I fell in love with a nerd

Chapter Nine - I promise

Jake P.O.V.

"You're still trying to tell me that I'm the father?" I asked, incredulous.

The doctor had just revealed that Brittany was in fact three months pregnant. That meant, the night we didn't use a condom, she was already pregnant. I thought back about how careless she'd seemed about it and realized that she had already known she was pregnant. Was she trying to trap me into thinking it was mine? Did she think I was stupid? Ok, yes, it could still be mine if one of our previous times together resulted in a condom malfunction, but I was doubting it. Since I'd cut ties with her or tried anyway, I'd heard more and more stories about her. I knew that not all rumors were true, but usually there was at least a hint of truth to start the story to begin with. Not only was Brittany apparently screwing some guy who worked at the school, but she was also sleeping with a fellow student's dad, if the rumors could be believed.

"You know that condoms don't always work, Jake." Brittany said with a shrug. She didn't care that she was trying to ruin my future. I didn't have time for a baby. Ok, so I'd been immature about the whole sex thing until now. I shouldn't have been so liberated. I realize now that I should have taken it more seriously. I'm not ready to be a father. With that being said, if I did turn out to be the dad then I'd step up and do what little I could to help.

I sighed, "Look, they said it's too early to do a paternity test. So we'll have to wait for the baby to be born and then test. If you think that we're going to be a happy couple awaiting his or her arrival, you can guess again. Whether this baby is mine or not, doesn't change the way things are between you and I. We're done, Brit, and will continue to be done."

"What do you think social services would say if they knew that your little girlfriend wasn't actually living with her foster parents? Do you think they'd be ok with the fact that she was in fact living with her eighteen year old boyfriend?" Brittany stated and caused my heart to stop beating, before it kicked into double-time.

I growled, "Don't even fucking think about turning Melissa in. I wonder what social services would say if I tell them about the coke you used to snort every Saturday night. You aren't still doing that shit while pregnant, are you?"

Brittany started to cry and I knew her well enough to know that those were crocodile tears. So I knew that I had her. She wouldn't be turning Melissa in. My girl would be safe long enough to age out of the system, which she only had a couple more months to go. As soon as she was clear, I would be thinking seriously about making that call to social services about Brittany. Whether the kid was mine or not, he or she didn't deserve to have a coked out mother.

"So what are you going to do, play house with your little girlfriend until this baby is born? What's it going to be like after that? You, me, her, and the baby? Do you honestly think she would stick around then? She's going to grow tired of being a Step-mama so early in life. You know it and I know it." Brittany said nastily.

"We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it. I'm still betting it's not mine. Now, I did what I said I would do. I attended your doctor's appointment with you. That concludes my obligation to you for the day, so later." I said and walked to my truck, got inside and drove away, ignoring her angry screeching. Some people might say that I deserved what I was getting. I admit that I've been a real shithead over the years, especially to the opposite sex. Melissa was helping me see the error of my ways, however, so I was doing better. She'd made me realize that I was on a path toward turning into my womanizing father and I didn't want that.

I still remembered the first time mom found a lipstick stain on one of dad's dress shirts. I thought World War III was about to break out. Instead, they both went to bed mad and the next day acted like nothing happened. A couple weeks later, dad came home with a hickey that hadn't come from mom and the fighting started again. I expected mom to pack us up at that point, but again nothing came of it. I wondered why she was putting up with the fact that dad was clearly cheating on her. It was a third incident that finally broke the camel's back. Mom and I had gone to the Farmer's Market one Saturday and came home to find my dad kissing the neck of some slut in our kitchen. I had been so shocked that I froze in place, unsure what to do. Mom, however, calmly walked straight to her knife drawer and pulled out the biggest one. She'd waved that knife at both of them, until they'd left. I thought she would cry, but she didn't. She'd gone into my parent's shared bedroom and started throwing my dad's belongings out the window. She'd been fairly calm while doing it too, which had scared the shit out of me. After she'd emptied the room of my dad's stuff, she'd gone out to the yard and took garden sheers to all of my dad's clothes.