Wreck Me (Nova #4)(32)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

It started out all kisses and touches and passion and love, a wonderful escape from the reality of my life. But I should have been smarter. I knew better than to think life was a dream. And just like all dreams do, mine has come to an end.

I woke up.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up again,” I mumble as I sit down on the cold kitchen floor and cradle my stomach with my arm. “And I don’t even know how it’s possible since my stomach is pretty much empty from the last time I threw up.”

Conner peers over his shoulder at me. “Well, at least you got that whole glowing look going for you.”

I frown as I slouch back against the cupboard and wipe the sweat from my forehead. “Gee, thanks.” I sigh tiredly and shut my eyes, wishing I could just go to sleep.

“So, what do you think?” Conner asks and I hear him shut a cupboard. “Is this place the one?”

I force my eyes open and glance around at the distressed kitchen counters, the chipped tile floor, and the blinding yellow countertops that match the trimming of the entire apartment. “It’s kind of old and rundown, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but it’s only temporary until I get promoted, which should happen soon.” He crouches down in front of me, all smiles and happiness. I don’t know how the hell he does it—how he manages to be so happy when everything around us is spinning in chaos and uncertainty. Just under seventeen years old and I’m having a baby. In just over six months, I’ll be responsible for another human being yet I won’t even be at legal drinking age.

“Maybe you could sell one of your cars,” I suggest. I’ve always dreamed of living in a nice house with walls that weren’t stained with the residue of meth, and the rooms untainted with dark memories. I’ve dreamed of having a house that has a roof that doesn’t leak, a place that I could call my own.

But I’ve also dreamed of going to college when I turned eighteen. Getting a career. Finally being on my own. And that dream is looking pretty bleak right now.

“I can’t do that. Those cars mean a lot to me, Avery,” he says, his smile fading for the briefest moment, but it happens so quickly I can barely register it, let alone process the meaning behind it.

“I thought I meant everything to you.” I blame my weakness on my hormones but really part of it stems from the fear of being alone, pregnant, and living in that God-awful house with my mother.

He sighs. “Look, I promise things will get better just as soon as I get promoted. And if they don’t, the cars will go.”

“Okay, but”—I slowly inhale as another bout of nausea hits me—“what about Jax? I can’t just leave him.”

Conner’s happiness falters. “Av, as much as I love Jax, I don’t think we can have him live with us.” When I frown, he cups my face in his hands. “At least not until we get on our own feet. Maybe after the baby comes and we get the balance of being parents.”

I’m on the verge of bawling. “But what if I can’t?”

“What if you can’t what?”

“Find a balance.” Hot tears downpour from my eyes. “I mean, I’ve never had an actual mother to observe and what if… I suck. You’re lucky. You have a mom who showed you how the whole parenting thing works.”

“You won’t suck,” he promises as he sits cross-legged on the floor in front of me. “This is all going to work out. Things will be perfect. You’ll see.”

Sometimes I wonder if he really sees though. Ever since the day I told him I was pregnant, he’s been nothing except positive and happy about it to the point where I question if he really understands what’s going on, if he can see the bigger picture. That everything is going to change—that the days of having fun and staying out all night are gone.

That our dreamer days are over.

Gone.

“Yeah, okay.” Vomit burns at the back of my throat seconds later. I spring to my feet, shoving him out of the way as I rush for the bathroom. I’ve been this way for the last month and I’m getting sick of it. I did some searching online and found out that it could keep going on like this for the entire first trimester.

I puke my guts out for the next couple of minutes then lie down on the floor and press my overheated cheek to the cool linoleum. I’m not sure how long I stay that way, but it’s long enough that I expect Conner to come in and check on me. But after a lot of time drifts by and he doesn’t, I finally drag my ass back to the kitchen where he’s sitting on the cupboard, texting.

“Hey, are you doing okay?” he asks, preoccupied by his phone.

I nod as I cross the kitchen to him. “Yeah, but I can’t wait until this whole morning sickness thing wears off.”

He punches a few more buttons then puts the away and hops off the counter. “Me too,” he agrees, taking my hand. “I have an idea though, that might get your mind off it.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask with interest. “And what’s that?”

“There’s a party going on at the college that I got invited to. We should go.”

I frown and slip my hand out of his. “Conner, I don’t want to go to a party. The smell of alcohol alone will make me puke even when I’m not pregnant.”

Now he’s frowning.

Over the last two months, Conner has made a habit of going to a lot of parties. I try to tell myself that it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m pregnant and that he’s trying to grasp on to what little adolescence he has left.

“Come on, Avery,” he begs. “We always used to have fun at parties while being sober.”

I place my hand on my stomach. “And I used to not be pregnant.”

He’s livid, maybe more than I’ve ever seen him. For a second, the sweet boy that talked me into dating him no longer exists. “You say that like it’s my fault.”

“Well, it does take two people to create a baby.”

“You should have been on birth control,” he snaps.

“And maybe you should have worn a condom,” I retort, backing toward the front door. “Don’t pretend like this is my fault—it’s both of ours.”

“Whatever,” he mutters, turning his back on me. “I’m not even sure if it’s mine.”

I want to shout at him. I should shout at him. Conner is the only guy I’ve ever had sex with and he knows it. He’s acting like a child and it puts even more doubt in my head that we’ll be able to handle this whole parent thing.