Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(43)

Lisa take him. He yawn and rub his eyes. “Did we wear you out?” Lisa ask, kissing his cheek. He rest his head against her.

I brush his hair. “We better put him down before he fall asleep on you.”

Lisa lay him in his crib. I turn on his mobile and kiss his forehead. “Sweet dreams, man.”

This one time I don’t think he gon’ fight sleep. His eyes barely open. I motion Lisa to follow me to the hall, and I gently close the door. “Damn. It’s never that easy to put him to bed.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You must got that magic touch. I need you to help out every night.” I’m joking, but Lisa don’t laugh. “My bad. I ain’t mean nothing by—”

“It’s cool. He’s a sweetheart. You’re a great dad, Maverick.”

“Thank you. I’m trying. It’s scary sometimes.”

Lisa hug herself tight. “Can we talk now?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

She look me in the eye, and I know something real wrong. “We should sit down.”

Damn, did somebody die? “Yeah, a’ight.”

I lead her to the kitchen. It smell like the Fabuloso Ma made me mop with last night. The fam coming over for Thanksgiving later this week. Ma want the house spotless, and she expect me to make it happen.

“You want something to drink?” I ask Lisa as she sit at the table.

“No, thanks.”

I sit across from her. “A’ight. What’s up, then?”

“Maverick, I . . .” Lisa’s voice crack, and she start crying.

I got this sinking feeling in my stomach. I get up and hug her. “Ay, it’s a’ight. Whatever it is, I got you, okay?”

Lisa wet my shirt with her tears. “Maverick . . . I’m late.”

I think I heard her right, she kinda muffled, but I’m confused. “Late for what?”

Lisa pull back, and her teary eyes lock with mine. “I’m late.”

My heart pound hard. She gotta mean something else. “What—what you mean?”

Teardrops fall down Lisa’s cheeks, and she say four words that stop time.

“I think I’m pregnant.”





Sixteen


Pregnant?

What?

I gotta sit, and the floor closer than any chair. I sink onto the tiles.

How the hell? We only did it once without protection, and I was careful. Ain’t no way unless . . .

I look up at her. “Is it mine?”

Her tears dry up quick, and Lisa get this murderous look.

“Is it yours?” she repeat, and stand. “Is it yours?”

In seconds, she beating the crap outta me. Hitting me, kicking me, punching me.

I ball up in the fetal position. “Ay, ay! Chill!”

“Is it yours?” She punch my arm. “Are you freaking kidding me?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”

“You should know! I haven’t been with anybody else, Maverick! This is all your fault!”

“How the hell is it my fault?” I yell.

“You should’ve been careful!”

“I was!”

“Obviously not enough! Ooooh!” She punch my arm again. “I was supposed to be done with you! I was supposed . . . oh God . . .” She gasp for air. “Oh God, oh God—”

I get up and hug her. She hit me at first, but she crying too much to put up a good fight.

“I can’t be pregnant, Maverick.” She sob into my chest. “I can’t.”

I’m so freaked out I can’t calm her down. “You sure you are?”

Lisa wipe her eyes. “I haven’t taken a test, but I’m late, and I’m never late. Then this morning I threw up. Luckily Momma wasn’t home or—oh God. What am I gonna do?”

“Ay, chill.” I help her sit down. “You might not be pregnant. We need to go buy a test.”

“I can’t. What if somebody sees me and tells my momma? You know how she is.”

Ms. Montgomery one of them strict, churchgoing types even though she cuss like a sailor and drink like one. Lisa definitely can’t be spotted buying a test. Her momma would kill her whether she pregnant or not.

“I’ll go buy one then,” I say.

“What if somebody sees you?”

“We gotta know, Lisa. This the only way.”

“Is it bad that I almost don’t wanna know?”

I stare at her stomach, too. It’s hard to imagine a baby might be in there. “Nah. I’m right there with you.”

We get quiet. One li’l test might change our whole lives.

Lisa close her eyes. “What if I am pregnant, Maverick? What are we gonna do?”

“We’ll figure it out,” I say.

She sniffle. “We?”

“Yeah.” I brush her tears from her cheek. “We in this together.”

Lisa wrap her arms around my neck and cry into my shoulder. I hold her and tell her it’ll be okay, but that feel like a lie.

I kiss her forehead and go to my room. Seven knocked out with a smile. He must be dreaming something good. He don’t know I’m living a nightmare.

I throw on my Starter jacket. My best bet is to go to Wal-Mart on the east side. It’s a twenty-minute walk one way, but that’s nothing compared to being seen buying a pregnancy test. I look through my wallet, and my stomach knot up.