Unexpected Turns: A Teen Pregnancy Story

Chapter 12

Tears well up in my eyes as I process the news. A son. I'm going to have a son. With my mom now aware of the situation, I have a feeling that things will be better from now on. The doctor informs us that I can leave the hospital at any time, reminding me of the question I've been meaning to ask. Turning to my mom, I gather the courage to speak up.

"Hey, Mom," I say, catching her attention as she fills out my discharge papers. "I have a question."

"What is it, sweetie?" she replies, her green eyes meeting mine, full of curiosity and concern.

"Can I stay the night with Greyson? We have a lot to talk about," I ask, my voice filled with hope.

She pauses, considering my request. I can see the wheels turning in her mind as she weighs the pros and cons. "You can come in and see my place," he offers, surprising me with his invitation.

I nod eagerly, unable to contain my enthusiasm. "Yeah, he has a nice house! You would love it!"

"Okay," my mom finally agrees, her voice filled with a mix of caution and understanding. "I'll follow behind you guys in my car," she adds, continuing to fill out the paperwork.

As we leave the hospital, Greyson and I ride together, our hearts full of anticipation. But before heading to his house, he pulls into a McDonald's drive-thru. I raise an eyebrow.

"I know it's not healthy food, but get whatever you want. You need to eat more," he says, his voice laced with concern. "I'll make us a big, nice dinner tonight."

I'm surprised by his offer. "You cook?" I ask, genuinely intrigued.

He smiles at me, his eyes filled with warmth. "Just wait and see," he teases, winking at me.

I contemplate my order as we approach the menu, and he waits patiently for me to decide. "Anything else?" he asks, his smile encouraging me to embrace my cravings.

"A quarter-pounder sounds good... Oh, and a Mc Café!" I exclaim, my eyes catching a glimpse of the chicken nuggets. "And chicken nuggets!"

He chuckles, his laughter infectious. He places my order, then adds a couple of hot 'n' spicy sandwiches for himself. As we wait at the window, I take the opportunity to text my mom and let her know I'm just getting food first.

But Greyson's question interrupts my thoughts. "So, have you and that Alex guy ever hooked up?" he asks, his tone awkward and uncertain. "I mean, you stay the night there a lot, don't you? I know it doesn't matter, I'm just curious."

I roll my eyes, frustration creeping into my voice. "His name is not 'that Alex guy,' and no, nothing has ever happened between us. He's been my best friend my entire life. He's like one of the girls in my eyes," I explain, growing tired of people questioning the virtue of our friendship.

"But you had sex before you were with me. Was it with him?" He continues to press the issue, his insistence on knowing annoying me.

"No! And how do you even know I had sex before that night? I could have been a virgin!" I snap back, feeling defensive.

"I can tell when a girl is a virgin, and you weren't. I just want to know," he replies, his voice tinged with frustration.

The frustration turns to anger as I lash out at him. "It wasn't Alex! Damn it, do you want me to question you about every girl you've been with?" I reply, my voice slightly raising.

He bites his lip, his expression filled with a mix of shame and vulnerability. "No... But I'm also not around any girls since I found out about the baby," he confesses.

I snort in disbelief, unable to hold back my frustration. "I'm not stupid, Greyson. I know you're still partying, getting high, and getting drunk with your friends. Who's to say you're not having sex as well?" I fire back.

He shakes his head. "I'm not. You don't have to believe me. Or even be my girlfriend. But I don't think either of us should see other people while you're carrying my baby," he states, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Well, no shit Sherlock. I'm not a whore," I retort, my tone sharp. "But this weird possessive jealousy you have against my best friend has to stop. Alex will be around me and our child for the rest of my life," I assert, my voice filled with stubbornness.

I can tell my words hit a nerve because Greyson clenches his fists around the steering wheel, his anger evident. The rest of the drive to his house is filled with an awkward silence, tension hanging heavily in the air.

As we pull up to his house, my mom parks her car right next to us. She steps out of the car and immediately exclaims, "Your house is HUGE!" Her surprise is evident in her tone. "And you just work as a mechanic?"

Greyson smiles, shrugging casually as he opens the front door for us. I can see his jaw is still clenched from our argument."My family has money," he explains.

I try to avoid his gaze, still upset at him. My mom takes a step inside and gasps in awe. The living room is huge, with a soft dark gray carpet and pristine white walls. A large flat-screen TV hangs on the wall, flanked by two glass bookshelves filled with movies and video games. A white sectional couch wraps around the room, and behind it, there's an open bar and a pool table. The living room itself is spacious and inviting.

"Your living room is bigger than my kitchen and living room combined!" my mom exclaims, her admiration evident. We had a nice house, but nothing like this.

He shrugs casually. "It's alright. I have everything I could ever need."

My mom, realizing she has to go to work, hugs me tightly and kisses my cheek. "I wish I could stay, but call me when you get home tomorrow. I love you," she says, her voice full of love and concern.

"I love you too," I reply, holding back tears as she leaves.

Now that we're alone together, I find myself staring at Greyson, unsure of what to say or do after our heated argument in the car. "I'm sorry, okay?" he finally says, breaking the heavy silence that surrounds us. "I just... I've heard so many rumors about you two, and I couldn't help but feel a little..." His voice trails off as he struggles to find the right word.

"Jealous?" I interject, my anger beginning to subside. Though I'm still pissed off, seeing the embarrassed tint of red on his cheeks softens my heart.

He nods, his eyes filled with sincerity. "I know it's stupid. I'm not usually the jealous type, but I can't help it. I'll try to drop it though, for you," he promises, reaching out to gently squeeze my hand.

I squeeze his hand back, forgiveness washing over me. At that moment, I feel flattered that this infamous bad boy, the boy who everyone desires, could feel jealous of me. It's a thought that fills me with a mix of surprise and warmth.