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  Ashley and I could hang out at the public library after school or in the park, but I wasn’t allowed in her house, and her parents wouldn’t let her come over to my house. When she was with me she seemed happy enough, but I could sense that she was more than a little scared. She had gotten used to being the pregnant girl in school. I was less than comfortable with my role, but I could handle it.

  A couple of weeks passed, and we settled into a kind of “normal” routine. We’d gone back to Planned Parenthood a couple of times, and Ashley and I did a heck of a lot of talking about our situation. I’d also emailed back and forth with Mark for some of his thoughts. Have the baby, dude. It will change your life, he wrote once.

  And then another week passed. And another. Ashley was hardly feeling sick at all, and kids had seemingly lost interest in our situation. We were old news. We were sitting in the library doing homework together when Ashley said, “You want this baby, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” I finally said. “I want us to have the baby. I want to be there for you. And for the baby. I think we can do this.”

  Ashley was wide-eyed. She looked scared. “This doesn’t seem like it’s real.”

  I agreed. “I know. I find it hard to believe that by next year this time, we could both be parents of a little kid.”

  “That sounds so crazy,” she said, but she was smiling now.

  “Well, we’ve changed. We need to keep working at this.”

  “I know. It’s just that sometimes I wish that things could go back to the way they used to be.”

  I hugged her then, and she cried softly into my shirt. Truth is, I had a million doubts about what we were doing. Would she be strong enough to go through with it? Would the baby be healthy? Would I be a good father? Would her parents allow me to be part of the picture? Did I really want to make this commitment? But something inside of me kept saying this was the right thing to do despite all the odds. I didn’t say anything. I just closed my eyes and held her while the librarian at her desk looked over at us. But when she saw the frightened look on my face, she quickly looked away.

  Chapter Ten

  Strange as it may sound, both Ashley and I were doing better in school than we had been before she got pregnant. All that time hanging out together in the public library was paying off. We’d both cleaned up our act some. We stayed away from parties. Ashley knew she shouldn’t drink or do anything that might affect the baby. Yes, we started using those words: “the baby.” Sometimes we referred to it as “our baby.”

  At home, my parents had backed off. They were worried, for sure, but they kept a lid on it. Not Ashley’s parents. Ashley’s dad called my father at least once a week. He wasn’t screaming now, but he wasn’t giving up. When he called, my father always walked the cordless phone into his bedroom and closed the door. And he never told me what they talked about. And I never asked.

  But then I was blindsided.

  I came home for dinner one night and saw Ashley’s parents’ car in the driveway. I walked into the house to find Ashley’s mother and father sitting with my parents in the living room.

  At first I just stood there. No one said a word. Mr. Walker looked like a bomb ready to explode. His wife looked like she’d been crying. My mother just looked down at the floor, and my father—well, he looked to me like some kind of traitor.

  “What the hell is this?” I asked.

  My father stood up. “I think it’s time that we all sit down and talk about this together.”

  “This was my idea,” Ashley’s mother said timidly. “I persuaded your parents we should do this.” Mrs. Walker was a shy woman who had rarely ever spoken to me the whole time I’d known Ashley.

  “We all agree on one thing,” my mother added. “Ashley is going to have the baby, and we need to do what is best for her and the child.”

  But I knew there was more to this. I didn’t say a word. I was trying to keep control of my emotions. I felt like I was about to be bullied into something. I felt like I was being ganged up on.

  Mr. Walker cleared his throat and took a deep breath. In a very controlled voice, he said, “Zach, do you know what an intervention is?”

  I grimaced. “Yeah,” I snorted. “When someone is out of control, when someone is on drugs, people get together and try to force that person to change.” I paused and looked around at the faces in the room. “But no one is on drugs here. So what the hell is this?”

  “We’re here to help,” Mrs. Walker said. “We want to help both Ashley and you.”

  “Why don’t you sit down?” my mom said.

  “I’d rather stand.”

  There was an awkward silence.

  And then I heard the bathroom door open, and Ashley walked into the room. She looked like she wasn’t feeling too well. “Hi, Zach,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Did you know about this?” I asked her.

  She nodded.

  “But I don’t understand what’s going on here,” I said to her.

  She sat down in an empty chair and fidgeted with her hands. “Zach, I’ve been having second thoughts about keeping the baby. Maybe we should give it up for adoption when it’s born.”

  I felt rage rising up inside of me but knew I had to keep it together. I nodded at her parents. “They’ve been brainwashing you, haven’t they?”

  “No,” she said. Her voice was weak, and I could tell this was incredibly hard for her. “I just don’t think I’ll be a very good mother.”

  “But I would be there to help,” I said.

  Ashley just looked away and stared at the wall. I glared at my own parents— the traitors who had allowed this scene. Then I glared at Mr. Walker. At that point I guess he couldn’t contain himself.

  “Yeah, Zach. And what kind of responsible father do you think you’re going to be?” There was venom in his voice.

  I knew I couldn’t answer him. I was way too angry, and I’d regret whatever I said. I kept telling myself to keep it together. If I lost my cool, I knew that it would be playing right into what Ashley’s father wanted.

  Instead, I went over to Ashley and sat on the arm of the chair. I put my arm around her. Right then I wanted everything and everybody in the world to go away. I just wanted to be alone with Ashley.

  “There are many women out there who can’t have children,” my mom said. “It would be like a dream come true for them to adopt a baby. The child would have a good life.”

  “A normal life,” Mrs. Walker echoed.

  My dad stood up. “We’re going to go in the kitchen and leave you two to talk for a bit. Take your time. We’re not trying to pressure you into anything.” Those last words sounded hollow. This was so unlike him.

  As they left the room, I felt trapped. For weeks I’d been pushing all of my own doubts into a closet. I knew a thousand reasons why we should not keep the baby. A million maybe. But I believed we could beat the odds, even get both sets of parents onside. And now this.

  When they were gone, I sat down on the floor in front of Ashley, made her look me in the eye. “You okay?”

  “I’m not feeling well,” she said, “but I’m okay. I’m sorry about all this. It’s partly my fault. I wanted all of us to sit down together and talk. I don’t like having my parents hate you.”

  “But I thought we were okay with what we decided.”

  “I thought we were too. But it was more like what you had decided.”

  “We’re in this together,” I said.

  “I know,” she said. “But it’s been a while since we actually talked about it. Do you still feel the same?”

  The truth was, I had been thinking more and more that there would be so many impossible problems ahead. And I wasn’t sure about how I could handle them. But in the end, I always convinced myself I could handle anything. I could do this. I wanted to be there as a good father. I could see it through.

  “Yeah,” I said. “More than ever.”

  Ashley nodded. “I guess I was thinking I needed to give you a way out.
”

  “I don’t want out.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Then let’s stick to our plan. I’ll keep the baby. You’ll be there to help, right?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  Chapter Eleven

  We had about ten days of some kind of truce after that. Ashley’s parents seemed to have backed off. So had mine. At school, we were still the center of attention whenever we were together. The school counselor had called us both in one day, but she was totally cool about the whole thing. She said that there would be a “plan” for Ashley so that she could stay in classes as long as she wanted and then do work from home when the time came. And, of course, she’d be back in school after she had the baby. It seemed like at least one person was on our side.

  I had Ashley over to my house one night to watch a movie, and my parents seemed fine about that, even when they found us making out in the living room. And then Ashley invited me over to her house after school to study together there.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I said.

  “Yes, it is. If we’re going to make this work, my family is going to have to accept you.”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “My dad won’t be there,” she said. “And Stephen has promised to get off your case.”

  So I did go to Ashley’s house. We went there on the bus after school. Her mom was a bit chilly but polite. Ashley made me coffee, and we sat in the kitchen and talked. Well, Ashley talked. Sometimes she became a real motormouth. And it wasn’t like she was talking about us or the baby or our future or anything important. She was talking about what her friends were doing. There was Elisse’s new boyfriend, who was from France, of all places. And Jessica, who had gone shopping at the mall. And Maya, who had a new crush on Liam. And about the parties that we had not been going to. And about which guys in which bands she thought were cute. And it went on and on. We sure didn’t get much studying done.

  As I sipped my coffee, I was beginning to realize just how young Ashley was. Even though we were just a year apart, I felt like it was much more than that. I felt so much older than her. What had happened? I felt like I was missing a piece of the puzzle here. What was I getting myself into with this girl?

  Mrs. Walker walked in and boldly asked me if I wanted to stay for supper. I don’t know whose jaw dropped farther, Ashley’s or mine.

  But I wasn’t quite ready for that. Not the way I was feeling right then. “No thanks, Mrs. Walker,” I said politely. “Not tonight. But I’ll take a rain check.”

  “Sure. What’s your favorite food? I could cook you something special. Just don’t say pizza. I hate pizza.”

  I probably would have said pizza, but instead I lied, “Nah, I’m tired of pizza. What about lasagna?”

  “Lasagna it is. You pick the night.” As I got up to go, I kissed Ashley right in front of her mom. I knew I had crossed over some kind of a bridge. But that wasn’t exactly making me feel like a rock star. And, as I left the house, I found myself letting out a big lungful of air. Once I was beyond sight of Ashley’s house, I started running, slowly at first but then faster until I was breathing hard. When I slowed down, I realized I hadn’t even been running in the direction of home. I was down by the shops near the school. I slowed down by Java Junction and saw some of the kids from school inside. Sitting at a table by herself was Kiley. Kiley, who had been my girlfriend before I screwed things up. Kiley, who recently always seemed to be running into me in the hallways. Kiley, who right now was looking rather hot.

  She wasn’t looking this way. She was just sitting there staring into her cup, appearing to be rather lonely, while all around her other kids were in groups, laughing and having a good time. I thought about going in and just hanging with her for a while. I wanted someone to talk to. Someone other than Ashley.

  But I didn’t. I turned and walked away. I went home and sent an email to Mark in New Zealand. It went like this.

  Yo, Mark. Do you ever have days when you feel like your freedom has been stolen from you? Do you wish like hell that you weren’t a father? Do you learn to take flack from your girlfriend’s parents? Do you feel like the rest of the world is out there having fun and your life looks like prison? Or is it all truly worth it? Tell me that being a father is the best damn thing on the planet.

  Your buddy in North America,

  Zach, Future Super Dad

  Chapter Twelve

  The next day at school, something clicked. Kiley was still running into me way too often. And something had changed about her. Her hair, her clothes. She’d always been a good-looking girl, but now something was different. And that way she looked at me. Honest, I tried to ignore it at first.

  “I know what you’re going through isn’t easy, Zach. So I’m here for you any time if you want to talk. I’ve got a new cell. Here’s the number.” She slipped a piece of paper into my hand.

  That night I got an email back from Mark.

  Zach, dude. I don’t know how to say this without sounding like the world’s biggest turd. But that website thing— well, some of it is true. A lot of it is true, I guess. But, I mean, it was, like, this project we got a government grant to do. We told our stories, tried to put some smiley faces on the rough parts.

  But fatherhood when you are this age is about as rough as it gets. Sure, the whole baby-being-born thing is great. But then it kicks in. You think flack from the girl’s folks is the worst part? It isn’t. Losing your freedom is the worst of it. I can’t believe how much I miss some of the silly stuff I used to do—just hanging with my mates and that sort of thing.

  I had to stop reading then. This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Not now, not feeling the way I was already feeling. And that image of Kiley smiling at me kept popping up in my head.

  I swallowed hard.

  And then I read the next line.

  When I first started getting your emails, I thought it was, like, my role to encourage you. But now I know I was wrong. Dude, if you can bow out of this now, go for it. The world will not come crashing to an end. Sorry to have to say it, but there it is.

  Your buddy in Kiwiland,

  Mark

  I woke up in a sweat that night. Why couldn’t this all just be a bad dream? Why couldn’t it all just go away? And why was this happening to me? By the next morning, however, I had decided to not let any of it get to me. Mark, whoever he was, was a jerk. How could he flaunt how great it was to be a father on a website, and then in those emails, and then, deep down, resent it? To hell with him. I had to be there for Ashley. I’d promised her that.

  Breakfast was usually pretty quick at my house with my mom, dad and me burning toast and spilling coffee and not much talk. But my parents could see something was troubling me.

  “Zach,” my mom said, “I know this has all been pretty tough on you, but I think I’m actually quite proud of the way you’re handling things.”

  “Most boys your age,” my dad added, “wouldn’t be willing to do what you’re trying to do.”

  This should have been good news. My parents were trying to be supportive now. They’d done their best to change my mind, but now they’d accepted my decision.

  “Thanks,” I said. “It’s very cool of you to say that.”

  “Let us know if there is anything we can do,” my dad said as I put on my jacket and got ready to leave.

  Just give me a new life, I wanted to say. Either that, or just fix it so I was never born.

  At school that day, Ashley ran into me while I was talking to Kiley. I said goodbye to Kiley and walked Ashley to her class.

  “She seems to be around an awful lot. What’s with that?” Ashley asked.

  “She’s just a friend,” I said. “And I don’t have many friends.”

  “Yeah, but she’s your old girlfriend.”

  “That’s history. Now we’re just friends,” I said. “You feeling any better this morning?”

  “About the same. I’m just getting used to it.”

  “Ashley, I’
m ready to take up your mom on that dinner,” I said.

  “Lasagna, right?”

  She phoned her mom on her cell and told her the news. It was a short conversation.

  “And?” I asked.

  “She’s thrilled.”

  “I bet.”

  When I told my parents about eating at Ashley’s, they once again said they were proud of me. I was turning into some kind of hero. And hating every minute of it.

  I showed up right on time (as heroes should). Stephen greeted me at the door. Well, he opened the door and scowled. I could smell that something was burning. Mr. and Mrs. Walker were arguing in the kitchen. Stephen just walked away, and I was left standing there. Ashley came down the stairs looking a little more pale than usual. She hugged me and nodded toward the kitchen. “Mom burned the lasagna.”

  We sat on the sofa and watched the news. Eventually Ashley’s parents emerged from the kitchen.

  “A minor disaster,” her dad said. “We’ve phoned for pizza though.”

  “I’m okay with pizza,” I said, smiling.

  Mrs. Walker looked flustered, and her face was flushed. “I’m glad you came, Zach.”

  “Nice to be here,” I said politely.

  I’d like to say that everything went smoothly after that.

  But it didn’t.

  It took almost an hour for the pizza to arrive. And it was not the one they ordered.

  It was cold and had anchovies, which nobody liked. I think Stephen had been smoking some weed in his room, and when he came downstairs he was acting a little funny. He didn’t actually say anything to me, just gave me looks that could paralyze.

  Mrs. Walker tried to tell funny stories about when Ashley was young, but Ashley kept asking her to stop.

  While we were eating, Mr. Walker flatly announced, “This is the worst pizza I’ve ever had. I’m going to call and complain.” Being agitated seemed to be his style.

  “Don’t,” Mrs. Walker said and then turned to me. “Sorry about the meal, Zach.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay.”

  “You don’t need to apologize to him,” Mr. Walker said.