“How accurate are pregnancy tests?” I asked. May tried to hide the shocked look on her face, but I saw it anyway. “It’s not for me,” I reassured her. “It’s for a friend.” The oldest excuse in the book. Why.

“I mean, they’re pretty accurate. There are sometimes false negatives, but unless there’s something crazy hormonal going on, there are no false positives,” said May. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine.” And by fine I mean fucked.

“Well let me know if your friend wants to talk,” May said. I could tell she didn’t believe me.

A few weeks later I knew it had to be true. I’d felt this before. I’m 19 and this is my third pregnancy. All with the same guy, though. I’m not a whore. I’m a few thousand miles away from home and from Jake. I came this far to get away from him. I guess I got pregnant over spring break. I had to tell someone. This fucking sucks. I texted May to hang out later that night.

“It wasn’t for my friend,” I blurted. It took her a minute to remember what I was talking about. Then the pity took over her face. This is why I can’t handle this shit. I don’t want your pity. I want you to help me.

“How far along?” May asked.

“Um,” I calculate in my head. “Maybe a month?”

“Okay,” she said. “Are you doing all right? Have you been to the doctor? Are you keeping food down?”

That’s not the response I expected. She’s supposed to be all religious and shit. Why isn’t she freaking out on me? Oh, God. I hope she’s not one of those crazy pro-life people. Fuck! Why did I say anything?

“No,” I said. “I haven’t seen a doctor. I don’t know anyone around here. I throw up after everything I eat.”

“What do you need me to do?” she asked. “I can get you, like, prenatal vitamins and look up stuff to help with the morning sickness.”

“No, um, that’s okay,” I said. “I don’t really know what I’m going to do yet. I have to talk to its dad.”

“No problem,” she said. “I hope you feel better, and please let me know if you need something. I’m always here to talk or do whatever.”

I called Jake that night. He wanted me to get an abortion. Another one. That’s what I’d do then. I texted May and told her. She asked if I want her to go with me. I told her no. No one else needed to see this.

I couldn’t even go on the Planned Parenthood website though. Every time I tried, I just couldn’t get my fingers to type the words. I certainly wasn’t going to call them either. I texted May to ask if she could make me an appointment. She said she would, and that she was coming with me even if I didn’t want her to. I was glad she did.

She picked me up after class and asked if I was ready. I nodded my head because I couldn’t speak. She tried to make small talk on the way and I answered her questions about school with about as much enthusiasm as I give my great aunt at Thanksgiving. Finally we pulled into the parking lot. She parked the car, but didn’t get out. Didn’t even unbuckle her seatbelt.

“We can go in whenever you’re ready,” she said, looking over at me.

“Okay,” I said. We sat there in silence, watching people go in and out of the front door. A dad and his daughter came out. That’s got to be awkward. A teenage girl walked in. A few more people passed by us, but not one looked at us. “I don’t know if I want to do this.” She looks at me.

“If it was your choice and Jake wasn’t in the picture, what would you do?” she asked.

I think for a minute and tell her, “I don’t know. I think I might want to keep it.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” May says. “We can stay if you still want to go in. We can talk about it if you want. Or we can just go too.”

“Jake doesn’t want it,” I said. “And he wouldn’t be a good dad. I finally got to school and started over without him and he knocks me up over break.”

“Did you want to sleep with him?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” I said. “We dated for a long time. We’re not really together anymore, but sometimes I miss him and stuff.”

“I get that,” she nods her head. How could she possibly get that? “I dated this guy in high school. He was kind of a dick, but I stayed with him anyway. It’s better than being alone, right?”

“Right,” I said, surprised.

“Except being alone doesn’t get you pregnant!” she said, joking. I laugh. She laughs. We sit in the parking lot of Planned Parenthood and laugh.

“All right,” said May. “Let’s go to Starbucks. Decaf for you.”