And yet, if Madison and Jodie found their attention flattering—and they definitely did—I wondered what they’d think of Bryce. Oh, they’d notice right off the bat that he was cute, but would they care about his intelligence or his patience or his interest in photography? Or that he was training an assistance dog to help someone in a wheelchair? Or that he was the kind of teenager who helped his father board up homes for people like Aunt Linda and Gwen?
I wasn’t sure, but I had the sense that for Madison and Jodie, the way he looked would have been more than enough, and the rest would be only mildly interesting. And, if J was any indication, I’d probably been the same way before I’d arrived here and met a guy who’d given me a reason to change my mind.
But why was that? I used to think I was mature for my age, but adulthood still seemed like a mirage, and I wondered if part of that had to do with high school in general. When I thought back, it seemed like I’d spent all my time trying to get people to like me, as opposed to figuring out whether I liked them. Bryce hadn’t gone to school or had to deal with all those idiotic pressures, so maybe for him, that had never been an issue. He’d been free to be himself, and it made me wonder who I would have become had I not been so caught up in trying to be exactly like my friends.
It was too much to think about and I shook my head, trying to force the thoughts away. Bryce had climbed on top of a dumpster to get a better view of the boat in the road. Daisy, who’d tagged along with him, stared upward before finally remembering my presence. She trotted toward me, tail wagging, then curled around my legs. Her brown eyes were so friendly, I couldn’t help but lean over. I cupped her jaw in my hands and kissed her on the nose. As I did, I heard the faint sound of a shutter clicking. When I glanced up, Bryce—still on the dumpster—wore a sheepish expression as he lowered the camera.
“I’m sorry,” he called out. He jumped down, landing like a gymnast, and started toward me. “I know I should have asked, but I couldn’t resist.”
Though I’d never liked photos of myself, I shrugged. “It’s okay. I took one of you yesterday.”
“I know,” he said. “I saw you.”
“You did?”
He shrugged without answering. “What next? Anything else you want to see or do?”
At his questions, my thoughts began to race.
“Why don’t we hang out at my aunt’s house for a while?”
* * *
Aunt Linda had gone to the shop, leaving Bryce and me alone. We sat on the sofa, me on one end with my feet tucked up and Bryce on the opposite end. He was flipping through some of the photos I’d taken the day before, complimenting me even when I’d done something obviously wrong. Right before he got to the photograph of him, I suddenly felt the tiniest sensation in my tummy, like a butterfly flapping its wings. I automatically put my hands on my belly but otherwise stayed completely still. He must have asked a question, but concentrating hard, I missed it.
“What is it? Are you okay?”
Lost in what I was experiencing, I didn’t answer; instead, I closed my eyes. Sure enough, I eventually felt the fluttering again, like ripples moving through a pond. Though I had no prior experience, I knew exactly what it was.
“I felt the baby move.”
I waited for a bit but when nothing else happened, I settled into a more comfortable position. I knew from the book my mom had given me that in the not-too-distant future, those flickers would become kicks and my stomach would move on its own like that super-gross and scary scene in Alien. Bryce remained quiet but had paled a little, which seemed kind of funny, since he was ordinarily unflappable.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” I teased.
The sound of my voice seemed to snap him out of it. “I’m sorry,” he responded. “I know you’re pregnant, but I don’t ever really think about it. You haven’t even put on any weight.”
I rewarded his lie with a grateful smile. I’d put on thirteen pounds. “I think your mom knows I’m pregnant.”
“I didn’t tell her anything—”
“You didn’t have to. It’s a mom thing.”
Strangely, I realized that it was the first time my pregnancy had come up since we’d decorated the Christmas tree. I could tell he was curious but didn’t know how to express it.
“It’s okay to ask me questions about it,” I said. “I don’t mind.”
He set the photos on the coffee table, his expression thoughtful. “I know you just felt the baby move, but what’s it like to be pregnant? Do you feel any different?”
“I had morning sickness for a long time, so I definitely felt it then, but now it’s mainly just small things. I’m more sensitive to smell, and sometimes I feel like I need a nap. And, of course, I pee a lot, but you already know that. Other than that, I haven’t noticed much. I’m sure that will change once I start getting even bigger.”
“When’s the baby due?”
“May ninth.”
“It’s that exact?”
“According to the doctor. Pregnancies last two hundred and eighty days.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Why would you?”
He laughed under his breath before growing serious again. “Is it scary? The thought of giving up your baby for adoption?”
I deliberated over my answer. “Yes and no. I mean, I hope the baby will go to a wonderful couple, but you never really know. That part does kind of scare me when I think about it. At the same time, I know I’m not ready to be a mom yet. I’m still in high school, so there’s no way I could support her. I don’t even know how to drive.”
“You don’t have your driver’s license?”
“I was supposed to start driver’s training in November, but coming here sort of nixed that.”
“I can teach you how to drive. If my parents say it’s okay, I mean. And your aunt, of course.”
“Really?”
“Why not? There’s hardly ever any cars on the road to the far end of the island. It’s where my dad taught me.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I ask another question about the baby?”
“Of course.”
“Do you get to name her?”
“I don’t think so. When I went to the doctor, the only thing he asked was whether I wanted to hold the baby after giving birth.”
“What did you say?”
“I didn’t answer, but I don’t think I will. I’m afraid that if I do, it might be harder to give her up.”
“Have you ever thought about names? If you could name her, I mean?”
“I’ve always liked the name Chloe. Or Sofia.”
“Those are beautiful names. Maybe they should let you name her.”
I liked that. “I have to admit, I’m not looking forward to labor. With first babies, sometimes it can last for more than a day. And I have no idea how an entire baby will…”
I didn’t finish, but that was okay. I knew he understood when I saw him wince.
“If it makes you feel better, my mom has never mentioned how hard labor was. She does, however, remind us that none of us were good sleepers, and that we’re still responsible for making up for her sleep-deprived years.”