The lack of communication happening during this car ride was enough to drive me completely insane. Peyton was still staring out of the window, in shock. Her perfect world had become cloudy, and guess who was the one to cloud it. This guy. If only we hadn't have hooked up a few months ago, she wouldn't be pregnant, or maybe she would be, who knew. Then it would have definitely been Kennedy's one hundred percent.

"We fucked up," she whispered, still looking out of the window.

So she had thought about the possibility of this not being Kennedy's child. I didn't know what to say, so I just kept driving, keeping my thoughts to myself. "We fucked up so bad," she continued.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," I sighed.

"I'm married, John. I have been married for approximately three days and now I am pregnant with a child that could or could not be my husbands," she choked out, wiping her eyes. "What am I going to do?"

I pulled the car over on the side of the road and put it in park. I faced her and thought about all of her options. She didn't have many.

"The way I see it, you have two choices. You can go home and tell Kennedy the truth, or you can go home and not tell Kennedy the truth."

"I can't lie to him, John."

"Why not? You were so good at lying to me." It was out of my mouth before I even had a chance to think about it. I really had gotten over that. It happened months ago. Whatever. It was something that I shouldn't have said, but now it was too late. She pursed her lips and looked out of the window again.

"Sorry. I didn't mean that the way it came out. I just meant that if you had to, I am sure that you could play it off like this was his baby. I mean, who knows Peyton. It very well could be. We could be worrying over nothing."

"That's not the point, John," she shook her head. "You don't understand. I wanted a family. You knew that. I have always wanted a family," she paused and finally looked at me. "But I wanted a normal family. Not a fucked up family. I wanted to wait until I was mature enough. I got married young, because I know Kennedy is the man I am supposed to be with. I wanted to wait until I was at least 25 to start even thinking about kids, but look at me now."

"I know, Lainey," I sighed, closing my eyes and resting my head on the back of the seat.

"Don't call me that anymore," she sniffed. "Please," she added, when she saw the hurt look on my face. I gazed out of my window and watched the cars pass by, wondering if the people inside were harboring lives as messed up as ours. We screwed up, that much was clear. We were facing the consequences months later. That was what growing up was all about.

"I need to tell Kennedy," she finally said, breaking the silence. "Our marriage can make it through something like this. It may have just started, but I know things will be okay."

"Are you going to tell him tonight?"

"Well, I am three and half months pregnant, John. I am going to start showing soon. I thought my jeans were just fitting tighter because I was stressed and eating more, but oh hey, guess what, I am with child," she said, rather sarcastically. I started the car back up and merged onto the road. I wasn't in the mood for this. I understood that she didn't particularly want to have a child so early in her life, but she hadn't even asked me how I was.

I was scared shitless. What if this was my child? What if I was a terrible father? What if it ended up being in a situation like Cameron's? What if Peyton didn't want me around and Kennedy assumed the role as this child's father, just like Garrett did with Will? Would I be okay with that? Would she actually let that happen? It wasn't even like that with Garrett and Cameron anyway. Cameron had his chance to step up and be a father. He never took it. I was getting way ahead of myself. Chances are this child wasn't even mine. Peyton and I only had sex twice the whole time we have known each other. One time happened over a year ago, the other just a few months ago. It was spur of the moment, and totally not romantic, and now, potentially, leading us to bigger problems. As she put it so bluntly earlier, we fucked up.

/\\/\\/\\

"Do you want me to go in with you?" I asked after we had idly sat in front of her house for around ten minutes.

"Yes," she nodded. "No," she said unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing her bag. "Fuck. Yes, come on O'Callaghan," she growled, climbing out of my car and slamming the door. I took a deep breath and followed her lead, walking down the path that lead to her front door, and ultimately, to her husband. I stood awkwardly waiting for her to unlock the door, which apparently stuck, so she said. She jiggled it a few times and pushed hard, the door flew open, pulling her with it.

"You need to fix that, soon." I said, grabbing her arm before she completely ate the hardwood floor.

"No kidding," she sighed, righting herself and fixing her dress.

"Peyton?" I heard Kennedy call out from somewhere inside of the beast of a house too big for a three person family. Lucky for the house, another member was on the way.

"Yeah it's me. We need to fix this god damned fucking piece of shit door, Kennedy," she yelled back.

"Yeah, daddy. It's a pansy door," Olivia chimed in, running through the foyer in a princess dress, with finger paint dripping down her arms. "UNCLE JOHN!"

"Hey squirt," I said, holding my hand up for a high five, dumb on my part since I had previously seen the finger paint collected on her paws.

"Want to paint with me?" she asked.

"Actually, I need to talk to Peyton and your daddy for a few minute. What do you say you go wash your hands and work on that chord progression I taught you last week. Come get me in twenty minutes and show me."

She nodded, fervently and ran up the stairs. I wiped the paint on my jeans.

"John's here?" Kennedy asked, rounding the corner. As soon as I saw him, I thought that maybe this wasn't the best idea. This might have been something Peyton needed to tell him alone. Me being here was only going to make things worse. I was here for moral support, but Kennedy was about to have his ego bruised a little, and me being here, well he would think that I was rubbing it in his face, and believe me, that was the last thing I was doing.

"Kennedy," Peyton said, biting her lip, which made Kennedy shift his weight from one foot to the other. I had known both of them for years. These were both things they did when they were nervous. "We need to talk."

Kennedy ran his fingers through his hair roughly and wiped his eyes. He was tired and not in the mood, but he was going to listen to whatever it was Peyton had to say, because he loved her that much. I could tell.

"Okay," he finally said with a nod.

"I went to the doctor today," Peyton said, setting her bag down on the table in the foyer, slowly leading us to the living room. I followed behind them, only thinking about the choice of weaponry Kennedy would use to kill me with. It was becoming like a game of clue in my head. "Kennedy Brock with the microphone chord in the closet under the stairs."

I sat down on the couch and grabbed a throw pillow, a little protection to shield me from the oncoming attack.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the concern in his tone literally made me want to vomit. So much love in this room and none of it was for me. Stop feeling sorry for yourself little emo boy. This game of Clue may have a different ending. "It was John O'Callaghan, hanging himself in the basement."

"I'm fine," she smiled, placing her hand over his, trying to calm him. He lifted her hand to his lips for a brief kiss and I could feel my lunch start to make reappearance. I wondered if they were like this all of the time or if it was just in front of me. Something told me they were like this all of the time.

"Then what's going on?" he asked, looking from her to me, and then back to her, waiting for some sort of explanation. It wasn't going to come from me, that's for sure.

"I know we wanted to wait," she started, and I could hear the emotion in her tone, she was going to lose it any second, "and we're only 22, and we just got married, but" and then she lost it.

"You're pregnant?" he guessed. Bingo. She just nodded.

"We're going to be parents?" he asked, unexpected excitement radiating through the room. It took Peyton by surprise, and she just stared at him. "Why do I feel like you aren't excited about this?" he asked. "There's no need to cry," he said, using his thumb to gently wipe away her tears.

"Kennedy," she grabbed his hand, pulling it away from her face. Here it comes. His confused face just made it that much harder for her to say it. I almost spoke up, but again, it wasn't my place.

"There's a possibility," she paused, trying to find the words it seemed, "a few months ago," she stopped again to take a deep breath, "when you were with Gabi, and I was seeing other people-" she stopped to wipe the tears away, but Kennedy wasn't stupid. He had already caught on. He knew I was there for a reason.

"Don't," he ripped his hand away from Peyton's grasp and started pacing back and forth. "If the next words that come out of your mouth have anything to do with the possibility of that baby not being mine, don't even."

"Kennedy," Peyton stood up.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he asked, glaring at me. I slowly nodded my head, placing the pillow back on the couch.

"After you stole her virginity, you had the audacity to have sex with her again?"

"You were with Gabi, Kennedy. What was she supposed to do, wait around for you?"

"Why him?" Kennedy asked, looking back towards Peyton. "God damn it, Peyton. How long have you been pregnant?"

"Three and a half months," she merely whispered.

"THREE AND A HALF MONTHS AND YOU JUST WENT TO THE DOCTOR?"

"I DIDN'T SHOW ANY NORMAL SYMPTOMS. WILL YOU STOP YELLING AT ME AND TALK TO ME?"

Kennedy just shook his head and looked from Peyton to me.

"Get out of my house." Then he looked at Peyton. "Both of you."

"Kennedy," she started.

"I can't talk to you right now. I need time to think about this."

"You can't be mad at me for something that happened when we weren't together," she said, wiping the mascara from her face, only to smear it more.

"I can't. You're right. But we're married Peyton. We have been married for exactly three days, and you are carrying a child that may not even be mine. I can't process this right now. I can't look at you and not think of anything but you fucking John," he sighed, and then slowly ascended the stairs, letting us know that this conversation was over.

/\\/\\/\\

"Oh god," Peyton said, burying her head in her hands. "He hates me. He's going to get our marriage annulled and act like it never happened. I will be a single parent, totally fucked."

"He doesn't hate you," I reassured her, weaving in and out of Tempe traffic, "He isn't going to get your marriage annulled. And don't ever think that you will go through this alone. You have me, and you have Julia."

"He's going to throw all of my shit out on the lawn, going to kick me out," she said, totally ignoring what I had just said, wiping her nose on the sleeve on my hoodie I let her borrow. How charming.

"Peyton, stop it." I sighed. She always did this.

"He doesn't want me anymore. He won't ever want to touch me anymore. He thinks I am tainted. Why did I ever have sex with you?"

"Peyton, you are starting to make me feel worse than I already do," I sighed, getting more annoyed with her ranting.

"Six more months until this thing comes out. Is it going to be like this for six months? Will my husband not want to look at me for six months? Will he hate me until we find out who's baby this is? What if this is your baby, John? What is he going to do?"

"Peyton, first of all. Shut the fuck up and actually listen to me. Kennedy is not going to leave you. If this baby happens to be mine, he is going to deal with it, because he loves you, anyone could see that. He wouldn't have given you that ridiculous sunrise wedding if he didn't love you. He would do anything for you. If this baby isn't his, well then you get to spend the rest of your lives popping out kids. You have more chances. He has a kid with another woman, do you still love that kid like it was your own?"

"Yes, I do," she nodded.

"Do you have any doubt in your mind that Kennedy wouldn't love this kid as much as you love Olivia?"

"This is different John. "

I pulled into my driveway and stared at the house I grew up in. My parent's wouldn't be too happy to see me right now, but they would get over it. They hadn't seen Peyton since we were in summer camp. They briefly met her once or twice. They heard a lot about her, but I would never let them meet her, not until I knew if it was going to work out. Now I had no choice. There was nowhere left to go right now. Peyton didn't want to tell anyone about the pregnancy right now, we were still trying to wrap our brains around it.

"So this is casa de O'Callaghan?"

"This is it."

As soon as I unlocked the door, my mom and dad were all over me, asking me questions as to why I was there. I just told them that I didn't want to explain, I would talk to them in the morning. I did the introductions. Peyton seemed thrilled to finally meet my parents, and they seemed to like her, but I was tired, and we had had a long day.

I rushed her up the stairs into my bedroom before my parents could ask her any more questions.

"I'm sorry. I just never bring girls home, so they tend to freak out."

"It's fine," she shrugged. "Can I have something to sleep in?"

"Uh, yeah," I said, trying to remember if I did laundry this week. Or even this month. I found a Ryan Adams shirt and some boxers, which seemed good enough for her. She started getting undressed right in front of me, which made me really uncomfortable. My gaze lingered on her stomach unintentionally. It wasn't as flat as it once was. It wasn't enough to notice or alert Peyton that she was with child, obviously, but now that we knew, you could tell. I turned around and turned my computer on. I knew she had to have music on to sleep. Certain things about her I would never forget.

I turned on a playlist of Brighten and Ryan Adams for her.

"I'll sleep on the floor." I said, grabbing a pillow off of my bed.

"Don't be stupid, John. I know you aren't going to try anything," she yawned and rolled over. I flipped off the light and climbed into bed, hoping that tomorrow would bring a better day.

I don't see how it could have been any worse than today.