“I can’t do this.  We can’t do this.  We’re just kids.  What are we supposed to do?”

The pain in his voice is subtle, but noticeable.  His eyes are reddening with each word he spits out.  She sits quietly on the bed.  Her silence breaks.

“What do you want to do?”

“You already know what I think we should do.”

He looks down at the ground as he paces back and forth.  The bedroom is littered with glitter and posters of teen heartthrobs.  Stuffed animals still rule the jungle of shelves.  Textbooks wrapped in paper rest on the floor near her book-bag. 

“I’m not going to do that.  We can get our parents to help.  We can do this.”

“Are you kidding?  Our parents?  Do you think my parents are going to help?  They don’t need that stress.  Besides, that’s exactly what they expect from me.  And what, we’re just going to dump all the work onto your parents?  That isn’t right.  Nothing about this is right!”

“Well we have to do something!  I’m not going to give up!”

“Calm down!  If you keep shouting your parents will hear us.  Let’s just think and figure this out.”

He sits down on the bed.  They’re close, but not too close.  He doesn’t try to comfort, he doesn’t try to soothe, he doesn’t try to do anything.  She sits sobbing.  The room is filled with an air of overwhelm.  The two sit without speaking. 

“It’s because of that movie Juno.  That’s why we’re in this mess.  Ever since then, girls are trying to be heroes.  Why is abortion such a bad thing?  Is it right to raise children in poverty?  Is it right to bring people into a world that you can’t even succeed in?  We need to think about this.  We can make a movement towards choice.  We have the choice to do what we please.  It’s no one’s business but our own.  We’re the ones who will have to live with our decision, not anybody else.”

“We can’t.  I can’t fail at this too.  This is my one shot to prove I’m good for something.  I can be a mother.  I can love, I can care, I can do it.” 

“You can’t be a mother.  Do you expect me to be a father?  This isn’t just something for you to nurture because you have a hole in your life.  You can’t be so stupid or selfish to think that.”

Time ticks and tocks, and ticks and tocks.

“Listen, I’m going to do this with or without you.  I don’t need a man.  Besides, you’re just a boy.”

Those words hurt his young pride.  They stab deep into his soft new ego.

“You know I won’t let you do this alone.”  He says out of spite, out of his personal image of the self.

She smiles.  He looks at her and inches towards her on the bed.

“Tomorrow we can go down to the hospital and get some pamphlets and stuff about babies, and taking care of them, and all that.  I’m sure we can talk to a nurse without needing an appointment.  I’ll ask my dad to drive and we’ll pick you up in the morning.”

He feels his heart expand into a size that makes love beam from his eyes.  Inside his soul he feels satisfied with himself.  He’s becoming a true man, a respectable man.

“Thanks.  So what do you want to do tonight?  Do you want to leave the egg here, or take it?”

“You can look after it tonight.  If we’re both going to do this, don’t let anything happen to it.  You’re going to make a great mother for our egg.  Just don’t forget to bring it to class with you tomorrow; I don’t want to get any marks taken off.”

“I know.”

At that, he leaves.  She stays on the bed and reviews the Egg Project guidelines.  We’re going to make it on our own, we’re really going to make it, she says to herself.