Catch Twenty-Two (Westover Prep 2)

Chapter 37Zeke

Pregnant.

A baby.

A fucking baby.

She’s having a baby.

My baby.

We’re having a baby.

I can’t even wrap my head around this new information enough to know what to do.

Unable to handle being mere feet from her and not being able to go to her is killing me.

I played this entire thing wrong. The urgency to take her in my arms that filled my blood the entire drive to Westover all those weeks ago has never waned. I handled the entire thing wrong. Fear kept me from reaching out to her that very first day, and it’s eaten me alive from the inside every second since.

Telling her how I feel makes me vulnerable, and that’s the last thing I need right now, but she’s pregnant. She’s vulnerable. Our baby is vulnerable.

I hit the stairs, taking them two at a time as I rush out of the house. I can’t be so close to her right now, and I have no idea how to play this. I’m no fool. I know telling her everything right after finding out she’s pregnant would only look like I’m doing it because of this news. She’d reject me in a heartbeat, just like she did mere moments ago.

I’m so freaking lost right now, feeling the need to do something stupid just so I gain a little control back over my spiraling life.

A drive sounds like the perfect idea, but when I climb into my truck and crank it, I have no idea where to go. School is out of the question. I’m too raw right now to face those preppy idiots with nothing of substance to say. There’s a pull to visit my dad’s grave but Utah is so far away, that’s not reasonable either.

So I drive around town with no real direction, ending up at a small park near the center of town. I’ve been here before. A couple of the guys met up days ago to drink a few beers and of course talk football and easy girls. I tagged along with Linc just to get out of the house and put a little distance between Frankie and me. It didn’t help then, and it doesn’t seem to help now.

The park is different in the daylight than it was a couple of nights ago. Now, there are small groups of children playing, running around and laughing as they chase each other. Two little girls with pigtails and rosy cheeks play in the dirt, uncaring if they get their clothes dirty.

Several little boys use sticks they found to sword fight, laughing without an ounce of seriousness when they best their playmates.

As I watch, I feel a smile begin to form on my face.

What are the chances that the same night my dad took his last breath, I created another life?

That has to mean something, right?

I guess one could argue that it was the stupidity of tossing the frustrating condom to the side and entering Frankie bare that lead to our current situation, and fate had nothing to do with it, but I can’t see it that way.

And honestly, even though we’re too young to have a baby, the situation is coming, and there’s no way around it. This is happening, and with that realization, I spend the next couple of hours staring off into space trying to figure out my life.

Football, school, having a good time and not worrying about anything all falls to the side. I have one obligation now, and the longer I think about it, the harder it is for me to crank my truck and drive back to the Young’s house.

Going by Frankie’s reaction earlier, she isn’t going to be ready to talk about what happens next, and I’m terrified she’s going to shove me away like I’ve done to her a million times just to protect herself from me, protect the baby from me. That stings, but I understand it, too. I haven’t given her any reason to trust me. The connection we have has been built on anger, sadness, and a chemistry I can’t even begin to explain.

She doesn’t trust me, and as much as I want to build that trust, I bet she isn’t even willing to give me a chance.

I don’t realize I’ve spent the entire day sitting in the park watching kids play until the setting sun glares in my face on the drive back. My frustration doubles when I pull up in front of the house and see her dad’s car in the driveway. Of course, today of all days he would be home. Both of her parents are gone for weeks at a time, and tonight when I need to talk to her about the most important thing in our lives, he’s here.

Still feeling like a stranger and definitely unwelcome here, I barely resist the urge to lift my knuckles and knock before walking inside.