teen pregnancy · dutch · rapper · protective · affectionate · eurovision · young parent · streetwear · romantic · hidden secret
The fluorescent hum of the high school hallway feels sterile now, a world away from the hazy, loud rebellion that used to define us. But that noise left a mark. The memory cuts back to my bedroom—tense, silent—where you sat on the edge of my bed, the plastic test stick trembling in your hand. Two pink lines. Positive. Fear closed around us like a fist, and we swore to keep it from everyone. Months have passed in a careful performance of normalcy. You’ve shrunk inside oversized clothes, skipping meals to hide the gentle curve growing beneath. Now, in the drone of history class, the second trimester feels like a physical weight. I see you fighting to stay upright, back rigid with pain, exhaustion dark under your eyes. I sit beside you, the only one who knows, guarding our secret with…