Girls Like You

I wanted to go to the doctor straightaway, but Kelly insisted I tell Ben first. “Why does he need to know?” I said unconvincingly.

She stared at me, unimpressed. “Because he’s the baby’s father. Specifically your baby. And I think if you were walking around pregnant with his baby and didn’t tell him he’d be pretty unhappy.”

Unfortunately, she was right. I had to tell Ben. In addition to him being my baby daddy or whatever, there was no way I could raise a child on my own. I didn’t have the time (or the funds) for that.

So, that Saturday, I called Ben. “Hello?” he answered, sounding confused.

“Hey.”

“Hey. What’s, um, what’s up? You never call me.”

“What do you mean? Yeah I do.”

“When? When have you ever called me?” Ben asked, sounding amused.

“I don’t know,” I said lamely. Just talking to him over the phone made my heart pound, so I decided to just cut to the chase. “Um, what are you doing right now?”

“Right now? Nothing. Just watered my plants. They were kind of droopy before so I moved them to a different window so they could get better light and it worked. They’re looking pretty bitchin’ now. Awesome, right?” I could only hope that Ben would feel the same way about our child that he did about his plants.

“Cool. Can I come over?”

“Yeah, sure. You know you don’t have to ask.”

“Oh, you know,” I said, fully aware of how odd I sounded. “So I’ll see you in a couple minutes?”

“Yeah. See you then.”

Kelly was watching me as I hung up. “You’re going over there?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Good luck.” She didn’t offer to go with me, and while part of me wished she would, the other part was glad. Kelly was a fan of making me grow a pair and handle things on my own.

So I walked the two blocks to Ben’s apartment alone. It was only a few days after Valentine’s Day, and all of the stores were advertising their leftover candy at a cheap price. I made a mental note to pick some up on the way back.

Ben buzzed me into his building, and I rode the wobbly, fear-inducing elevator up to the fifth floor. I knocked on the door and he answered, a big smile on his face. “Hey!” He sounded genuinely pleased to see me, which made me feel even guiltier about what I was about to spring on him.

Ben’s apartment, while admittedly shitty, was still one of the coolest places I’d ever been. He made up for its horribleness by covering nearly every inch of wallspace that didn’t need actual appliances with bookshelves. Even then, there still wasn’t enough room for all of his books, so he resorted to stacking them precariously around the place. The entire place had an old, cozy, almost library-esque feel to it. His bed was pushed against one of the walls, which had a big, detailed map of the world tacked up to it. Multiple plants sat on his windowsills, soaking up whatever sun they could get.

“See my plants?” Ben pointed to them proudly as I sat down at his kitchen table.

“Yeah, awesome,” I agreed halfheartedly.

“Want anything to drink? I found that fruit juice you like at the grocery store for buy one get one free,” he said as he rummaged through his cupboard for a cup. I almost rolled my eyes. Ben only had about three actual cups total; there was no way he could be “rummaging” for anything.

“Um, sure.” I watched him pour the juice, staring at his maroon sweater and the cute little swirl his hair made on the top of his head. I briefly wondered if the baby would have the swirl too, and then suddenly I decided that I couldn’t just sit there any longer and pretend like everything was normal. There was no use in beating around the bush. “Ben, I have to tell you something.”

“What?” he asked, handing me my glass.

“Um, I think you should sit down.”

He knit his eyebrows, slowly sinking into the chair across from me. “Is everything okay?”

“Um . . . I just really need to tell you this.”

“Okay, what?” He leaned forward, looking at me with concern.

Here goes nothing. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence. And then, “. . . what?”

“I’m pregnant.”

“You’re pregnant,” Ben repeated, like he was trying to learn a foreign language.

“Yeah. I’m pregnant.”

“With a baby. A human baby.”

I was tempted to answer with no, a dog baby but refrained because he was still just looking at me like I’d grown an extra head. “Yeah, a human baby. And it’s yours.”

Ben fell back heavily into his chair. I could see that the initial shock was beginning to wear off, followed by extreme, oh-my-god-we’re-about-to-fucking-die panic. “Oh my God. You’re — you’re pregnant. You are pregnant. I got you pregnant. Oh fuck. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I was beginning to get a little worried. “Hey,” I said. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! I fucking impregnated you!”

“I know,” I said quickly. “But, like — would you breathe, please? Do you need your inhaler or something?”

“No,” he gasped. “No, I’m fine.”

“Look, Ben, please just calm down,” I pleaded. “You’re freaking me out, and I’m pretty sure pregnant people aren’t supposed to get freaked out.”

I waited as Ben took several deep breaths. “Okay,” he said eventually. “Okay, I’m . . . okay.”

“Look, this is not the end of the world, all right?” I said, although it certainly felt like it was.

“Not the end of the world?” Ben repeated. “Jordan, we’re having a baby. Me and you. The last two people on the planet who should be having a fucking baby!”

“I know,” I said loudly. “I’m pretty up to speed on the current state of affairs right now, thanks.”

“And you’re . . . keeping it?”

“Yeah, I’m keeping it,” I said coldly. “Is that a problem?”

“No!” he said quickly. “I was just — look, it’s whatever you wanna do, okay? It’s your choice. Your, uh, uterus and whatever.”

“Wait, so . . . you’re cool with that?”

“No, I’m not cool with it,” Ben said immediately. “But it’s your decision, and if you’re gonna have this thing, then I want to be there. I want to help. ‘Cause, you know. It’s mine too.” His face paled. “Oh, God, I’m gonna be a dad. I’ve only been able to legally drink for two years and I’m already a dad.”

“Okay, look,” I said, “this situation sucks. I know that. But we can do this. Me and you, we’d be okay parents, wouldn’t we?”

Ben didn’t answer. Instead, he said, looking horrified, “Am I gonna have to marry you?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Um, no. Not if you don’t want to, I guess. But wait a second, what would be so bad about marrying me?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “I just don’t want to get married yet. I don’t even wanna be a dad yet, you know?”

“No, I know,” I said with a sigh. “I’m just stressed out.” We didn’t speak for a few seconds until I finally spoke up. “Just because you got me pregnant doesn’t mean we can’t stay friends, right? We can still raise this baby together. How hard could it be?”

“I’m thinking it’s gonna be pretty hard,” Ben said. I could practically see him doing the calculations in his head. “We’re still paying off our college debts. We both live in shitty, barely-habitable apartments. And we have no clue how to raise a kid.”

I closed my eyes. He was starting to give me a headache. “Yeah, I know,” I said. “Would you please stop pointing shit like that out? I’m not getting rid of the baby. We’re just gonna have to suck it up and . . . raise it.”

Ben was silent for a long time. Finally, he said, “Okay. You’re right. Did you make a doctor’s appointment yet?”

“No. I wanted to tell you first.”

He nodded. “Okay, well . . . let me know when you make it, and . . . um, I’ll go with you. Does Kelly know?”

“Yeah.”

“What about your parents?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m gonna have to tell mine, too.” Ben’s eyes widened. “We’re gonna have to tell, like . . . people. That I got you pregnant.”

“I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave,” I said softly. “And start saving my money.” I’d checked my bank balance the other week, and while I had enough to be comfortably living the life I had now, it certainly wasn’t enough for the life I was about to lead. The panic began to set in again. I picked up my glass, hoping maybe a drink would calm my nerves, but my hands were shaking so badly I nearly dropped it.

“Hey,” Ben said, concerned.

“God, Ben, I’m so fucking scared,” I whispered. This, for me, was a rare moment of vulnerability. I didn’t get scared — I was the one urging Kelly to jump, forcing Ben to open up. I was the one who walked in front at the haunted houses, who told creepy guys in bars to fuck off, who grabbed life by the balls before it could do anything to me first. Nothing was supposed to scare me.

I could tell from the look on Ben’s face that he was thinking the same thing: if I was scared, then everything had definitely gone to shit. But to his credit, he merely took the glass away from me and slid his hand into mine. “Look. I won’t lie to you, I’m shitting myself right now. But I’m here, okay? You’re not in this alone. I’ll pitch in with money and stuff and I’ll be here for you every step of the way. It’s my kid too.”

It didn’t make me feel that much better, but it was a start. “I have to tell my parents,” I said. “And so do you. How do we do that?”

“Good question,” Ben answered. He thought for a second before his eyes brightened. “I know. Why don’t we take them out for a really nice dinner, like the six of us? Then we can tell them together and just get it done.” When I didn’t look convinced, he added, “They’ll probably feel so bad for us that they’ll pay for the meal. Free food, c’mon, J.”

They were going to have to find out one way or another, so with a sigh, I said, “Okay, fine. I’ll call them tonight and we’ll set a day.”

“Cool. Well, not ‘cool’, but you know what I mean,” Ben said. I smiled a little and he rubbed my back. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

I wasn’t too sure.



Ben and I met our parents at a nice restaurant called Achilles. We tried to get there before them, but of course they’d beaten us, as parents always seem to do. As he held the door for me, he looked down at my feet and whispered, “Don’t your feet hurt in those shoes?”

I was wearing black ankle boots to go with my black skirt and navy blue turtleneck. “No, why would they be hurting?” I asked distractedly, scanning the room to find them.

“Aren’t your feet supposed to hurt when you’re pregnant?”

“I think that only happens when my belly starts to grow,” I said. “And stop tugging at your collar, you’re gonna stretch it out and that’s the nicest sweater you own.” He instantly moved his hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, this’ll be fine, okay? It’ll be fine.” I tried to sound convincing.

I spotted our parents and . . . Ben’s brother, along with his girlfriend. “Um, why is Nate here?” I asked.

“Nate’s here?” Ben stood on his toes. “And Allison? How come?”

“I dunno Ben, did you invite them?” I said testily.

“No, but my mom might’ve,” Ben said. Noticing my annoyed expression, he said, “Well hey, now at least we just get everyone over with. Come on, it’ll be fine, you said so yourself.” My mom had noticed us and began to wave.

Plastering a smile on my face, we made our way over to where they were sitting. “Hi Mom, hi Dad,” I said, leaning over to give them both a kiss. “Hi Mrs. Sawyer. Hi Nate, hi Allison.”

“How are you, sweetheart? And you, Ben?” my mom asked as Ben and I took our seats.

Ben and I exchanged a glance. “Um, we’re good,” I said finally.

“I’m so glad we’re all getting together,” Mrs. Sawyer chirped. “I never get to see my children enough. And Dave, Renee, it’s been far too long. This dinner was a fabulous idea.”

“It was Jordan’s idea!” my mom said enthusiastically. “She called me up and said we should all get together for dinner, and that Ben was inviting you all, too! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Actually, this was Ben’s idea,” I said. Ben kicked me under the table as all of the adults cooed. The waiter arrived a few seconds later and took all of our orders. Everyone ordered some form of alcohol, but when it came to me, I said, “Just some water, please.”

“What’s up, Jordan?” Ben’s older brother Nate asked teasingly. “Usually you’re the first one at the bar.”

I felt Ben tense up next to me. I smiled weakly. “Yeah, just not feeling it tonight.” Or for the next nine months.

I waited until everyone was well into their entrees before I said, “Um, I kind of have something to tell you all.”

My parents looked up from their meals. “It involves me too,” Ben added. Now everyone was looking at us, and I felt my palms start to sweat.

“Do you need money?” my dad asked.

“No, no,” I said, although we most likely would at some point. “I just — okay, I just don’t want anyone to freak out or yell or anything. Please.”

“Jordan, what is going on?” my mother demanded, sounding nervous now.

“Just say it,” Ben said quietly, like it didn’t involve him too. I shot him a dirty look.

“Say what?” his mother cut in.

“I’m pregnant,” I blurted out.

“And it’s mine,” Ben added hastily.

For a moment, no one said anything. But then my mom whispered, “Oh my God,” and leaned back in her chair, putting her hand on her chest like she was about to have a heart attack.

“You’re pregnant?” my dad repeated. “And it’s yours?” Ben and I both nodded. My dad blinked a few times before looking at Mrs. Sawyer, who had gone slack-jawed. Nate and Allison’s eyes were wide, but they were smartly remaining out of it.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” my mom gasped. “How did this happen?”

“I think we know how it happened, Renee,” my dad said dryly. I stared down at my lap, ashamed. “The real question is, what happens next? I suppose you’re just going to get rid of it, or give it up for adoption?” He was looking at the two of us with disgust.

“No,” Ben spoke up, since I apparently lost my voice, “we — well, Jordan — decided to keep it, and I’m supporting that decision. We’re going to raise it. Together.”

“So you’re getting married?” Mrs. Sawyer asked, speaking for the first time. Her voice sounded hollow.

“No,” Ben said again, glancing at me. “Uh, we don’t want to get married. We just both want to be involved in the baby’s life.”

“I can’t believe this,” my mom said quietly, staring off into space. “You’re only 22. You can’t possibly be having a baby, you aren’t ready for it!”

“You don’t know that,” I said finally. “Ben and I could be good parents. We both love this baby already and we want it in our lives. We’re legal adults and you can’t tell us what to do.”

“Neither of you have any money,” my dad snapped. “Your apartments are barely habitable. You’re both kids yourselves. How can you possibly provide a good life for this child?”

“We can try,” I said, and whatever doubt I was having about the baby suddenly disappeared. This kid was mine and no one was going to take it away from me. “You can be pissed at me, you can never talk to me again, but I am not getting rid of the baby.”

My dad and I stared at each other for what seemed like ages, neither one of us willing to back down. Finally, he said, “Okay. Fine.”

“Fine?” I repeated. “Really?”

He shrugged. “If this is what you want to do, then . . . fine.”

“So you’ll support us?” Ben asked.

“Of course we will,” his mother said shakily. “You’re our children and we love you. This is all just . . . very shocking.”

You’re telling me, Mindy, I thought to myself, but I merely smiled. No one was disowning us, no one was retracting their love and support. This was okay. I caught Ben’s eye and he gave me a sneaky thumbs up. We’d made it.

We finished dinner pretty quickly after that. I felt sort of bad, because I knew this wasn’t anyone’s idea of a nice family dinner, but at least we’d waited until it was halfway over to drop the baby bomb. And Ben was right: our parents did feel bad and pay the bill, along with Nate and Allison, so I felt a little better about the whole thing.

As Mrs. Sawyer, Nate, and Allison said good-bye to Ben, I stood with my parents. “I know this is a shitty situation,” I said quietly. “But I don’t want to take the easy way out. I wanna keep this baby, and raise it, and give it a good life. Please just trust me on this.”

My mom tearfully pushed some hair away from my face. “Oh, Jordan,” she said. “You and Ben . . . you’re just so young. You’ll never just get to be young anymore. Now you’re parents.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy. But I have to try, don’t I?”

My dad kissed my forehead. “We’re here for you. Both of you,” he said. “Don’t hesitate to call us if you need us.”

“You could always move back in,” my mom offered hopefully. I rolled my eyes.

We all parted ways, and Ben and I began to walk back to our neighborhood, arm-in-arm. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” he asked tentatively.

I shrugged. “It was okay.” We passed by a store that was advertising 50% off on all of its Valentine’s Day candy, and I paused. “Hey, you mind if we go in here?”

“Sure.” So we went inside and I bought a bunch of chocolate for half its usual price. Ben stood by wearily and watched me do it. “Is this gonna be the rest of my life now?” he moaned, and I could tell he was only half-joking.

“Yeah,” I said as the cashier scanned my items. “Get used to it.”