The bathroom tiles felt cold beneath Maya's knees as she stared at the pregnancy test resting on the edge of the sink. Two pink lines. Clear as day. Unmistakable.
Her hands trembled as she picked it up, holding it closer to the light as if a different angle might change the result. But there they were—two solid pink lines that would change everything.
She was nineteen years old. A sophomore at community college. Working part-time at a coffee shop to help pay for textbooks. And now, pregnant.
The word felt foreign in her mind, like it belonged to someone else's story. Pregnant. She pressed her palm against her still-flat stomach, trying to imagine what was happening inside her body at this very moment. A tiny cluster of cells. A beginning. A life.
"Maya? You okay in there?" Her roommate Jenna's voice came through the door, followed by a gentle knock.
Maya quickly wrapped the test in toilet paper and shoved it deep into the trash can. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... stomach thing."
She splashed cold water on her face and studied her reflection in the mirror. She looked the same—same dark brown eyes, same mess of black curls pulled into a ponytail, same spray of freckles across her nose. But everything had changed. Everything.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Ethan: Still on for tonight? Can't wait to see you ❤️
Ethan. God, Ethan. How was she going to tell him?
They'd been together for just over a year, having met in their English Composition class freshman year. He'd sat behind her, and she'd turned around one day to ask if she could borrow a pen. He'd handed her one with a smile that made her heart skip, and they'd been inseparable ever since.
Ethan was twenty, working full-time at his uncle's auto repair shop while taking night classes. He had dreams of opening his own garage someday, of building something from the ground up. They'd talked about the future in that vague, dreamy way young couples do—someday getting married, someday having kids, someday buying a house with a big backyard.
Someday. Not today. Not now.
Maya typed back: Yeah, see you at 7. Love you too.
She had six hours to figure out how to tell the man she loved that their someday had just become right now.
Ethan arrived at her apartment exactly at seven, as he always did. Punctuality was one of the many things Maya loved about him—he was reliable, steady, the kind of person who showed up when he said he would.
He stood in her doorway wearing his usual uniform of jeans and a flannel shirt, his light brown hair still damp from a shower, his green eyes lighting up when he saw her. He pulled her into a hug, and she breathed in the familiar scent of his soap and the faint smell of motor oil that never quite washed away.
"Hey, beautiful," he murmured against her hair. "Missed you today."
"Missed you too," she said, her voice muffled against his chest.
They'd planned to order pizza and watch a movie, their typical Thursday night routine. But Maya couldn't focus on anything except the secret burning inside her chest.
They settled on the couch, and Ethan pulled up the menu for their favorite pizza place on his phone. "The usual? Pepperoni and mushroom?"
"Actually, I'm not that hungry," Maya said, which was true. Her stomach had been in knots all day.
Ethan set his phone down and turned to look at her, really look at her. "You okay? You seem... off."
This was it. The moment. Maya's heart hammered against her ribs.
"I need to tell you something," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan's expression shifted from casual concern to something more serious. He took her hand. "What's wrong?"
Maya opened her mouth, but the words stuck in her throat. How did you say something that would change both of your lives forever? How did you drop a bomb and hope you'd both survive the blast?
"I'm pregnant," she finally said, the words tumbling out in a rush.
The silence that followed felt like an eternity. Ethan's face went through a series of expressions—shock, confusion, disbelief. His hand went slack in hers.
"You're... what?"
"Pregnant. I took a test this morning. Actually, I took three tests. They were all positive."
Ethan stood up abruptly, running his hands through his hair. He paced to the window, stared out at the parking lot, then turned back to her. "How? I mean, I know how, but we were careful. We used—"
"Nothing's a hundred percent," Maya said quietly. "I guess we're part of that small percentage."
He sank back down onto the couch, his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. Maya's heart cracked watching him process the news. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. They were supposed to finish school, get established in their careers, get married, buy a house, and then have kids. In that order. Like responsible adults.
"Say something," Maya whispered, tears starting to blur her vision.
Ethan looked up at her, and she was surprised to see his eyes were wet too. "I'm scared," he admitted. "I'm terrified, Maya. I can barely afford my rent. I'm still paying off my car. I don't know how to be a father. I don't know if I can do this."
The tears spilled down Maya's cheeks. "I'm scared too. I don't know how to be a mother. I'm still figuring out how to be an adult."
They sat there in silence for a long moment, both of them crying, both of them overwhelmed by the weight of what lay ahead.
Then Ethan reached for her hand again, gripping it tightly this time. "But we'll figure it out, right? Together?"
Maya looked into his eyes, searching for certainty in the midst of all this chaos. "Together?"
"Together," he confirmed, pulling her into his arms. "I love you, Maya. I'm scared out of my mind, but I love you. And we're going to figure this out."
They held each other on that couch for a long time, two kids who were about to become parents, clinging to each other like lifelines in a storm.