“What are you going to do?” Harlow, my best friend asks from beside me on Gran’s bathroom floor.

“Cry for about nine months.” I respond as tears start to sneak from my eyes. The pregnancy test stares back at me.

“Shh... It will be okay.” Sweet, loving, dedicated, Harlow encourages me with her arms fiercely wrapped around my shoulders.

“He is going to hate me." I sniffle. "He’s moving to North Carolina to chase his racing dream. You think he’ll stay here? Play family with me?” I shake my head, as more tears fall. “He’s going to make it, and I’m not going to tie him down to a fat girl and a screaming baby. We both graduated high school just this week. It’s supposed to be my summer of fun!”

Harlow pulls away.
I don’t mean to yell, but I can’t help it.

“Ben won’t run out on you. He’s not that kind of guy.” Harlow says, as if nothing could change her mind about him. Because she's right, he's a stand up guy. But what about me? 

“Maybe I’m not ready to be a mom yet. I’m not ready to be an adult. I’m not ready to be fat and miserable. I can’t do this.”