A/N: Okay. So this chapter will be the backstory, and it's kinda long, which might not be so entertaining, but very necessary.

I know I'm getting facts about his family wrong, so y'all don't need to tell me. I know about his home life, but it's complicated as hell. His sister and niece and dad that's, like, not his real dad, but then isn't his real dad around too? And I think his sister's a lot older than him. And just… I really hate characters having complicated families. I like the main character to be complicated, and the family to be simple. It doesn't have to be 100% accurate, right? Let's say, for the sake of this fanfic, that his dad is his real dad, parents married, sister's closer to his age, and his niece doesn't exist. I will try not to bring up the family that much, but for the backstory I kinda have to. So just remember I know it's not accurate.


"Toby," she said quietly, pulling on my sleeve.

I heard her, but I didn't say anything, because I was afraid I might start crying in front of my girlfriend and that would be embarrassing. But that's what I felt like doing. Crying. Maybe for the rest of my life. And I was angry, too, that God, if He is up there somewhere, would even allow this to happen to me. I was a kid. I was too young to handle it and I just wanted it to go away. If I could, I would have taken it all back right then. I wouldn't think about it.

"Toby, are you gonna tell your mom?" Lauren asked.

"I have to," I replied, looking straight at my feet.

"I can't tell my mom. I can't. And my Dad… he'll hate me. He'll hate me."

"You should go home, Lauren," I told her.

"What?"

"It's late. Your Mom'll call soon for you anyway. Just go now."

She sat there for a minute, beside me on my bed, before getting up and leaving. And when she left, I fell apart.

Her parents were the ones that told my parents and after that my parents weren't the same for a long time. My Mom usually talked a lot, but after that she always seemed zoned out and was a lot more quiet. She talked to my sister normally sometimes, but with me she never knew what to say. She was still mad. She would always be mad, I guessed.

And my Dad. He never talked much to begin with. He was quiet, reserved. Spent his time not at work in his garage, building, well, whatever he thought to build. But after he found out, he was mad at me like he never had been before. He didn't not talk to me because he just wasn't a talker, but didn't talk to me because he hated me. I was the biggest disappointment. No one in our family had ever fucked up so bad as to get someone pregnant at fourteen.

It was the worst thing I could have possibly done in their eyes. Get a girl pregnant. The second worst thing would be just to have sex, though, if Lauren hadn't gotten pregnant, they would never have found out about that.

I wanted Lauren to get an abortion. It was so simple. Everything would be fixed and back to normal. I would grow up and have kids when I was emotionally and financially ready. But neither my mother nor hers would ever allow that. Lauren wanted it too, though. She even told me she wished it would just die inside her so she wouldn't have to worry about it. I wished that too. It wasn't real yet. It wasn't a baby, but just a big mistake that would ruin our lives. We wanted it gone any way it could go. I hated it.

But on April 26th, 2000, it became real. And I looked at an angel wrapped in a pink blanket and she opened her eyes and they were hazel, just like mine. I remember before she was born hoping she'd have Lauren's blue eyes because I liked them better than my own, but then I saw her and I wouldn't have changed anything. I never even thought newborn babies were cute until I saw my own. I always said they looked like little aliens, but not my baby. She was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I'd ever seen and I didn't want to stop looking at her. But the nurses had to take her so I had to let her go. I waited by the nursery window for her to be put in one of the cribs so I could see her again. I couldn't believe that I was capable of creating another life. That day everything felt so surreal.

Her name was Avanna. I thought it was stupid. It wasn't even a real name. Lauren made it up. So I called her Van. I thought it made her sound cool. Kinda tough. Eventually, the nickname caught on and everyone called her that.

I told myself I would be the best dad in the world. But that just didn't happen.

Lauren and I broke up when Van was about two months old. I didn't really ever like Lauren that much, I guess, but she was pretty and willing to date me so I just went with it. She didn't go to the same school as I did, so once we broke up we didn't see each other much. She brought Van over sometimes, but I usually didn't do much with her. My sister or my mom did, then got mad at me for playing video games the whole time. But I just didn't know what to do.

When Lauren went on a trip with her school (it was some kind of band thing, I think) for a weekend her parents left Van with us. She was one and she cried a lot. I didn't hardly touch her the whole time. I went to the movies, I went to my friend's house, I claimed I had an essay due Monday—whatever could get me out of taking care of a child. I didn't know how to do that.

When I left for college I didn't see her for an entire year. Lauren (and Van) went to Virginia and I stayed in Florida. It just never worked out. After a year, Lauren came back to our hometown for Christmas, and I was there too, so we got together. We had lunch. I saw Van. She was five. Her brown hair was long and wavy. Then I left and didn't see her for two more years.

After those two years I decided I was going to see her for holidays. I wanted to at least do that. So I did. I visited for Christmas and for her birthday. It was always a little awkward. She was a little uncomfortable and I was too. It wasn't like we knew each other. But when I visited her for her 15th birthday in April, Lauren had a plan.

Van would stay with me for the whole summer. The whole summer. I wasn't sure about that. Van wasn't sure about that. Actually, she was probably completely against it, but just didn't want to say that. But Lauren was going Africa to tell kids about Jesus (Lauren had become very religious when she was in college; it was pretty sudden) and Van did not want to accompany her, so if she could stay with me in LA, well that would be perfect. We could bond (and this is what she told me when Van wasn't in the room) and I could finally get to really know her. We could actually have a relationship.

If I couldn't, then her parents could, but it would be 'so totally great' if I could.

And I said I could. But I wasn't sure I could.