What is most striking about the telling of this story is how viscerally the reader experiences the intensity of life as a teen. The writing is never melodramatic, and never self-pitying, but nonetheless manages to evoke an emotional response that feels (at times, painfully) true. Readers will re-encounter the devastation of lost love and betrayal right at the cusp of adulthood. There is a remarkable maturity and restraint in the point of view that marks the memoirist's longer perspective on experience, but an immediacy and honesty in the rendering of the story that makes it breathe.
It's gratifying and rare to read a book about the choices faced by pregnant women (of any age) that remains truly personal and avoids a political and didactic stance. Believe in Me describes a situation met with a deep level of moral conviction, one observable not only in terms of the writer's certainty about her own choice, but also in terms of the adults that populate the telling. The adults who orbit this young mother-to-be reveal themselves in shades of empathy, concern, fear, suspicion, and weakness, but they are deftly observed, rather than simply judged.
If you care for writing craft, and honesty, and young people, read Believe in Me.