[COMPLETED] There are two things you can count on in a small town, bad weather and boys who can make your heart thump faster than a horse's hooves
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Beatrice was used to her relatively quiet life, but th...
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"What am I going to do?" I whisper, sliding down the side of the bathtub, my hand gripped tightly on the positive pregnancy test. "I'm too young to have a baby."
The reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. There was no way I was going to be able to raise a child on my own, I was still a child myself. Hell, my eighteenth birthday was only a few months previous.
"Dad's going to be disappointed," I whisper, my voice cutting off at the tail end. "He's going to freak out and kill Keaton." I was sporadic, my kind jumping from scenario to scenario like a predator chasing prey.
My biggest fear was telling Keaton. The chance of him rejecting me was something I'd be willing to swallow. I just wouldn't be able to handle it if he rejected his child as well.
Keaton hadn't exactly been the easiest to talk to in recent months. At first, his distance was acceptable, he was a human being and needed time for himself. But after the first few weeks, it started to make me feel nasty.
He had gotten what he wanted from me and was done with me. Discarded me like the excessive amounts of paper napkins you get at a fast-food joint that doesn't care about environmental collapse; he threw me away like I was nothing.
I tried to stay positive but I just couldn't. His phone calls stopped being hours long, filled with a regurgitation of his day, and instead became a quick 'hello, school was fine.' and the only variation being school replacing work whenever he decided to pick up shifts at the garage.
I remember stopping by after cheer, hoping to find him there and set things straight. His boss, Ron, had told me that he hadn't been coming in for quite some time. Ron said something about how he thought I might have been the reason he stopped coming in, in his words Keaton, "Got his head too stuck in the clouds to keep it under the hood of a car." To which I tried not to giggle. Ron would have been an excellent English teacher if fixing cars wasn't his life dream.
I stand up from the floor and hide the test behind my hair gel under the sink, I was sure there was absolutely no way my Mother would find it. She was the type of woman to say something wasn't there if she couldn't reach for it. For the first time in forever, that fact would finally benefit me.
I closed the bathroom door softly and padded my way back to my bed. The feeling of the soft memory foam mattress under me lulled me to sleep.
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The next morning at breakfast was torture. I was forced to sit through breakfast with both parents.
It wasn't as if that was new because it wasn't. Every morning, being the only child, I sat down at the small dining table that faced the bay window of the kitchen and ate with my parents.
