Concrete Rose (The Hate U Give, #0)(45)

I set a timer on my watch, and we sit on the bathroom floor. It’s hard not to stare up at them li’l sticks that could change our lives.

“Thank you,” Lisa says. “For getting the tests, for being so supportive. Although, that’s what you should do in the first place, so, frankly, I shouldn’t thank you.”

I smirk. “You right. This what I should do. I told you, we in this together. No matter what.” Even though the “no matter what” scary as hell.

She must think that too, ’cause she don’t say nothing.

I glance at my watch. “Three minutes.”

Lisa nod. She rest her cheek on her knee and look at me. “Have you been washing your hair?”

I’ve kept my hair in an Afro puff ever since she washed it. I put shampoo in it sometimes in the shower. Conditioner still for girls. “Yeah. This ’fro shit a lot to keep up. I think I wanna cut it and get a fade.”

“That would look good. How’s school?”

“A’ight, I guess. Tryna get through it. You?”

“Busy, but fine,” she says. “There’s basketball, college applications, yearbook, school paper. Prom.”

“Prom? That ain’t till spring.”

“I know, but Momma wants me to get a dress now. She says they’re cheaper. We’re gonna get my measurements this week.” Lisa glance down at her stomach. “May not matter now.”

My watch beep, and both of us jump. Time’s up.

“Okay,” Lisa says. “One line means no baby; two lines, baby.”

“Got it.”

We stand together. Lisa close her eyes and inch her hand toward the counter. She pick the tests up.

“Please, God. Please?” she prays.

Lisa open one eye and then the other. Her face fall. My stomach drop.

“No,” she says. “No, no, no!”

She toss the tests onto the counter.

Both of them got two lines.

Lisa pregnant.

For the past hour, the words been on repeat in my head like the worst song I can’t forget.

Lisa pregnant.

She ain’t stopped crying since we found out. I hold her on the couch, and I wanna cry along with her.

Lisa pregnant.

We waiting on Ma to come home so we can break the news. I’m so damn dead.

And Lisa pregnant.

She straighten up, wiping her eyes. “What are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” I mumble. Lisa pregnant. The words pound my skull. I hold my forehead. “I mean, you got options. What you wanna do?”

Yeah, it’s gon’ affect me, but I ain’t pregnant—Lisa is. This her decision.

Lisa bite her thumbnail. “I don’t know. There’s an abortion clinic downtown. I heard it’s expensive.”

Goddamn, I’m always needing money. “I’d find a way to get it.”

“I don’t want you selling drugs again, Mav. I could call my dad. He’d pay for it.”

Lisa don’t mention her dad much. I know he married and it ain’t to her momma. He got a whole ’nother family across town. He give Ms. Montgomery money and scoop her up sometimes. That ain’t my business though.

“There’s also adoption,” Lisa go on, “but I don’t know.” She put her face in her hands. “I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know.”

Seeing her cry got a way of cutting me deep. I wrap my arms around her. “Whatever you decide I’m on board, a’ight?”

She look up at me. “You mean that?”

“Fa’sho.” I kiss her hair. “You got my word.”

Lisa bury her face in my shirt and cry her eyes out. I already know what she gon’ do. It’s the only option that make sense. I’ll be right by her side when she do it.

An engine hum into the driveway.

Lisa gasp. “Oh God.”

The engine fade off, and the car door creak open and shut. Ma’s feet thump against the walkway. Her keys jingle on the porch and the front door open.

“I’m back! Brought you some—” She notice us on the couch. “Dinner. Lisa, baby, what are you doing here?”

Lisa’s chin tremble. “We’re sorry, Mrs. Carter.”

Ma set down the Red Lobster bag. That’s one of her and Moe’s favorite spots. “Sorry? For what? What happened?”

“We . . .” My heart pound so loud I can hardly hear myself. “We . . .”

Lisa cover her mouth. She hop up and rush down the hall.

“What in the world?” Ma says, and we hurry after her. We find Lisa bent over the toilet, puking her guts out.

“I’m so sor—” She can’t talk for throwing up. “We didn’t mean—”

Ma hold Lisa’s ponytail back. “Baby, what are you talking about? Sorry for what?”

It’s easier to look at Ma’s hair than to look her in her eyes. I see them couple of grays she say I gave her, and I feel like shit knowing I’m ’bout to give her more.

I swallow. “Lisa pregnant, Ma.”

Ma don’t respond. Her face don’t even react. She just rub Lisa’s back.

Maybe I didn’t get the words out like I thought. “Ma, I said Lisa—”