CHAPTER4
1139 Words
I couldn’t believe it. How did I get myself into this mess?
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching as Mom finished packing the last set of my clothes into the oversized purple luggage. She glanced at me, her expression tinged with disappointment. I bit my lip in shame, unable to meet her gaze.
Dad entered the room with a firm stance. “Since you let this happen, Samantha, you have to take responsibility.”
“Does she really have to leave?” Mom’s voice was shaky as she turned to face him.
“Yes,” Dad said bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. “They have to face the consequences of their actions.”
Mom sighed deeply. “Well, you have a point,” she admitted reluctantly before turning back to me, her disapproving look making my stomach churn.
“Tomorrow, you’ll be living with that Tom guy,” Dad announced.
Their voices blurred as they continued talking. My mind was too busy spiraling. Then it hit me—school.
What if the school finds out? I’d be expelled. My reputation will be ruined. My position on the student council would be gone, and my dreams of running for secretary next year would be over. I felt my chest tighten, and I exhaled sharply.
“Don’t worry about school,” Dad said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “I’ll tell the principal myself.”
My stomach dropped.
I doubled over slightly in discomfort, and they noticed. Both of them made a move to help, but I stopped them.
“No, Greg,” Mom interjected, her voice pleading. “The principal doesn’t need to know. Not yet. Anyway, Samantha’s belly isn’t showing yet. No one will notice.”
Dad’s eyes widened slightly, but Mom kept going.
“Let her finish this semester. Or better yet, the whole year. She won’t go into labor by then,” she said, letting out a nervous laugh. “How many months are left? Six, right?”
“Yeah, six months. And by then, our daughter will look like Baymax,” Dad muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he didn’t want to laugh at his own joke.
Mom chuckled softly, but their brief moment of levity only made me feel worse.
Dad exhaled and shook his head. “Alright. Fine. Whatever. You’ll finish school. No one at the school has to know anything about this.”
Relief washed over me, and my spirits lifted slightly. My parents had read my mind without me saying a word.
Wow. I really am my parents’ child.
Later that night, Dad didn’t let Tom leave. My family insisted he stay the night, claiming it would be a “hassle” to let him head home so late—even though it was only 8 PM. I knew the real reason: they wanted to make sure he wouldn't run off before he picked me up tomorrow to take me to his apartment.
By 10 PM, everyone had gone to bed except me. Tom was sitting in Gustin’s room, and I decided to sit on the front porch to get some air. It was the perfect time to cry and let out all my frustration now that the house was quiet.
The sound of the front door creaking open startled me. I turned to see Tom tiptoeing out, freezing when he noticed me.
“Leaving already?” I asked sarcastically.
He smirked, his tone just as sarcastic. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Aww, what about the baby?” I teased.
He glared at me, clearly annoyed, which made it even more amusing.
“Shut up! I don’t even know how I got dragged into this mess! I was just walking by, minding my own business, and suddenly, I’m a dad?! What the hell!”
I wanted to laugh, but guilt started to creep in. He wasn’t wrong—it was unfair to him.
But before I could respond, he continued. “I mean, come on. I know I’m handsome, but—”
I snorted before he could finish.
“Sorry, please, go on,” I said, stifling my laughter.
His face flushed red with anger, which made him even more attractive. Was this the hormones talking? Probably.
“As I was saying,” he said, clearing his throat, “it’s physically impossible for me to have gotten you pregnant. What? I walked by, and my hotness magically got you pregnant? Did we have telepathic s*x or something?”
I frowned. “Why can’t you just accept the fact that you’re going to have a baby?” I snapped, poking his chest with my finger.
He didn’t like that. His expression darkened, and he grabbed my wrist tightly, his eyes locking on mine. I tried to pull away, but his grip was strong.
“Now I remember you,” he said coldly. “You’re the girl who told the principal about me. Got me detention. Made me clean all those damn toilets.”
I swallowed hard, my wrist still trapped in his grip.
“And now, you’ve dragged me into this? Do you even know who I am?” he hissed.
Of course, I knew who he was. Tom Miller wasn’t just some random guy. He was the Tom Miller—the infamous thug rumored to have sent a gym teacher to the hospital after an argument. He supposedly led an underground gang, bullied whoever he wanted, and vandalized anything in sight.
Finally, I managed to yank my wrist free, rubbing it as I glared at him.
“What do I have to do to make you believe this is your child?” I asked, deciding it was time to put my acting skills to the test.
“Nothing. Because it’s not,” he shot back.
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
The argument devolved into several rounds of “yes” and “no” before I finally said, “May I remind you... my dad’s a cop?”
That shut him up.
Tom’s bravado faltered for a moment, and I could tell he was calculating the risk. He was a thug, but he knew my dad could throw him in cuffs anytime he wanted.
“Fine,” he muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his ripped jeans. “Just make sure no one finds out about this. Or else... you’re dead.”
He turned back to the door, opening it with an annoyingly loud creak. We both cringed at the sound.
“Goodnight, snookie-poo,” I called after him, smirking.
He turned his head to glare at me. “Screw you,” he said before disappearing inside.
And with that, the night ended. But I knew this was just the beginning of the chaos.
- Writer
