"Are you planning to know the baby's gender?" the ultrasound technician asked me as she pushed around on my way too full bladder.

"Um..." I said, trying to keep from losing everything in front of her and my mom. I had to pee so bad.

She must have seen my eyes turn yellow or something because she lifted the ultrasound probe from my belly and said, "You can go pee first. You won't need a full bladder for this."

"Thank you!" I said a little too loudly.

She chuckled and pointed to the bathroom. "Just lock both doors since the bathroom is shared with another room."

My mom helped me get down from the bed. Less than a minute later I felt so much better.

I would never take going to the bathroom for granted again!

The woman smiled when I came back in the room. "Better?"

"Yes," I said.

"Did you want to know the gender or not?" she asked.

Did I?

That would probably make everything much more real, and I was already overwhelmed after what I'd seen of the baby today. He or she already had arms and legs and a head and chest. Putting a "he" or a "she" to it would just make things that much more difficult.

I didn't want to get attached to the baby. I wasn't ready to be a mom.

But adoptive couples liked to know these things, and since I was already halfway through with the pregnancy, I needed to get more serious about my search for them.

Easton's baby deserved a great family. One who would love this baby as if it was their own. He or she deserved to have a mom like the woman I met at the doctor's office. Someone who thought this baby was a miracle and who would give it the best home possible.

"Yeah, I guess I'd like to know," I finally decided.

My mom took my hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

And then I tried to relax as the image of the baby was on the wall in front of me again—well, at least it kind of looked like a baby. I just had to take the lady's word for it with all the parts she had pointed out, since I couldn’t tell myself—to me it only looked like there was an alien in there.

She moved the transducer probe along my stomach, taking pictures and measurements as she did so. Then she put an arrow on the screen and typed B-O-Y.

My limbs went tingly as I realized what that one word meant.

The baby was a boy.

Easton and I had made a baby boy.

Instantly, the image of a newborn baby with my dark hair and Easton's bright blue eyes popped into my mind.

"It's a boy, honey," Mom whispered as she squeezed my hand.

I couldn't respond. I felt numb.

I had always thought having a boy first would be a great way to start a family. Boys could help protect their younger sisters, like Easton had done for Lexi and me when we were in elementary.

The technician wiped away the goo on my stomach and finished everything up while I lay there in shock.

I was going to have a boy.

Would he be tall like Easton? Would he be as good at lacrosse as Easton was?

I shook those thoughts away. I wasn't supposed to think about those things. They just made this so much more real. I couldn't get attached to the baby. I couldn't imagine a future for him. Because I wasn't going to be part of that future. He wasn't mine to keep.

Unless...

No. There was no "unless." There was only adoption. That was the only option. I would be barely seventeen when the baby was born. I still had another year of high school. And then I had my dreams of working in the fashion world. I couldn't do all those things with a baby on my hip, or a toddler running around my legs.

And this baby deserved to have two parents. Even if I kept the baby and Easton found out, our son would still live in two separate homes. That wasn't fair to a kid. One week here, one week there. Never knowing which parent he'd be spending the holidays with.

No. I needed to find a couple who’d been married for a long time. One who’d tried to have kids but couldn't. A family that was stable. Mature. Patient. Smart. Grown-up.

Not me.

Not Easton.

Not us.

I had grown up without my dad. He was never there for the daddy-daughter dances. He’d never been there to teach me how to play basketball. He hadn't been there to give me advice about boys.

He had died. And yes, I couldn't predict the future. But I could do what was best with the information I had. I could give my baby what I had always wanted. A mom and a dad.

The nurse handed me a long strip of photo paper with three images she'd taken of the baby. She added, "And here is a flash drive with a few more."

"Thank you." I took the USB stick from her outstretched hand and couldn't help but notice the concern in her brown eyes.

She too knew that the baby deserved more than I could give him.

I carefully folded the ultrasound photos in half, setting them inside my purse. Then Mom and I got up and left.

Before we could reach the exit doors that led to the parking lot, I asked my mom, "Is it okay if I walk home?"

It wasn't too cold today, and I wouldn't mind the exercise after being trapped inside my house for the past week and a half.

"Are you okay, Juliette?" There was worry in her eyes.

I pulled my lips into what I knew was an overwhelmed smile. "I will be after some fresh air and exercise."

She nodded. "Just be safe, okay?"

She was probably worried I was going to throw myself in front of a car.

I couldn't pretend like that hadn't come to my mind a few months earlier.

But I would be okay. I still had options—even if they were hard.

"It's only a few blocks."

I pulled my coat as far across my torso as I could and tied the belt. It barely stretched across my stomach. Maybe I should have asked my mom to buy me a new coat along with all the maternity clothes we'd bought yesterday.

It started to snow about halfway through my walk home. I pulled my hood over my head and tipped it down to keep the snow out of my face.

The wind picked up about half a block later. I was starting to regret this walk home.

A car pulled along the curb beside me a little later. And since it was starting to get dark I quickened my pace, not liking the thought of creepers trying anything on me.

My heart raced when the car slowly rolled along beside me.

"Juliette?" a male voice called out.

I turned my head to see that it was a blue mustang. It rolled to a stop, and Easton leaned over the center console. "Is that you, Juliette?"

He looked surprised to see me. But then I remembered that he thought I was at my grandma's house a few hours away from Ridgewater.

I quickly put my purse on my other arm, hoping it would help hide my stomach before he could see it.

Once my belly was safely blocked from his view, I pulled my hood away from my face. We'd already made eye contact, so I couldn't just pretend like I hadn't heard him.

"Yeah, it's me."

He blinked, like he still wasn't sure he was seeing things right. After a moment of hesitation, he said, "D-do you want a ride home?"

I looked ahead. I still had three blocks to go, and the snow was falling faster and faster by the minute...but getting a ride home meant being close to him. And if I was close to him, it was likely that he would notice how much I'd popped out.

"No thanks. I'm okay." Then I turned my attention back to the path ahead and continued walking.

He kept pace along beside me. "Come on, Juliette. It's getting dark. Let me give you a ride."

"I need the exercise. I'm fine."

"So I guess you didn't really want to be friends after all?"

I sighed. Why did he have to play the friend card?

I swiveled to face him again, biting my lip as I tried to figure out how to respond.

"You said at the cabin you wanted to try to be friends, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, friends don't let friends walk home alone at twilight when it's snowing and they're still three blocks from home. Especially when they live on the same street."

He had me there.

I adjusted my purse again and turned to face him straight on. "Okay. Fine. I'd love a ride."

He grinned and pushed open the passenger door.

I stepped off the curb and climbed into his car. I buckled myself in, making sure that my belly wasn't too obvious from my sitting position. When I finally looked around his car, I was instantly assaulted with the memories of the last time I'd been in it. It had been late August, just five days before I was supposed to leave for Paris. We had gone out for a drive to talk about how things would work when I was gone. But instead of talking through the logistics of everything, we'd made out for hours instead. Kissing was much better than talking about being separated for months.

I pushed the thoughts away and turned to Easton, hoping he wasn't remembering the same things I was.

"Thanks for the ride," I said.

He was looking at me with a confused expression. "When did you get back from your grandma's?"

"Um, yesterday. I, um, had to come back to pack more of my things since it looks like she’ll need my help for a while longer."

He frowned. "Really? So you'll miss school?"

I swallowed the brick in my throat. "Yeah."

He still looked confused. "Why doesn't she come stay at your house if she needs help?"

"Um..." I scrambled for an answer. "She and my mom don't really get along, so we thought this was best until we can convince her to go to a retirement center."

He nodded and pulled onto the road.

Hopefully, he'd bought it.

"What are you going to do about school then? I was looking forward to hanging out with you more."

It was then I remembered the conversation I overheard between Noah and Easton in the Stevens’s kitchen last week. About how Easton and the girl he'd dated had had something special, and he didn't think he and Mercedes had a chance at getting there.

Did he want to see if we could work things out?

I cleared my throat. "Did you mean what you told Noah?"

His hands tightened on the steering wheel and he let out a cough. "What do you mean?"

I drew in a deep breath, hoping it would give me some bravery. "About me and you."

He pinched his lips together. "So you really heard everything, didn't you?"

"Yeah." I stared straight ahead. It was easier to have conversations like this when you didn't have to look at each other.

He slowed the car as he turned a corner. "Well, don't you think it's true?" I felt him look at me.

"That we had something special? Or that there's no chance of it working out?" I asked.

"I don't know. I guess either one."

I sighed and looked at him carefully, not sure how I should answer. "I don't know. I guess both. We had something special. But you were right, we're better off as friends."

He nodded slowly, seeming to take in what I said.

We sat in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts. But there was a question that had been plaguing me for a long time and I needed an answer. "Do you think things would be different if we didn't..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

He glanced at me again, sadness in his eyes. "If we hadn't taken things too far?"

I nodded.

"I don't know. Maybe. I guess we'll never really know, though. We only have what actually happened."

"I guess that's right."

He pulled onto our street and drove all the way to the end, making a U-turn to stop in front of my house.

"Thanks for the ride. I really appreciate it." I reached for the door handle, but when I tried to push it open, it didn't budge.

"Oh sorry, it's been having issues lately. Let me help." He undid his seatbelt and then leaned across me to grab the handle. A whiff of his cologne met my nose. He smelled like happiness and summer.

Cold air blew through the crack in the door and he slowly pulled himself away, his shoulder brushing across my stomach.

"Thanks," I said, surprised by our sudden closeness and really hoping he hadn't just felt the baby.

"No problem." He pulled away farther, and our eyes locked for a moment. His blue eyes were different than they’d been a moment before, but very much the same way they'd been months earlier when he was telling me he wanted to kiss me.

My stomach muscles twisted. Could he feel the electricity in the air?

My breath came out in shallow bursts as we stared at each other for a moment longer. And then his eyes dipped down to my lips.

Was he thinking about kissing me?

I unbuckled my seatbelt and turned my head away. He was dating Mercedes, and I wasn't about to get in the middle of anything.

Plus, he'd just said himself that things would never work out between us.

I opened the door wider and set one foot on the ground, ready to leave.

"Hey," he said, his voice startling me. "Don't forget your purse." I turned back to him—he had picked up my bag and was holding it out to me.

"Thanks," I said, taking it from him.

But his face had gone white. Confused, I looked down at my purse. And then I saw what he'd seen. The ultrasound photos.

I yanked the bag away from his grip and put it over my shoulder, ready to bolt.

"Are you pregnant?" His voice stopped me, and my insides felt hollow.

No, no, no, no, no. He could not have just found out.

My heart thundered in my chest. I needed to get out of here now.

I needed to go, but his hand shot across the space between us and grabbed my arm so I couldn’t leave.

His voice came out louder, like he was barely keeping it together. "Are you pregnant, Juliette?"

I couldn't breathe. What was I supposed to say? He wasn't supposed to find out!

I looked back at his face, which was full of anxiety and disbelief, and maybe even a little anger.

"Please tell me." His grip on my arm got tighter and his voice got even louder. "Are. You. Pregnant?"

He looked like he was on the verge of a freak-out. Like I had the power to completely crumble his entire world with whatever I said next.

I put a hand on my stomach, rubbed it, and sighed, "Yes."

"Yes?" His whole body sagged, and he ran his hands through his hair. "No." He blinked his eyes shut like he wished he hadn't just heard what I'd said. Then he turned back to me, his eyes searching mine for hope that things weren't as bad as they seemed. He swallowed hard before asking, "Is it—is it mine?"

It was like all the life and hopefulness he'd ever had was blown out like a candle.

I couldn't do this to him. Just watching him struggle for air was more than I ever wanted to see in him.

He didn't need this burden.

I shook my head fast. "No, Easton." I touched his arm, hoping he could hear me over whatever was going through his mind right then. "It's someone else's. Someone from Paris."

"Really?" He looked at me like he didn't believe me, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. As if whatever I said next was his lifeline. "It's not mine?"

"No. The t-timing would be off for him to be yours."

"But we..."

I shook my head. "Like I said, the timing is off. I'd have to be further along." Tears bit at the back of my eyes as I spit out so many desperate lies.

He finally relaxed against his seat. And I sucked in a deep breath, relieved that he'd taken my story so easily.

But then he turned back to me with narrowed eyes. "You slept with another guy?"

The hurt in his tone was almost as bad as the fear had been earlier.

"It just happened. I-I'm sorry I don't really have anything else to say other than the fact that we were broken up, and I was feeling lonely in Paris."

He clenched his jaw. "How long did—" he started, but then he shook his head like he didn't want to finish that thought.

"I know it looks bad," I hurried to say. "That's why I'm going to my grandma's house. I didn't want anyone to find out."

"I can't believe you would do that. Did what we have not mean anything to you?"

The tears spilled from my eyes now. "It did. Of course it did, Easton." Now I was sounding desperate, and I was mad at myself. All the feelings from that night came rushing back. The utter lowness I had felt when he had rejected me after something that had seemed so special.

I blinked my eyes shut. I would not cry in front of him. He didn't need to know how much he'd hurt me then, and how much he still had the ability to hurt me again.

"I thought you were different,” he said. “I thought at least I had given away that part of myself to someone who knew how special it was."

"I did." My voice cracked.

He shook his head. He wasn't listening anymore.

And I was just so lost with this conversation. First, he was scared that the baby might be his, then he was relieved that it wasn't, and now he was mad at me for getting pregnant by another guy.

What did he want from me?

"I'm sorry, Easton."

He looked straight ahead, the muscles in his jaw flexing. "I'm sorry that you're pregnant, Juliette. Sorry if anything I did made you feel like you had to do that."

I sniffled, urging my tears to stop falling down my cheeks. He didn't need to see me like this. I had already cried too many tears over Easton.

"I-I'm going to go now," I said. "Thanks for the ride."

I dared one last look at him, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. Instead, he was shifting his car into drive again, ready to leave me and my mistakes far, far behind him.

"I'll see you around," he said.

I climbed out and stepped onto the sidewalk with shaky legs. The only thing keeping me from curling up on the curb and crying like a baby was the knowledge that my grandma would be home in a couple of days, and soon I would really be able to escape to her house and leave everyone in Ridgewater behind.