Author's Note: I am not even going to justify this long hiatus, because I truly have no excuse. I just have had little inspiration lately, which is no excuse to stop writing this story, but I love this tale and I am not going to abandon it. Needless to say, I am thankful for everyone who reviewed, but in interests of not postponing the story any longer than necessary, I will just say a HUGE thank you goes out to those people who reviewed, even though I am not going to take writing time away in order to thank you all individually. That should hopefully be reinstated next chapter. But without any further ado...


Chapter 12

Jackie

I knew that I shouldn't have bothered speaking to John. He would insert innuendo into every word that I spoke and who knew what heinous thing he would force me to do in exchange for the favor he'd be paying me? I didn't want to find out, but I had no choice. We had made a deal and if I ever wanted to see my father, I'd just have to deal with the consequences.

I couldn't help letting out a huge sigh as I threw my cell phone across the room, only hearing and not seeing it land on the chair on the other side of the coffee table.

"I can't believe I let you talk me into this," I moaned.

"Jackie, you know it's the right decision," Haylie said. "You need to know about your father and John is the only person who can help you."

"But who knows what he will make me do in exchange for that help?" I said. "He might make me pretend to be his girlfriend or have sex with him or something terrible like that. I have no clue what goes on in his head."

"He agreed to help you. That's the most important thing."

"Really?" I said. "Because I think that not giving up every single moral I possess is more important than him agreeing to meet with me."

Haylie sighed. "Have you considered just telling him the truth?"

"And have him tell everyone? No thanks."

I leaned my head against the back of the couch, wishing I could just drown out Haylie's optimism: she said that maybe he wouldn't tell anyone. Maybe he would be able to keep his mouth shut, you shouldn't judge people when you don't even really know what they've gone through, yadda, yadda, yadda.

It was almost too much. I couldn't handle it.

"Listen, Haylie," I said. "If I want to tell him, I will. You can't force me to." I lifted my head off the top of the couch and stared at her. "I don't think that he will understand. I don't want to risk it until I know I can trust him. Is that so bad?"

"I guess not," Haylie admitted. "I don't agree, but—I guess, in the end, you're doing exactly what I would do."

I nodded. "All right. So that's settled."

"What now?"

That was the question I was about to ask, but to be perfectly honest, I had no clue. Even though I was closer to meeting my father than I had ever been, I was no closer to figuring out what happened years ago. If I couldn't meet my father... I'd be right back at square one and not even my mother would be around to question anymore.

My father was in town. He was in New York City, only a few blocks away, most likely, and I couldn't see him.

He probably didn't even know I was here.

"We need to do something," I said. "I just... I don't know what. Maybe all we can do is wait to talk to John."

"I know you said that you didn't want to read any more of the journal with me, that you thought you should be alone for it, but..." Haylie hesitated. "I think it might be good. To know as much as we can before possibly meeting Chad."

I saw Haylie's point. In order to truly make the most out of my conversation with John, I needed to know as much as possible. To do that... I had to read the journal. Even though I didn't want to. Even though it almost felt like a betrayal to read it with someone else that was uninvolved in all the conflict.

"Okay," I said. "It's in my bag. Can you go get it?"

Haylie nodded and stood up, exiting the room in favor of the hall. I leaned my head against the back of the couch once more, closing my eyes. I wondered what my father looked like now. What had he been doing for the past sixteen years? Did he even know that I was in this city? Did he know where my mom was? And if he did... then would he seek me out? Would he search for me?

If he didn't, I would search for him. I needed to know him, now that he was so close. I just needed something from him.

"Here you go," Haylie said, returning from the hall and throwing the bag on the couch.

I dug inside the bag and pulled out the journal, running my fingers along its surface for a minute. What secrets were still in here?

"Before we start, we should get some snacks," I said.

Haylie immediately agreed—even though we had demolished a whole pizza between the two of us, it didn't hurt to have some junk food to munch on—and so I soon found myself digging in the refrigerator, taking out two cans of soda, a bunch of strawberries, and a container of whipped cream. When I finally stood up, I found Haylie surrounded by a mass of junk food: vacuum-sealed packs of beef jerky, a bag of barbeque chips, a container of cookies, and a veritable vat of chocolate.

"Chocolate makes everything better," Haylie said. "It's proven by science and Harry Potter alike."

I couldn't help laughing. "You're so strange, Haylie," I said, reaching over the expansive counter to shove her lightly. "Let's try to get this all into the living room."

It took two trips to finally get everything from the kitchen to the living room and another trip to make hot chocolate with marshmallows, but finally, I was curled up on one side of the couch, staring at Haylie on the opposite side, the journal in my lap. The hot chocolate warmed my hands and I couldn't help remembering the last time I had sat in this living room, drinking hot chocolate, when my mother was still here, a few hours from when I had first opened the box that would forever change my life. A twinge of pain swirled through my chest, but I ignored it. I had to if I was ever going to make any progress.

"Okay," I said. "So... I didn't actually get that far into the journal. I only got to the end of February 2010."

"Wow, what have you been doing with your time, Jackie? Twiddling your thumbs?"

I almost wanted to respond that this wasn't like going through my mother's old high school yearbook and making fun of all of the fashions, this was me discovering what my past was, what my father was like, and I wouldn't rush through it, but Haylie laughed. She put her hand over mine and smiled.

"Don't worry, I was joking."

I grinned back. "I knew that."

"So let's start from where you left off," Haylie said.

I nodded and turned to the entry at the very beginning of March. I decided to read the first couple of entries out loud, savoring the way my mother's words sounded on my tongue. She really was the typical teenager, irregardless of her job. She worried about her friends, her family, her job, but she had fun simultaneously. Much of her fun came from the time she spent with Chad, strangely enough.

The first important moment between my mother and father recorded in the diary was at Chad's birthday, when Sonny broke in to make things right with her best friend. Then came Sonny's first interview with Tween Weekly, which further solidified my mother's opinion that Chad wasn't as bad as he looked. He might even have started to like her, if their conversation was any indication.

And then... that "fake" date.

"They never really hated each other," Haylie remarked when I finished reading the entire entry, lingering over the description engrained in my brain: their first "date," even though it might have been fake. The way they seemed so happy together, even though they never would have admitted it. "They always liked each other."

"Of course they did," I whispered.

Haylie glanced at me and wordlessly took the journal from me. Good thing she did too, because I didn't think I could handle it. She read for a good hour, telling me about the incident with Dakota Condor, my parent's first dance together, their sojourn up to Lookout Mountain (their first one) and everything else. She told me everything.

My parents truly had the fairytale story. It was something one would expect from Hollywood: a silly romantic comedy that ended up with a happy ending, if their first date was any indicator. But I was the result of the aftermath. Once they got together, credits rolled and "they lived happily ever after" scrolled across the screen, but little did they know... little did anyone know that happily ever after was a myth.

Nothing but a myth.

My parents separated and their story was no longer that perfect fairytale.

But why did they separate? That was still a mystery and, as Haylie continued to read, my brain worked a thousand miles a minute.

More than anything, I wanted a clue as to why they separated. I knew how they got together. I knew that they had true feelings for each other, that they weren't just using each other for fame or something equally heinous. But why had they broken up? They seemed so happy in all of the journal entries I read.

There had to be something. The desire to know coursed through my veins, sent my heart racing inside my chest.

And I realized it all of a sudden.

I couldn't wait. I had waited long enough and clearly reading through the journal slowly wouldn't work. I didn't want to flip through it because I felt like it was an insult to Chad and Sonny's relationship, but... if my mother running away from New York City just because my father was here wasn't an insult to their relationship, if the dissolution of their relationship itself wasn't an insult to their very memory, then I wasn't sure what was.

"Here," I said. "Let me take that from you."

Haylie nodded and handed me back the journal. I flipped through it quickly, not even caring that I might be ripping the pages.

"What are you doing, Jackie?" Haylie asked. "I thought that you wanted to go from the beginning?"

I looked up for a minute, slowing my progress through the journal. She deserved an explanation, even though curiosity surged through my chest, almost overpowering in its intensity, and I just wanted to ignore her and know.

"I know," I said. "I know that I said that, but... I just can't wait. I know what my parents were like back then. They were in love. I want to know what changed. Why everything changed. And I can't wait hours. I need to know now."

To my shock and horror, I felt tears pricking at my eyes, but I blinked them back. "You understand, right, Haylie?"

"Of course I do," Haylie said. "Go ahead."

I smiled and continued my frenzied page-turning. Finally, I reached a date several weeks after my birth where my mother's handwriting was shaking. Wrinkles were present on the paper, almost as though she had been crying while she was writing. I ran my fingers along those wrinkles and began to read out loud.

Dear Diary,

I don't know what to do. I honestly don't. I am lost at sea without a paddle or even a life raft. I don't even have a life jacket at this point. I'm just floundering, trying to stay afloat through pure willpower, but I can't do it. Every time I think that I break the surface, fighting for survival, I get pulled back under.

Chad is trying. I know he is, but there's only so much that he can do. He wasn't the one who was there from day 1, feeling this... life inside me, not knowing what was going to happen. He didn't feel Jackie first kick. This isn't fair to him, I know it's not, because he did give up absolutely everything to be with me, but... I've done so much. I gave up my entire dream, felt my child in my stomach every day, not been able to sleep...

And now... everything's falling apart.

My money is frozen until I turn 18. My mother can access some money for me, so she's been sending me money, but there's only so much that my mother can take out of my account. Chad's parents froze his account entirely, withdrew his trust fund, so now he has nothing. He's trying to work and we're surviving on the little amount of money he managed to bring with him, but...

We're not working.

Nothing's working.

If this is what post-partum depression feels like, then I wonder how any mother gets through it. I feel like crying all the time. I have no idea what to do. Ever. And Chad is trying. Of course he's trying. He's trying harder than I expected, actually, but there's only so much that he can do. Only so much I can do.

When it comes to our relationship, it's like nothing I do is ever right. Even if it's just over getting diapers for Jackie, we end up devolving into an argument that makes us both retreat into the silent treatment for hours. Chad retreats into the bathroom—of all places—to watch old episodes of Mackenzie Falls on his laptop, and I stay in the nursery with the baby, trying to calm her down. She knows something's wrong: she cries all the time. She's never silent unless she's sleeping, and even then, she wakes up every two hours, without fail, and I don't think I've had more than one hour of consecutive sleep since I had her.

Something has to change—or else I don't know how Chad and I will work. We're both stretched endlessly thin and it's not going to work. Some of our stress has to give or we need to find a better way of handling our stress somehow.

Because I love Chad, but how can I be with him if I'm constantly... constantly...

Here, the words became blurred—a mixture of my own tears obscuring my vision and my mother's own tears staining the page.

"I—I guess I have my answer," I whispered.

"Jackie," Haylie said. "I—"

"I was the problem," I said. My throat burned. My heart pounded inside my chest and felt like it was going to tear in half—or worse, break into endlessly tiny pieces. "I was the reason why my parents broke up."

"You don't know that," Haylie said.

"But I do," I said. "I can prove it. Everything I need is in here, I bet."

"Not everything," Haylie suddenly said as I began flipping through the pages quickly. "Stop for a second."

I stopped flipping through the pages. "What?"

"Look down."

I did so, not noticing what Haylie was getting at for a moment, but then everything immediately jumped out at me: the dark scratches that went through some words and sentences and even paragraphs, rendering them utterly unreadable. The ink ran in some places, making everything illegible. It looked as though my mother had used the book not as a journal, but rather as a handkerchief to wipe her tears.

"Your mother was clearly going through a lot," Haylie said.

"That's an understatement of the year," I muttered. "But I—I can't shake my feeling. That it's all my fault. If I hadn't come along..."

"Your parents might've broken up anyway. You don't know what might have happened."

Haylie did have a point. If I hadn't come along, I don't know what might have happened to my mother and father. For all I knew, they could have been running into rough patches in that gray area I hadn't read about and they could have escalated even if Sonny hadn't gotten pregnant. They could have broken up down the road.

I had no way of knowing.

"Look, that's true," I said. "But I know what did happen. I've watched those shows on MTV, I know the strain a baby puts on a relationship—especially on a teenage relationship. With my parents... it was clearly too much for them. I was a contributing factor in their separation."

"Maybe, but—" Haylie stopped and visibly tried to gather her thoughts. "But we still don't know the whole story."

That was a statement that I could definitely agree with. It was clear that there was more under the surface of my mother's writing: it was predominantly emotionally driven. No true facts were ever revealed in that January entry I read, except their financial situation. In order to truly know what happened nearly sixteen years ago, I would need to get either my mother or father to crack.

And considering only one was in the country...

"We need Chad," I said.

"We better hope that John is willing to help us," Haylie said.

I felt tears still forming behind my eyes. I tried to blink them back, but one escaped anyway. More than anything... I needed to know the whole story. Because of me, it seemed, my mother had suffered. She felt like she was drowning because of me. She left my father because of me—or maybe my father left her, that was still fuzzy. I had no clue what happened and I needed to know.

If I didn't know—

And here came the tears.

"I think I need a hug," I choked out.

No more words were needed. Haylie simply wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me close to her. I abandoned the journal and let myself just let go—and cry.

I had never needed my father more.


"Are you ready for this?"

I smoothed back my hair from my face, tugging on an errant curl. School had just let out ten minutes ago and Haylie and I were on our way to the coffee shop around the corner. John had apparently skipped school today—he wasn't in Geometry or lording around the school during the lunch hour—but I hoped that he was still going to meet me. If he didn't, I'd have to wait another day, and to be honest, I might combust if I needed to wait any longer than I already had.

"I have to be," I finally answered Haylie.

"Ready for what?"

I just barely managed to stifle a groan.

It was Lilian.

It wasn't that I didn't think I could trust Lilian. It was just that I preferred talking to her about events less consequential than my first meeting with my father—or, for that matter, my first meeting with John Alto to talk about my first meeting with my father. I could trust Lilian with gossip, but with a secret this huge... it would be out in the open by tomorrow morning, no matter how hard Lilian tried to keep it quiet.

I tried to come up with an excuse on the spot—homework? Something?—but nothing came to mind.

"Um... ready to go exploring some thrift stores down in Brooklyn," Haylie said, coming to my rescue.

And I honestly felt like kissing Haylie right then and there.

Perfect excuse—and I mean perfect. Lilian might love going shopping, but if there was one place that she avoided like the plague, it was Brooklyn. Even after knowing her for years, I still wasn't sure why the very name struck her with pure terror, but right about now, I was mentally thanking the gods (if any were up there).

"Do you want to come with us?" Haylie offered, nudging me sharply in the ribs to keep me from bursting into laughter.

The look on Lilian's face!

"Um." Lilian glanced from side to side, almost as if she expected to find herself in Brooklyn at any moment. "Um, no, thanks. I'll pass." She tried to steer the conversation away from Brooklyn and shopping: the two things were mutually incompatible in her eyes. "So... when are we having your party? It's November!"

"In December, of course," I said. "The 6th."

"Okay," Lilian said. "It better be awesome. You're turning sixteen!"

"It will be," I promised.

"Great," Lilian said. "Anyway, I'd better get going. See you tomorrow?"

"Of course," I said.

"Bye!"

And there were no more words exchanged as Lilian turned and walked away, hailing a taxi with her taxi whistle (apparently she'd gotten it from one of her boyfriends a couple of months ago). Haylie and I tried to stifle our giggles until we were out of hearing from Lilian, but we didn't quite manage it. We ducked behind a trash can so that Lilian wouldn't know it was us if she turned around.

"Did—you—see—her—face?" I breathed.

"Priceless!" Haylie said.

Our interaction with Lilian turned out to be a great distraction for the conversation ahead of me. I found that we were in front of the tiny cafe—Cafe au Lait—before I knew it, standing in front of the closed door.

"Am I coming in with you?" Haylie asked.

"I think so," Jackie responded. "I don't think that I can do this by myself. Besides, you've been here for the entire thing. I'm not going to kick you out now when we're finally making some progress."

"Good. Because if you didn't agree, I would have to force myself in anyway."

I laughed. "Yet another reason why you're coming with me."

I stared at the door for another second—here goes—and then grabbed Haylie's hand and pushed my way into the coffee shop. It was quiet and dark inside the shop, smelling of coffee beans and chocolate, along with some sort of pastry that was probably delectable. All of the tables were circular, seating about four people, and were spread out haphazardly throughout the darkened shop. A door at the very back led to the conjoined bookshop that I had spent many hours in when I was younger. I inhaled deeply, let out a breath, and I immediately felt calmer. Something about coffee shops did that to me.

"Come on," I said. "Let's find John."

I led Haylie deeper into the maze of tables, making a beeline to the back of the room. Sure enough, John was sitting in the table nearest the back of the room, so close to the wall that he could lean his head against it, with his feet lazily perched on the top of the table. I pushed them off before sitting down next to Haylie.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey," John drawled. "What's up, gorgeous?"

I rolled my eyes. "This little arrangement is only going to work if you're not a complete pig, John."

"I guess this arrangement isn't going to work then," John said easily. He glanced in Haylie's direction. "What's she doing here? I don't object, but I was under the impression that it would just be me and you. Alone."

"Sorry to disappoint," I said. "I decided to bring backup."

"You need backup. Interesting." He tilted his chair up on its back legs. "So what's going on? Why'd you ask me here?"

"I told you last night," I snapped. "I need to meet someone."

"Better talk nicer to me if you want anything from me."

Oh, honestly. I hadn't even been talking to John for a full five minutes yet and he already made me want to throw my hands up in the air and scream. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, let the breath out, and opened my eyes once again.

"Okay," I said. "All right. I'll be nice if you will. Deal?"

"Sure."

John extended his hand across the table. I gave him a look (seriously, John? Seriously? A handshake?), but he just kept it there, raising his eyebrows (seriously. Shake it or no deal). I let out a heavy sigh (fine) and reached across, grasping John's hand, warm and dry and almost comforting, if I forgot who John was and what he would probably make me do in exchange for this favor. I shook his hand briefly and then took my hand away as quickly as John would let me.

"I need you to introduce me to someone," I said, wasting no time.

"And will you tell me who this person is?"

"Chad Dylan Cooper," I said.

John blinked. "Chad Dylan Cooper? Why do you need to meet him?"

That was the question I was afraid he was going to ask. I figured he would, but still. I didn't have a good reason other than the truth—which was something I was hesitant to share with him.

"I just need to meet him," I said. "I told you that if you did this for me, I'd do whatever you wanted in return. Are you going back on your word now?"

"Of course not," John said. "I never refuse a lady."

"That's definitely true," I muttered. "Unfortunately."

John carried on without seeming to hear my remark. "But I can't just let you meet Chad Dylan Cooper. My father wouldn't approve if he ever found out and sadly, the one thing he never lets me get away with is ruining a business offer. So I have to receive a good reason to go back on my father's wishes."

I rolled my eyes.

What. An. Ass.

"Fine," I said. "But if I tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone, all right?"

"Sure," John responded. "Should we pinky promise?"

"Shut up." Haylie spoke up for the first time, her voice harsh and cold. "Jackie's not kidding. You can't tell anyone what she's about to say. This is so important and if you screw it up, I swear to God that I will do whatever I can do to ruin your life."

"Go ahead and try," John said.

"Just leave it," I said to Haylie. "He's obviously not going to stop being an ass."

"Too true."

I sighed, took a deep breath, and let it out. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately: something about being with John just made me feel the need to calm myself down before doing something that I might regret.

"So what is this huge secret?" he asked.

"Chad Dylan Cooper... he's—" I paused. "He's my father."

Contrary to my expectations, John didn't seem shocked in the slightest. He just nodded, surveying me for a couple of minutes. I shifted in my seat, increasingly uncomfortable, as his eyes bored into my own.

"Why now?" he asked. "Why do you want to meet him now?"

"Because I know he's here. In New York. Working for your dad," I said. At least I wasn't telling him the whole truth: just bits and pieces of the story. I figured I could trust him with the minimum details, even though I wouldn't tell him anything more than I had. "I just discovered who my father was a few weeks ago and I—I want to know why my parents separated. Is that too much to ask?"

"Possibly," John said. "I'll try to arrange something."

Haylie and I exchanged a look. Neither of us expected that John would agree so easily, which meant that he had something under his sleeve. Something that I would not as readily agree to.

"What's the catch?" I said. Better to get it over with than to wait for the other shoe to drop.

"Come to my party this Friday," John said.

"That's it?"

"And pretend to be my date."

I didn't even hesitate in nodding my head. Even though the absolute last thing I wanted to do was go on a date with John Alto, it was better than what I had been imagining. And if it meant that I would meet my father... I would do anything.

"Good," John said. "My mother and father will be there—it's one of those fancy parties that I must go to in order to present a good face—but there will be an awesome after party." He smiled. "I'll try to get you in to meet your father during the party."

"It will be that easy?" Haylie asked. "She just has to go on a date with you and you'll introduce her to her father?"

"Sure," John said. Once again, Haylie and I exchanged looks. "For now."

Of course. And here came the other shoe.

"I will let you meet your father for a date," he said, "but it doesn't seem like an equal trade. So be prepared to be called upon for any of the particular sophisticated functions that I get roped into attending." He grinned. "Better get stocked up on fancy dresses."

"So I'll be your date... indefinitely?"

"Yep."

Shit.

I should have figured that his part of the deal would be something like that. It wasn't as bad as I figured, but I couldn't exactly say that I was looking forward to being paraded around on John's arms like some sort of trophy wife. At least he didn't make me his girlfriend—that was the only bright spot. That, and the fact that doing this would allow me to meet my father.

"All right. You've got yourself a deal," I said.

Once again, we shook on it, but John didn't let my hand go so easily. His hand lingered over mine for a few seconds. I felt strangely warm for a couple of seconds, but then I shook myself out of it and withdrew my hand.

I tried to smile.

"So what color is your tie?"

John smiled and went into a spiel about the details of the night: where it would be, what I was expected to wear, what he was wearing, all of those monotonous details that I needed to know but didn't really care about. I felt my phone vibrate inside my pocket and pulled it out, glancing at Haylie as I did so.

Are you sure about this?

I inclined my head. It's not as bad as I thought it would be. Besides, I'd do anything if it meant I could meet my dad. Anything.


Author's Note: Well, there you are. Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please review?