Hard Luck (Trophy Boyfriends 4)

I sink back down under the water, blowing bubbles on the surface like a hippo might do at the zoo.

Ugh!

Which reminds me: I have a guy to text back as well. One who wants to cook me some food—or have his mother do it.

“Can I ask you something?” Molly puts down her phone after sending a message—presumably to the unlucky Nate—to give me her full attention once again.

“Sure.”

“Who is your baby’s father?” There is no hesitation in her voice, no shy pausing. She wants to know so she’s asking, and it shocks me that this confident girl is afraid of a timid pubescent boy.

“It’s complicated.”

“What is that supposed to mean? That it could be one of several people and you’re not sure?”

Is that what she thinks? “No! That’s not at all what that means.” I splash at the water. It’s starting to get cold, which means I should be getting out, or I should run more of it. “I meant…he’s not in the picture.”

“Why? Is he a deadbeat?”

“No!”

Her face scrunches up. “Well what did he say when you told him you’re pregnant? Was he pissed?”

God, these questions are making me feel horribly guilty because Mateo has done and is none of these things people will assume about him if I don’t tell him soon and let him into my—and the baby’s—life.

Crap.

“No, he wasn’t pissed.” I can’t even look Molly in the eye.

“Well…what did he say?”

“He…well, the thing about that is…he, um…”

“Wait—oh my god, is he dead?” Molly’s hands fly to her mouth as she gasps out the realization that the baby’s father may have perished.

“He’s not dead, he just…I’m taking my time telling everyone the news.”

There.

That’s putting it diplomatically.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

I do one of those awkward, clenched smiles. “That depends…what is it you think I’m saying?”

“That you haven’t told him yet!”

I disappear below the water, plunging down into my brother’s deep, sunken tub to hide. When I bob back up to the top, Molly is still there waiting for me, disbelief written all over her pretty teenage face.

“Ms. Wallace!”

I disappear again, the moniker making me feel old when in reality, I’m young and immature and clearly should not be given the responsibilities God has thrust upon me.

I rise back up, wiping the water from my eyes. “Don’t say any more, please!” I beg her. “I suck, okay? I’m the worst person! I’m not fit to be a mother!” I cry, letting my bottom lip tremble.

Molly rolls her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic. Your life isn’t over—you’re having a baby, for crying out loud.” She reaches for a towel and sets it on her lap. “It’s way messed up that you haven’t told the dad yet, but you’re going to do it soon—I know you, and you’re not the kind of lady who’s going to keep it a secret.”

She has way more faith in me than I have in myself.

I sniffle, feeling dejected, reaching for the towel. “I’m going to tell him this weekend.”

“Good.” She stands. “Think of it this way: once you tell him, you won’t be alone anymore.”

“But I’m not alone.”

She shrugs. “Having your friends and family know is one thing, but having the guy who’s half responsible…be responsible with you is going to take a lot of the weight off your shoulders.”

Huh.

She’s totally right! It will take tons of the burden off me to have Mateo involved, and I bet he’s going to be incredible—if not smothering, wanting to help any way he can. Plus, his sisters?

Why haven’t I thought of it that way?

How is this fifteen-year-old wiser than I am?

Molly the Omniscient leaves me in privacy, and I rise to towel off my wet, pregnant body, stepping out of the tub and pulling the stopper on the drain.

The plate of brownies has been left behind, so I snatch another one up and pop it in my mouth whole, Molly’s words about needing to eat more echoing in my brain. Don’t eat a ton of junk, but don’t not eat a ton of junk.

In goes the brownie.

Once I’m dry and wrapped in the bathrobe I left hanging on a hook behind the door, I slide into slippers and pull back the covers on the bed even though it’s still too early to commit.

When I’m done texting Mateo back, I’ll join Tripp on the couch if he’s made it home yet, but for now?

I can flirt a little.

Mateo: Ice cream, cake, pie, cookies?

Me: Yes

Mateo: Ha, you actually want all four? Because I will GIVE YOU ALL FOUR!

Fifteen minutes have gone by since he replied to his own message.

Mateo: You still there, or did you doze off?

Me: Sorry, I’m here! The neighbor girl, Molly, came into the bathroom while I was in the tub to ask me some advice, and she just left.

Mateo: Wait—so you were being serious about being in the tub? Wet and naked?