanted to tell you in person.”

“You said you were still on the pill.”

“I am. Or I was.” She bit her lip. “I might have missed a few. But it’s too late now, right?” She turned in her seat to face him. “I’m due in September. We should get married soon. Before or after I tell my parents? They’re going to freak, so maybe we should get married before we tell them about the baby. What do you think?”

He couldn’t process, his brain in complete denial. “What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’? Did you hear me? I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

“Are you sure it’s mine?” Please, God, don’t let it be mine.

“I cannot believe you would ask me that! You’re the one that hooked up with another girl!”

This isn’t happening. His arms shook, he was gripping the steering wheel so hard. Sweat dripped down his spine and the wheel slid through his tight grip as he took another turn.

He was going to be a father. A husband. He’d get a job. No more college. No more football. No being something great. No catching up to his brothers, who were always ten steps ahead of him.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

His stomach rolled with nausea and…she was smiling. Smiling! He stared out at the road, barely seeing it.

“We won’t fight anymore, and both our moms will help with the baby. It won’t even be that hard. It’ll be fun.”

No. It won’t. It won’t be fun. He couldn’t breathe.

“I’m nineteen years old,” he muttered under his breath, knowing she was just as young, but…this is what she’d wanted. This is what she’d asked him for. To stay home, to get married.

My brothers would have never done something like this.

“Slow down.”

Bare winter trees flew past on his left, but he didn’t slow down, as if maybe he could outrun this. His car the only thing he had to hold on to, the speed the only thing he could control.

Rachel went on and on. Where they would live, job ideas she had for him, and he was sick. He had the tedious and fleeting thought he should pull over so he didn’t puke in his car.

“Aren’t you excited?”

He struggled to breathe.

Quit football. Quit school. Get a job. Support a family.

His heart pounded painfully and his chest squeezed. Rachel was hammering at him, screaming at him. I don’t want this. I don’t. He needed air.

“You should be happy! It’s your baby!”