I Hate You. So Why Am I Pregnant With Your Child?

January 11

Sorry i havent updated in a 'quickly' manner. whatever that is.. lol

but yes here is chapter 6? lol idk. or 7? i have prewritten up to chapter 11. and i have the sickest twist ever! so thanks for those who are stilll reading! :)(:

not the best chapter...but still....it's needed/necessary

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Ever since my parents returned home from their business trip, I can’t even look at them. If I tell them I’m pregnant, they’ll know. They’ll know everything I hid from them about my “other” life. They’ll know I’m not celibate, I drink, I smoke and oh my god! I’ll have to stop drinking and smoking for 9 months.

It’s okay Mimi. It’s just 9 long, excruciating months without getting cancer, right?

I’m contemplating on if I should get an abortion or if I should endure the rest of my young life with a child and Romeo.

I’m googling on my laptop prices for abortions. They’re not all that bad. I mean, I could afford it. I’m against abortions. But now since it’s happening to me; I’m being a hypocritical.

My door slowly opens, “Miranda?”

I quickly exit out the window tab then reply with a smile,“Yes, Mami?”

“Aren’t you going to leave for school? Somebody’s outside for you.” She says pointing her finger towards my window.

I shut my laptop off and then close it. I almost forgot it’s Monday.

Today, Romeo’s taking us both to school. We decided that since of our dilemma, we have to try and act civilized to one of another. We don’t have to like each other, just be nice. I’m just waiting to see how this is going to work out.

I hear his horn honk as I charge down my spiral staircase.“Mami, I’m leaving!”

Jumping inside his white Toyota Ram, I don’t dare make eye contact with him. Period.

How am I supposed to act like there’s some friendship between us when, truthfully, we can’t stand each other. He swiftly taps the circular button on the radio to turn it on.

Okay this is perfect. That means he is just as nervous as I am. Well I’m not really nervous; just a little weirded out.

Yeah, Miranda. You can’t do this.

He finally speaks up while clearing his throat, “So um…how have you been feeling?” he stares blankly at the empty road while having a tight grip on his Ed Hardy decorated steering wheel.

“Fine, fine actually.” I respond like I don’t know proper grammar.

And that was it. The rest of the ride to school was quiet. He parks in the senior parking lot where he normally parks at. We’re so used to gibing down each others with mean words, taunts, or Spanish colloquialisms, that it felt weird to point to where I felt naked in front of him.

Before he gets out the car, he asks, “Have you told your parents?”

I look at him like he’s crazy. “You must be trippin’. I don’t even know if I want to keep it.”

“Stop calling it an it.” He commands contradicting his own response. “And why?”

His calm aura is bothering me. I shrug indecisively. “Doest matter anyways.” I stress with pure attitude and annoyance.

Baffled by my response, he opens his car door and hops out the car, annoyed as I was.

 When I got out the car, all I see are people in the front of school with eyes glued to our same presence.