Page 2 of The One I Love
“Let’s not test that theory. Especially if I’m about to join the Army. I feel like I’ll lose my edge if people find out I’m a softie.”
That’s partially true. I am a softie, but only for the people I care about. And to drunk girls I don’t want taken advantage of. And dogs. You can’t not care about dogs.
“Your secret, like so many others, is safe with me.”
I smile as I look over to Amelia. She knows so many of my secrets. We’ve been best friends our entire lives. Our moms were best friends, so we grew up together. We went to junior prom together because neither of us had dates. I got in my first fight at school protecting her in fourth grade. She’s the only one in the world who knows that I’m scared of squirrels and why I won’t eat any white-colored condiments.
Yet there’s one secret she doesn’t know. And it’s a secret I don’t think I’ll ever tell her.
“Thanks,” I say, needing to look away so I don’t give myself up. I do this often. She thinks I’m being aloof, but I’m not. It’s just me protecting myself so I don’t do something stupid like kiss her. Because she’s not mine to kiss. “Are you having fun?”
“Surprisingly, I am.”
“Why surprisingly?”
She leans back, holding herself up with one hand while the other rubs her stomach. “When you’re three months pregnant, still throwing up at random times, and want to go to bed at eight every night, fun isn’t exactly in the vocabulary. Or at least, I have a different definition of fun these days that doesn’t include beer pong or a game of quarters.”
I still can’t believe Amelia’s pregnant. When she told me, I was in shock. So were the guys when she told them right before graduation. Still, none of us said a word. Not even Simon, who usually can break any tense moment with a well-placed joke or inappropriate statement. But we were all stunned and silent. That is until Amelia broke down and started crying. I still remember the second she fell into my arms and started sobbing, wondering what she was going to do. How was she going to raise a child when she still felt like one? She didn’t have a job. She was supposed to go to college next year, but had to defer. She felt like her life was falling apart.
But, like we always do, we assured her we’d be there forher. Wes started researching everything there was to know about babies and pregnancy, and looked up every doctor, hospital, and midwife in Middle Tennessee. Simon set up bank accounts and called around to every business in Rolling Hills to see who was hiring. I took it upon myself to build her a rocking chair. I figured she could use one when the baby came. And Oliver did what he does best—he planned an event. So last week, four eighteen-year-old guys threw a baby shower for their best friend. The girl who completed our group. The girl who has always been our voice of reason when we were about to do something stupid.
The girl I’m in love with.
“Well, thank you for coming.”
She shoots me a look like I’m crazy. “I would have come if I was in the middle of birthing this child.”
“I know,” I say, a sadness falling over me. “And I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That I’m not going to be here.” I look down to her stomach then back up to her. “I hate that I’m not going to be here for you.”
And I do. I’ve known for a long time that I was going to enlist after high school. That was my path from the beginning. But when Amelia told me the news, I almost withdrew my papers.
“I know,” she says, sitting up and taking my hand and holding it between both of hers. “But I’m going to send you pictures. And videos. And I’m sure Simon or Oliver will at some point start making a documentary from it.”
I laugh, because that sounds exactly like them.
“And, you know, Paul will be here. He’s not going to leave me hanging.”
Just the mere mention of Amelia’s boyfriend-slash-father ofher child sets my blood boiling. Out of every guy she could have been with, she chose that fucking dickhead.
“Will he, though?” I look back toward the house through the window and see that asshole chest bumping with one of his minions after making a shot in beer pong.
“Shane…”
I hold up my hands in defense. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Except I’m not. It’s just easier to say that instead of getting into another fight about Paul. It’s the only thing we’ve ever fought about. He’s an asshole. A cocky prick who thinks just because he can throw a football and his dad owns the town’s car dealership that he’s God’s gift to mankind. I don’t know what Amelia sees in him. And why, out of all the guys at Rolling Hills High School, she had to go for him.
And it wasn’t just a little flirtation. The woman tried to join the football team junior year to get his attention. Granted, she was always a tomboy, but trying to play high school football to get a guy is a whole other level.
And it worked. Eventually. They started up right after junior prom. Now, just over a year later, she’s pregnant with his baby.
“They want me and Paul to get married.”
Her statement takes me by surprise. “Who?”
