Sorry it took me so long to update this chapter. Been busy, whatever, insert meaningful excuse here, yada yada yada. I know you guys don't really care, so here's the chapter:

It was the first day back to school from winter break and the aroma of normalcy was returning. Zombie students walked the halls, deep bags beneath their eyes, and the open mouthed yawn permanently embedded on their faces. Not a bright eye in the building. Including mine. Safe to say I had thoroughly fucked up my sleeping schedule during Christmas break.

"Guess Sikowitz ain't showin' up today." Andre sighed.

It was now twenty minutes into fourth period, Sikowitz's class, who seemed to not be present today.

"HA! Who could blame him?" Rex piped from Robbie's lap.

I sit back, sipping my daily cup of coffee, in silence, attempting to drone them out. Beck was at my side, combat booted feet propped up onto a free chair. He was quiet, as well, probably sleeping, or attempting to. I couldn't muster up the energy to glance his way and confirm my theory.

"Maybe we should go look for him?" I suddenly heard Tori suggest.

"Vega, when you get an excuse to slack off and do nothing, don't question it." I hissed.

A chorus of "Yeah's" flooded the room and I smiled, triumphantly.

"But what if Sikowitz is in some sort of trouble?" A naïve Cat wailed.

Eye roll. "He's probably still nursing a hangover from his New Year's escapades. Crazy hippie."

"God knows I am. Those Northridge girls are cra-a-azy." Moaned Rex. Jesus. Get me out of here.

"Rex, stop. That's highly inappropriate," chastised Robbie.

From my right, I felt Beck jerk and mutter some inaudible noise. Yep, definitely asleep.

"Well, good morning, sleeping beauty," I murmured, tone flat, finally finding the slight bit of energy to turn his way.

Although he had only been sleeping in class, his bedhead remained undeniable. He rubbed his tired eyes, sheepishly. Why was he so damn adorable? Ugh.

"Morning," he grinned at me, and eyed my coffee. "Mind if I steal a drink of that?"

He reached out for the cup and I scowled at him. "Uh, uh, uh, mister. I only get one of these a day. I cannot waste a precious drop on the likes of you." I took a taunting swig.

Beck frowned at me. "But I'm exhausted. Please."

Not impressive. "Not my fault you were up all night watching your Full House DVD's." I said, a bit louder, and gained the attention of several half slumbering classmates.

His frown deepened and he widened his eyes slightly at me. "Can you lower your tone?" He pleaded, through clenched teeth.

I shrugged and tipped back the coffee, the sweet liquid grazing my lips. "Mmm," I smiled. "So good."
Beck lowered his eyes at me. "What do you want?"

I smirked. "Tell you what; you'll buy me a brand new cup at lunch if I give you the rest of this one."

"Fine," he grumbled, snatching the cup from my hands.

He was far too easy. I sat back, victoriously, and rested my heavy eyes from the remainder of the class period.

Once the bell commenced that class was over and Sikowitz had failed to show, we escaped the seemingly stuffy classroom and the crisp winter air assaulted my bare arms. Although Hollywood was typically warm, the weather was uncharacteristically brisk and unwelcomingly cold today. I slipped my leather jacket on as Beck and I approached an empty table and took a seat.

"Before you get too comfortable, remember our little wager, Oliver."

Beck smiled a small smile and got up to retrieve me a coffee.

"Two sugars!" I shouted at him.

"I know what to do!" He hollered back, as he walked away.

I was blessed with only mere moments of silence before Cat took a seat across from me. "Hi!" she smiled, setting down her sandwich and Wahoo punch.

"Are you not getting any food?" Her eyebrows knit together in concern.

"I'm getting coffee," I told her, attempting not to sound incredibly happy about it, although it was difficult to make coffee not sound amazing.

She took a hearty bite of her sandwich. And gazed up in time to realize I was watching her. "Want some?" She asked, mouth full of whatever contents filled the bread…tuna, maybe?

I shook my head vigorously, suddenly feeling somewhat nauseated.

Suddenly, my PearPhone began vibrating to life from my lap. I nearly jumped and brought my phone into the light as I read the number of the unknown caller through the glare of the sun against my screen. I didn't recognize the number, so I pressed "Ignore".

"Jade, eat my chips." Cat demanded in a sing song voice as she pushed the plastic bag my way.

I frowned at the potato chips. They did not look at all appetizing. "Nah, I'm good."

The petite redhead's frown deepened. Her bottom lip began to quiver and before I knew what the hell was happening, she erupts into a ballad of sobs and whimpers. "But Jadey! You have to eat! Otherwise, the baby will starve and I won't be Aunt Cat!" she continued to cry and passer byers stared at her incredulously.

"Cat!" I hissed through clenched teeth, leaning across the table. "Be calm."

It was difficult to remember the last occurrence Cat was this hormonal. She remained to have frequent outburst, but they hadn't surpassed manageable in quite some time. I idly wondered why she was throwing a temper tantrum, like one of a two year old, but disregarded the fact and decided to focus on getting her to shut the hell up.

Although I'd retired the constant hoodie since winter break and today had dared to wear a lose purple tank top, and a good majority of the student body was aware of my pregnancy (what the hell is a secret in Hollywood anyway), I still didn't need her shouting in the Asphalt Café about me starving my growing fetus. I think my peers hated me enough.

What the fuck was taking Beck so long?

Is this what it was life to have a small child? They'll just start making a grand scene in public that depicts you as some awful person because you can't find a way to shut your damn kid up? Because ugh.

But her incessant sobbing clearly refused to cease until I ate a damn chip, so I did exactly that, and her obnoxious crying transformed into a merely mildly obnoxious sniffling.

"There! Are you happy?" I asked, swallowing my mouthful of chip.

She laughed, lightly. "Kinda." And she wiped away various tears caught on her tanned cheeks.

My phone buzzed yet again, and I immediately glared down at the screen. It popped up in big bright letters: New Voicemail. I groaned.

"I'll be back," I announced, and with that, I propped myself up from the table and stalked off to a not so populated area of campus.

I pressed "Listen" on my keypad and immediately froze at the voice who came on the speaker and filled my ears.

It was my father.

.

Beck found me several minutes later with a frown on his face and no coffee in hands.

"Where did you go?" He asked, his brows furrowing. He sounded as if he were out of breath and clutched to his chest to steady his rapid heartbeat. "I got back to the table and Cat looked like she'd been crying and wouldn't tell me anything and you were just—gone."

I didn't speak for a moment, and for some reason, he continued to ramble, clearly frazzled, seeming to run hand after hand through that fluffy hair of his.

"God, you're so pale. What happened? Is the baby okay?"

It took me a moment to finally comprehend his words. I grasped my stomach as he mentioned our baby, and nodded, dumbfounded.

"The baby is okay." I told him, finding my gaze present on the pavement.

"Jade," He breathed, placing his hands on either side of my shoulders. "What is happening? You're scaring me."

And I could tell I was by the wild look in his eyes.

"My dad called," I finally stated.

I witnessed mild relief in Beck's pools of brown, but a crease remained embedded between his eyebrows as he stared at me straight on. "What did he say?"

I swallowed hard.

"He, uh, he told me he wants to take me out to dinner. He said my mom got bad again and he wants to talk about it over dinner."

.

At my request, we didn't speak of the lunch incident again until the end of the day. It was the ride home from Hollywood Arts in which Beck began to pry me with questions.

"What does getting bad mean, Jade?"

I bit down feverishly on my lower lip. "I really don't know. I won't until I call him. It could mean anything—really."

I sighed and propped my face into my palm, leaning against the passenger side window.

Beck took one hand off the steering wheel, and awkwardly placed it on my thigh. I didn't have the heart to shake him off.

"Just try not to get stressed—not until we know what this is about."

I didn't reply, but took his words and attempted to obey him, taking deep breaths and running my fingers through my hair ever so often.

Once we entered the RV, I excused myself and walked outside. I wanted to talk to my father in somewhat of a private environment. So I walked along the gardened path near Beck's driveway as I dialed the foreign number into my keypad.

I vaguely felt Beck's mother's glare from the window of his house's living room, but quickly disregarded it. I didn't have time for her shit. Too busy with my own mother's.

Suddenly, a very formal: "Hello? Jadelyn?"

"Yeah, it's me." I told him, my voice much more vulnerable than I had intended.

"I'm pleased you called me back." His business voice was sickening to me. I spent the whole time shifting from leg to leg just fucking praying my mother's heart was still beating while he wasted time, to preoccupied with pleasantries.

Impatient, I hurried him. "What's going on with Mom? Is she okay?"

He sighed deeply into the receiver. "I'd much rather discuss the details of your mother over dinner."

"Yeah, well, there will be no such dinner if you don't tell me what the fuck is going on right now."

I began to yell and this time knew that the elder Oliver's were peering out on me from the warmth of their home, dastard expressions on their faces.

"Very suitable language for a mother to be," Roy reprimanded me, his voice disdain.

I rolled my eyes, even though I knew he couldn't see it.

"Just tell me if my mom is okay," I pleaded, after a moment of silence.

"She'll be okay, Jadelyn. I promise. She just—" he paused, and I could tell he was doing that thing he did where he pinched the bridge of his nose, once he felt a migraine coming on. "She had another episode."

From a distance, I saw that Beck had peeled the blinds from the window of his RV back, and was watching me, as well, a look of concern coating his features. Damn, these Olivers were nosy.

"I really would prefer to discuss the rest of this at dinner, face to face. I could pick you up at seven—when I get off from work, if you could just send me the address of which you're staying."

"I'll drive myself." I cut him off. "Just send me the address of whatever swanky restaurant we're going to." I told him, before hanging up.

As I whipped around, all of the Olivers disappeared sheepishly behind the curtains, drawing back from the scene I had made and back into their lives.

.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Beck asked me for the umpteenth time.

And also for the umpteenth time, I nodded my head at him and reminded him I was sure.

"I have to do this by myself." I repeated, unsure if I was trying to convince him or myself, moreso. "And besides, I don't want him thinking we're back together. Or that I'm mooching off you and your place."

There was a twinge of hurt displayed clearly on Beck's place but he quickly shook it away into one of pure amusement. I decided I didn't have the time, nor the energy to question it.

"You're not 'mooching' off me, Jade. I like having you here." He told me this often, but I never could bring myself to believe him. Who the hell would want their ex-girlfriend living with them, constantly lurking in the depths of his business, sleeping in the same bed with him?

His gaze dropped from my eyes to my protruding belly. I realized that was it. He wanted me here because of the baby—because of his baby. The only reason he cared about me was because of him. Beck was concerned with his son's well-being, not mine. And once my pregnancy expired, so would this special treatment.

It was surprising how difficult it was to admit that to myself. But I disregarded it, realizing I had much more potent things to trouble my mind than everlasting pangs directed towards my ex.

.

I was right—about the restaurant being swanky. It was extravagant, to say the least.

The lighting was dim and the environment withheld a bit of a romantic setting, which made it slightly creepy I was meeting my father here. The hostess asked me my name as I entered. I figured the reservation would be under "West" and I told her so.

Upon entering, I realized I was exceedingly underdressed. I wore one of my last black jeans that fit my expanding abdomen area and a lose black sweater, swapping my usual black combat boots for black leather instead, which were exceedingly tight due to the intense swell of my feet. He can't say I didn't try.

"Ah, right, West. Follow me this way." And I did, through what seemed to be a maze of dimly lit dining halls and separate rooms. Finally, she led me to a table clothed table, seating my father and stepmother.

Although I knew this was over a serious matter, I was slightly disappointed when I realized, Alex, my thirteen year old brother would not be joining us. I hardly ever got to see him anymore, for he lived with my father and was legally within his custody, as I was with my mother. It wasn't either of our faults they split us in two and pawned us off like their money. But it was still shitty.

My stepmother, Gabrielle's, expression towards my demeanor was priceless. She appeared appalled. I smirked, but then noted my father's grim appearance, and my face became blank.

I sat down, and we seemed to skip all forms of pleasantries, because we sat in silence until ordering, and then my father began talking a million miles a minute, all while keeping up his formal stature.

"I'm afraid that your mother has been institutionalized once more. She hasn't been taking here medicine—" (big surprise there) "and had an episode."

I frowned at him, and remained speechless as they brought out our salads.

Once the waiter disappeared, I stared him square in the face. "By episode—do you mean she tried to kill herself again?"

Gabrielle nearly gasped at my bluntness and I stifled an eye roll. My father merely nodded, eyes gleamed.

"How'd she do it?" I asked dryly, suddenly not hungry at all, although I truly had felt rather nauseous all day.

"Jade, sweetie, that's really not—"

"I want to know." I snapped at my supposed stepmother with a glare.

My father didn't bullshit me. That was one thing I'd always admired about him. One meniscal thing that didn't overshadow all the things I detested about the main, but still.

"She overdosed on some pain pills." His tone was flat, but his eyes indicated his sorrow. And what was that? Remorse? Roy West feeling guilty? That's rich.

Although he would never say it out loud—he truly did remain to care about my mother. He simply couldn't be with her anymore. It's not like I'd blamed him, for leaving her. I just didn't ever truly understand why that meant leaving me.

I nodded, and as tears filled my eyes, I quickly looked down and shook them away. "I see." I said, my voice breaking on the last syllable.

"Where is she?" I asked after a moment. "Can I—Can I see her?"

My father's mouth formed a line, not quite a frown. It was an emotionless line. "No. Not yet. The doctors feel it's best if she waits a while to see anyone."

Betrayal rushed through me, as did anger. "But I'm her daughter."

"I know, Jadelyn. That's not what I said. It's what the doctors said."

My eyes welled up in tears once more and I couldn't rid them of the moisture this time. "But—" a shattered sob separated my words. "It's my fault." I whispered.

Gabrielle extended her hand to place on mine, and gave me a sympathetic look. "No, no, honey. It's not. Don't say that."

I ripped my hand from underneath hers. "I'm not your honey!"

We earned the attention of several eyes throughout the restaurant and my father bid me with a threatening glower.

My lips formed that same expressionless line, matching the one my father had previously worn as I attempted to take ahold of myself. We were all quiet for several minutes, and I refused to look either of them in the eye.

"There was something else, Jadelyn." Roy began, but I was too busy memorizing the thread count of the table cloth. He carried on, any who. "We were wondering if you would like to move in with us." This, however, earned my attention. "We would support you—and your baby. I want to be a part of my grandchild's life, and a part of your life."

I hid whatever desire I once had to fulfill a rewarding relationship with my father behind my poker face that consisted of a glare. He wouldn't break me—not here, not now.

"I think it's just too little, too late, Roy. "

"Jade, I know I wasn't the best father to you. But I want to try—if you'd let me."

I chuckled a long, cynical laugh that withheld no humor. "I can't do this." And I stood up, nearly bumping my stomach on the hardwood of the table. I winced at the short impact and turned my back on the duo of gold-digger and gold-digee.

"Jade, wait! Please give us a chance!" Gabrielle screeched as I walked away.

But I ignored her. I held my head high, and I didn't look back.

What they didn't realize is I didn't need my daddy anymore. I didn't need anyone. Life had matured me thoroughly. I was my own person and no belated cheesy relationship with my absentee father was going to change that. I'd never truly belonged to any of them anyway.

I was nobody's daughter. And I didn't give a damn.

Not sure how I feel about this, lots darker than I intended.

whatever.

If you enjoyed this darkness, you should check out my other story: You and I Will Never Be Nothing, which contains lots of Bade and Jori/Cade friendship. That's partly the reason it took me so long to publish this. I was rather focused on that.

Shameless self promotion. Deal with it.

Please review this chapter, it means a lot.