I never knew that a thin blue line could change my life as much as it has. Of course, it's actually much more than that. There is another heart beating in my body, another brain, ten more fingers, ten more toes. I don't know how to tell anyone, but I feel like I have to. I know I have to. It's just that I don't think I can handle disappointing my parents again. Then again, I don't live in their house anymore, so it's not like they can just kick me out like last time. This is a bigger problem. My last big problem wasn't finalized...it was changable. This is irreversable.

I wish I knew how irreversable it really was that day. The day after Craig had fought with Ellie. The day after I wore the tight green top that was too low at the top, and too high at the bottom. The day that I knew I was doing something wrong. But we can't forget that I am Manuella Santos. I am the Queen of Wrong. Craig came over in the morning, as I sat outside in my way-too-embarrassing pajamas drinking coffee and reading a magazine. I even said the word, "jamies." Why couldn't I have just said pajamas like normal people? We talked for what should have been longer before he kissed me. Or I kissed him. Or we kissed each other. It doesn't matter that much. We kissed. It was sweet and farmiliar, and didn't feel wrong at all. It felt surprisingly right, as though my lips were meant to meet his again, sooner or later.

Craig must have hated my pajamas because he soon tore them off. Not necessarily tore, but you get what I'm saying. It was in the backyard, behind the playground-type-thing that Mr. Simpson had recently bought Baby Jack. We made sure no one was around, no one could see. I guess we weren't careful enough, though. That's when I felt the "wrongness" kicking in. I was thinking the whole time that I shouldn't be doing this. I should be sitting in front of this house with my coffee made by a member of the amazing, caring family inside, reading the magazine that I started out reading. I should not be back here with my ex, or maybe not ex, boyfriend, doing what I'm doing. I thought about JT and Liberty at one point, also. Liberty dashing out of class and into the bathroom to throw up, and walking around on her sore ankles. I thought of Ashley's song from a year or two back. "You say how sad. You say poor thing. But when it's you, it's something else. It's everything." I knew what was happening, somehow. I knew that in a few weeks, I would find out for sure that my thoughts were in fact, totally true.

So now I sat here, with a problem. A huge problem. A Mount Everest problem. A solar system problem, even. I pressed my hand to my stomach and held it, admiring the semi-flatness that I was critizing a few weeks ago. It was two months later. The time had gone so fast, with my mind virtually carefree. I didn't know that this massive complication was going to soon appear.

I hear Emma pit-patting down the stairs, the monkey slippers that I bought her covering her little ballerina feet.

"Hey, Manny." she says, easily. If I weren't me, I would look at her enviously. I would think she was without a care, or a problem. I would be jealous of her gorgeous, wavy blond hair, and her big, puppydog brown eyes. Her body looked flawless from anyone else's point of view. However, I am me. And because I am me, I know that there is more to Emma than her model body and her beautiful face. I know that her model body is not nearly that to her. I know that I suffered along with her through her eating disorders and insecurities.

"Hey, Em." She sat on her bed and folded her legs, Indian style.

"God, can you believe the English homework? I can't believe Ms. Kwan gave us this huge assignment already. Like, come on, give us a break, lady, we're still in summer mode."

"Mmhmm." I agreed, quietly and half-heartedly, spinning around the pregnancy test that I had hidden behind my back.

"You okay?" She asked, shoving Juicy Fruit into her mouth. I closed my eyes, partially because they stung. Partially because I feared that if I kept them open any longer, I couldn't stop tears from coming. I swallowed hard, and argued with myself in my head whether I should tell her or not. Maybe I should take another test? No. I had to tell her.

"Em, I need to talk to you."

Hey guys, thanks for reading. Let me know if you like it. Thanks :)