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But now, what will John say? Should I tell him even? It sounds like a bad idea because he obviously doesn’t want to see me. But this is important right? Fumbling with my phone, I try his number, not thinking straight. As always, it goes to voicemail. He’s blocking me, and now the sobs come out loud and intense. How did I end up in this situation? This is not how I thought my life would go. I wasn’t sure what my future had in store, but it definitely wasn’t as a single mom pining over the handsome man who left her.
Besides, it’s not like my brother and I are swimming in cash either. The leasing company’s already told me that I’m going to be let go next month, and Joey doesn’t make that much as a mechanic. How can I add a baby into the mix?
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door.
“Brit? Are you okay? I can hear you crying.” It’s my brother, and his voice is concerned.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. Unlock the door, Brit. What’s wrong?”
I don’t want to. Our family is in big trouble now, and I don’t want to confront Joey. To delay the inevitable, I take a picture of the test and text it to Taylor and Victoria. I pocket my phone before I can see their responses. I can already guess they’ll be shocked, but they won’t judge me. They’re my best friends for a reason.
Joey pounds on the door again, and this time, the cheap plastic frame rattles. “Seriously, Britney, open up.”
Reaching up, I unlock the lock. My brother stares at me, his brown eyes worried.
“What’s going on? What happened?”
I look him in the eye. It’ll be another month or two before I’m showing, but I can’t hide this from Joey. That’s not realistic because I need him more than ever right now. He has to know.
“I’m pregnant,” I manage to say in a flat voice.
Joey stares at me, his face cold. His eyes sweep over the pregnancy box, then to then indicator in my hand. He doesn’t say anything for a full minute, and frankly, it’s a little scary. I want to escape, but where would I go?
“Who’s the father?” Joey finally bites out.
I gnaw at my lip. I could lie and say it’s someone from school, but that doesn’t sound right. Corona High was filled with pimply, acne-stricken teen boys, and not anyone who could legitimately be called a man. I take a deep breath and blurt the truth.
“John Hemsworth. From ShopMore.”
Joey’s confused.
“Who?”
I take another deep breath.
“John Hemsworth. He’s the CEO of ShopMore. I used to work for him.”
At that, my brother explodes.
“What the fuck? The CEO? Your boss? That fucking bastard took advantage of you. How old is he?”
My lip trembles a bit.
“I think thirty-five or thirty-six? Somewhere around there. His family owns the ShopMore chain.”
That only makes my brother go more ballistic. His face grows purple and his eyes pop out from the sockets.
“What the fuck? You’re fucking eighteen! That asshole is literally twice your age! What kind of fucker does that, to a girl who works for him, no less? He knew you needed that job, and he took advantage of it. What did he give you? Free food? Coupons for discounted groceries? We were hard-up, but we weren’t that hard-up, Britney. What the hell? How could you?”
Tears pour from my eyes.
“No, that’s not what happened! We cared about each other.”
My brother scoffs.
“You know what, Brit? You’re not just young and naïve, you’re plain stupid. John Hemsworth never cared about you. I knew it was suspicious when you got that job, with no experience or qualifications. What the fuck? How could I have let you take that position? I knew it,” he rages.
I begin to cry.
“Stop, Joey, please. John didn’t do anything I didn’t want him to do.”
“You’re just a baby! How can you possibly know what you want?”
I cry again.
“It’s because I’m an adult, Joey. I like John. Haven’t you ever cared about someone so much you felt like you couldn’t breathe? That’s how it was with him.”
My brother looks at me with disgust.
“And now you’re pregnant. This is what happens when men take advantage of young women because you don’t even know how to take care of yourself! He overwhelmed you with his generous ways, right? Seriously, Brit, did he give you food? Is that why you slept with him, telling yourself it was because you were “in love” even as he fed you? FUCK!” he rages.
We’re both crying now, and everything is going wrong. I sob, even as I try to speak.
“Joey, please. Everything will be okay. I’ll figure this out. There has to be a way.”
But my brother is too distressed.
“How?” he asks, his hands pulling on his hair like he’s a crazy person. “We’re struggling as it is. We have no money. No savings. How are we going to feed another mouth?”
