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the legal side of things. I didn’t believe anyone would really have me charged with a crime. But then, what did I know?
    â€œI think my dad feels that’s the way to go too,” I said.
    â€œIt’s the easy way out,” Ashley said. “For you at least.” There was an edge to her voice when she said that last part.
    â€œWhat about you? What do you want?”
    â€œI still don’t know. It’s too big of a decision. I can’t make up my mind.”
    â€œDo you want to know what I think?” I asked.
    â€œWell, yeah,” she said. “But I’m almost afraid to ask.”
    I didn’t just blurt it out. I told her about my conversation with my parents. And I told her about the website. I told her about the stories of the teen dads, and that I had even emailed the guy named Mark, who had posted his contact info after his story. By this morning, he had sent me a response. Having the baby and being there for my son was the smartest and most important thing I ever did in life , Mark had written.
    Ashley looked puzzled. “You’re taking advice from someone you don’t even know, who is on the other side of the planet?”
    â€œThat’s not it,” I countered. “It’s just that it is such an important decision and I’m trying to figure out what is right.”
    She looked a little sick again, and she turned her head away from me and just stared out the window.
    I left things there hanging in the air for a minute, wishing the damn music wasn’t so loud. Finally I asked, “What are you thinking?”
    â€œI’m thinking I want my life back. I want to go back to being just a girl going to high school. I wish this never happened. I wish I never met you.” There was no anger in her voice.
    â€œI’m glad I met you,” I said. “I think we can do this thing together.”
    She was still staring out the window, and I saw tears begin to form in her eyes. And then she turned to me. And she kissed me. She held my face in her hands and kissed me like she meant it.

Chapter Eight
    I walked Ashley to her class after that. As I drifted off toward math class, I felt warm and fuzzy. Happy. I’d never felt like this before, and I was sure my gut reaction was right. Everything was going to be okay. Ashley and I would see this through.
    After school, I tried to convince her to go back to the clinic with me. I wanted to sit down and talk some more with Dr. Benson—more about pregnancy and about the possibility of not giving up the baby.
    Ashley just shook her head. “I have to talk to my parents first. I owe them that.”
    All of a sudden that warm fuzzy feeling was gone. “I understand,” I said. “Can I talk to them with you?”
    â€œNo,” she said. “That wouldn’t be good. I need to do this myself.”
    So I walked her home, but I didn’t walk her up to her door.
    That night, the shit hit the fan. The phone rang, and it was Ashley’s father. He talked to my dad at first. All I could hear was the conversation on this end. My father was trying to be polite, but Mr. Walker must have been screaming. This was not good.
    I heard my dad say finally in a nervous but controlled voice, “I’m sorry, I have to hang up now. Maybe we can have this conversation another time.” And he hung up the phone.
    Not a minute passed before the phone rang again. This time I picked it up in my room.
    â€œHi,” I said. “It’s me. Zach.”
    â€œPut your father back on the phone,” he growled.
    â€œNo,” I said. “I think it’s me you need to talk to. Not him.”
    â€œWell, you are the source of the problem here.”
    â€œI know.”
    â€œWhat’s this crazy idea you’re putting in my daughter’s head?” he asked.
    â€œWe’re just trying to come to a decision that is right for us.”
    â€œDecision? Who are you to