Sorry this is late! As an apology, and because I'm currently working on the epilogue so this is almost completely pre-written, I'll post again tomorrow or the day after once I've gotten to all the edits.

Caught In A Riptide

Chapter Seventeen

Arlo

"Cullen! Over here, now!"

Shit.

Chest heaving, sweat sticking my shirt to my chest, I scrape my damp hair out of my face and knot it on top of my head. My hair is just long enough to be annoying now, which is a blessing and a curse on a hot-as-hell day like today.

"I'm sorry, Coach. I don't know what's wrong with me."

Coach Clapp growls at me to sit and take five before marching back onto the field. "Newton, Carter, what the hell was that? Did you forget how to put your left foot in front of your right, huh?"

Smirking as I reach for the water bottles, downing half of one between big breaths, I watch Coach stop by the goal to high five Watson for another clean sheet. Sure, it fucking sucks that Coach is gonna be up my ass for my failure to score a single goal in two practices, but it's almost worth it to see the proud grin on Watson's face. He looks around, holding up two thumbs when he spots me.

He's worked really hard the last few weeks, particularly the last seven days, but that's mostly my fault. I've been so busy trying to keep my mind off Lakely, I've basically forced him to spend every last second at the field with me.

He bitched for the first couple of days but I bet he's grateful for it now.

Tomorrow, we're officially starting the season against the Seminoles.

Tomorrow also marks a whole week of knowing that Lakely is pregnant.

I just fucking wish she'd talk to me.

"Cullen! Get over here and act like you know what the hell you're doing!"

"Yes, Coach!"

Jumping back up, I force myself to try and focus on my teammates and our common goal—scoring goals.

I know I've sucked this week. Coach isn't the only one who's mentioned it. We're all getting amped up, preparing to kick Seminole butt, but I can barely keep my head in the game long enough to get the ball anywhere near the net, let alone in it.

And here's another stunning example…

Too busy wondering how much longer Lakely's going to reply to all my messages with 'I'm not ready,' I wince as the ball sails way north of the goal. Watson hisses his sympathy, watching it fly over his head without even stretching for it. We both know it was nowhere near.

"For the love—Cullen! Get your ass off the field and hit the showers! You're done!"

Raking a hand through my hair, I hang my head as I jog off the field toward the locker rooms. I'm alone, my teammates probably taking the brunt of Coach's frustration while I shower and pull on some shorts and a tee. Shaking my hair so water droplets fly everywhere, I decide it'll probably be dry by the time I get home if I drive with the roof down, hauling my backpack over my shoulder as I trudge out to the Jeep.

"Arlo, wait up!"

My head pops up, Charlotte waving at me from across the parking lot. She's with a bunch of the other cheerleaders; their practice finished a little early today since their captain is nursing a sore ankle. Pointing toward the Jeep to wordlessly offer her a ride home, I nod when she holds up two fingers to tell me she'll be two minutes.

Hopping in, I throw my bag into the back and stare out of the windshield at the sky while I wait for Charlotte.

When my cell pings after a few minutes, I rush to grab it in case it's Lakely.

I'm picking the R twins up today so you can hang with your buddies before the big game tomorrow. Love you millions, kiddo xoxoxo - Mom

Snorting at the gajillion 'hugs and kisses' she always signs off with, I let my head fall back against the headrest and my cell drop into my lap.

It's tempting to try calling Lakely again, except I'm not sure I could take another abrupt hang-up. It's pretty obvious it's not switched off or just ringing out since it cuts off after a different amount of rings each time.

Twisting my cell around in my hands, I remind myself that she'll reach out when she's ready, plastering a smile on my face for Charlotte when she finally climbs in beside me.

"Sorry, couldn't get away. You sure you don't mind giving me a ride home? My car's in the shop."

"Naw, it's cool. You're on the way home anyway." Smirking, I fish my keys out of my pocket and start the engine. "And, again?" I tease as we roll out of the lot. My heart is telling me to head right, toward Lakely's. I turn left instead. "What's that, the fifth time this year?"

I can practically hear the eye roll in Charlotte's voice. "I'll have you know it was a total accident, actually."

"Oh, yeah? The streetlight just jumped out at you, did it?"

"You rat bastard!" she squeals, reaching over to sock me in the arm when I crack up. "You know?"

"Demetri called me right after he got home," I admit, still laughing. "If it helps, he said you did try to avoid the streetlight."

"You're a dick," she decides huffily, and as we drive past the bakery and my thoughts shift to Lakely again, I actually agree with her. "So, have you seen her?" Charlotte asks softly.

My stomach knots. "She's still hangin' up on me."

The flash of sympathy in her face makes me feel like shit—not because I hate sympathy, even though I do, but because it makes it obvious that Lakely isn't hanging up on her.

I also realize...

"She told you it's mine."

Charlotte nods; I see it in the corner of my eye. "I haven't wanted to say anything, but yeah. Heidi knows, too, just so you know."

Swallowing hard, I try to think back over all the interactions I've had with the girls this week. I haven't seen much of them, really, too busy with practice.

"Shit. The guys?"

"Are as oblivious as ever," she admits with a humorless laugh. Reaching over, she squeezes my shoulder. "If my opinion means anything, I think you guys will be fine, you just need to get your heads around it all and figure out what you're gonna do."

"Yeah," I whisper, throat thick with the tears that seem to appear whenever I think too hard about the situation we've gotten ourselves into, and how. "Did she explain—"

"How it happened? Yeah. I mean, Heidi figured it out the next morning. It was pretty obvious something had happened. You two were tight as anything and then all of a sudden, you just weren't talking. When you made nice at the soccer game we guessed it was just a blip, and then the party and…"

Vicky. Fucking Vicky.

"She's still blowing up my cell," I admit sheepishly. "I don't get why though. I've told her, it's never gonna happen."

Even if she weren't showing her true, bunny-boiler colors with an endless stream of calls and messages at all hours of the night, after she took advantage of my state at that party in Miami and gave me drugs knowing how I feel about them, I'd never get back with her.

Charlotte snorts. "Because she's crazy and I guess most girls think you're a catch." She smirks over at me as we pull up outside her house. "Lucky for you, I don't think so. You're like the stinky, annoying brother I never wanted."

I bark a laugh and nod. "Yeah, I guess."

"All right, I'd better get in. Thanks for the ride home, Arlo."

"No probs, Char. See you tomorrow."

As she climbs out, she pauses to lean on the door since the window is down. "Lakely will come around, you know?"

The ball of nerves drops back into my gut, the momentary distraction ending with a bang.

"I hope so." With an ache in my jaw and a suspicious burn at the back of my eyes, I admit, "I miss her."

Hoisting her bag up onto her shoulder, she nods and sighs. "She misses you, too. Just...give her time, okay? There's more to all this than you realize."

Charlotte is off, walking up the path to her house before I make sense of her words. Frowning, I yell after her, grumbling a curse when she just calls back that it's not her secret to tell before she disappears inside.

"Fuckin' girl code, man," I huff, peeling away to head for home.

~ oOo ~

A house with six nine-year-olds in it is never going to be all that quiet or peaceful. Not unless they're all sleeping, anyway.

So when I get home and I can already hear their screams and laughter from the driveway, I'm not even a little bit surprised.

Heading around the back, I find all of the sixers in the pool along with Dad, Uncle Emmett and my little cousin Violet who's a year younger than the sixers, and Uncle Sullivan with his girls. August is over on a lounger with Mom, and Aunt Rosalie is bringing two big pitchers of lemonade outside.

"Lemme take those," I offer, flashing her a grin when she tells me my momma raised me right.

"And his dad!" Dad protests with a wink, tossing Rylee over his shoulder. She hits the water with a scream and a splash, cackling when she pops up seconds later.

As soon as I put the lemonade down, the kids flock to get it, wet feet slapping the deck, bright smiles reflecting just how carefree they are.

"How's it goin', kid?" Uncle Sullivan asks, squeezing my shoulder when I drop into the foot of Mom's lounger; she's sitting cross-legged with August in her lap, but he abandons her to go get some lemonade.

Unease slithers through me. He wouldn't tell Mom and Dad...would he?

I feel dumb when he arches his brows at me, like he knows what I was thinking and wants to call me an idiot for letting the thought cross my mind.

Relaxing a little, I nod. "I'm good."

"Ready for the big game tomorrow? I've booked a sitter for the two littles so I can bring Days to watch."

I can feel all the adults looking at me as I admit, "I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

I wish I could say that I'm fully focused, but it would be a big, fat lie. Of course beating the Seminoles would be the best start to the season, but right now, all I can think about is Lakely and…

The baby.

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I snag Oakley's lemonade as he strolls past me and chug most of it. He rolls his eyes and laughs when I hand it back almost empty.

"Now I gotta get more!"

Ruffling his hair, Aunt Rosalie pours the last of one pitcher into his glass. "Here you go, dude."

"Thanks." Spotting our brothers heading back to the pool, Uncle Emmett staying on lifeguard duty, Oakley runs along with them and our cousins. Rylee hangs back with us and August though, draping herself over my back.

"Will you play soccer with me?" she whispers loudly in my ear, huffing when I admit I'm beat from practice. "You've been at practice all the time. What gives?"

"What gives?" I snort, amused as she clambers round to sit on the lounger next to me. "What gives is that I've got a huge game tomorrow and I need to look good and play great."

Bored of me, Rylee rolls her eyes and hops up to join the other kids in the water. "You're always great, Lo."

"I'm gweat!" August yells, jumping into my lap before I can preen too much. "Right, Lo?"

"Right, little guy," I laugh, booping his nose as he squirms around to get comfy.

For the rest of the afternoon, I have a little shadow following me around. The sixers like me enough, I guess, but they're old enough to want to do their own thing most of the time now. August, though, he loves me.

"Go, go, go!" he screeches right in my ear, short nails digging into my shoulders as I race Sullivan with June on his back.

Sputtering a laugh as water splashes into my mouth, I slam my hand on the edge of the pool just a second before my uncle. August cheers and screams, flopping off my back into the water. I catch him before he can float away and toss him in the air.

"We won, Oggy!"

Uncle Sullivan shakes his head as June tells him she wants to be on my team next time. "Traitors," he huffs, lifting her out of the water so she can go join the other kids playing tag on the grass. August wants to stay with us, but Uncle Sullivan bribes him to go too, offering me a rueful grin once we're alone in the pool. "He's a parrot," he explains. "I need to talk to you, but I couldn't do it with that little terror here."

"Ah, gotcha." Worry drops into my gut as I look around, trying to spot all the adults. If what he wants to talk to me about is what I think it is, I don't want my parents or my aunt and uncle overhearing. Or any of the sixers, for that matter. They're just as bad as August—always ratting me out. Thankfully, we're alone. Mom and Aunt Rosalie are supervising all the kids, Uncle Emmett is firing up the grill, and Dad is...somewhere, but not out here. That's good enough for me.

Trying to look casual, I tip myself backwards and stare up at the sky.

"Have you spoken to her yet?"

"No," I admit, swallowing hard. "I mean, not really. She won't take my calls or texts and she's skipped school every day this week." My stomach rolls as I replay all the shitty things some of the kids at school have been saying about her. News travels fast in high school, especially a small one like ours. Whispers of Lakely's pregnancy started spreading at that party.

Those whispers are shouts now.

I've missed her at school, but it beats her having to hear the names she's been called and the rumors people are spreading.

"I tried to go see her but her car is never there when I drive by her house. I figured her parents might have found out and taken the car away, but even when I knock, her parents just say she's not home and shut the door in my face."

Which is...kind of weird. Unless they know this is my fault, then it's not so weird, but their reactions still don't make sense. They don't seem mad at me, even when they shut the door on me. They just seem...mad.

Realizing Uncle Sullivan has gone quiet, I turn my head a little to face him. He's frowning hard and shaking his head.

"I'd avoid her parents for now, man."

It's not what he says that sends a shiver up my spine, it's the way he says it. His tone, or the look on his face, maybe. I can't put my finger on it but as I stare at him and his expression shifts until he starts to look a little guilty, I realize…

"You know something, don't you? Fuck, of course you do. You live right next door." Flipping over so we're face-to-face, I stifle the urge to yell at him. "What's going on? Do you know where she's going all day so she's never there when I go over?"

I watch his Adam's apple bob and he's starting to say something when Dad clears his throat from the edge of the pool. Both our heads snap around to him, and cold fear slides through my veins when I see the look on his face.

It's not aimed at me, though.

"Sully...do you have any idea why I just got a call from Garrett asking why Lakely is staying in the apartment above Burger Co.? Apparently, she's saying you told her she could and gave her the keys."

What. The. Fuck?

~ oOo ~

After kind of loudly telling my uncle he needs to tell me what the hell is going on, Dad decides we'd better take the discussion inside. Leaving Uncle Emmett and Aunt Rosalie watching the kids, I follow Mom, Dad, and Uncle Sullivan to the breakfast bar.

I'm too keyed up to sit, feeling instantly guilty when I snap at Mom for wrapping a towel around my shoulders. "Sorry," I mumble, raking a hand through my wet hair, not giving a shit about the puddle growing around my feet.

Dad eyes me curiously before turning his attention to his brother. "All right, I think you'd better explain a couple things."

Uncle Sullivan rolls his eyes and if it weren't for the betrayal pumping through me right now, I'd probably laugh at how ridiculous this situation looks.

"Look, you need to remember that she asked me not to say anything, aight? I wasn't thrilled about it, but the girl's seventeen and she needed a place to crash."

"What? Why?" Mom looks confused as fuck, her eyes bouncing around between the three of us. When they land on me, she frowns. "Arlo, what's going on with Lakely? Why isn't she staying at home?"

"I didn't...um, I didn't know she wasn't at home," I stammer, sweat beading at my temples. When Dad called her in here, it didn't hit me right away that this conversation would only end one way—with my parents in the know.

"Maybe you should sit down, Bella?" Uncle Sullivan suggests carefully, his smile half-hearted at best.

I can feel Mom getting more worried than curious. She's tense as she shakes off my uncle's hand on her shoulder and straightens up. "Maybe you should fill us in, Sullivan. What the hell is going on?"

"Oh, God…" I croak, palming my churning stomach. When I look up, Mom, Dad, and Uncle Sullivan are all watching me, each of their expressions different.

Mom looks nervous. Dad's gone blank—it's his 'I'm waiting' face. And Uncle Sullivan…

"They need to know, kid."

I want to shuck his hand off my shoulder the way Mom just did, but as angry at him as I am, as betrayed as I feel that he knew where she was this whole time and didn't tell me...he's the only ally I have right now.

"Need to know what?" Mom whispers, like she's just realized the gravity of this secret I've—we've—been keeping, even though she doesn't know what it is yet.

Swallowing around the lump in my throat and trying to breathe through the weight crushing my chest, I suck in a big breath and blow it out slowly. I can't bring myself to look at my parents when I say the words that will shatter every ounce of the trust and respect they've given me. Instead, I stare at a picture taped to the fridge of our family visiting England with Nanny Jude and Granddad Dale last year.

"Lakely'spregnantandit'smine."

The words spill out of me in a rush, so fast that I can tell Mom and Dad have no idea what I just said.

My eyes burn and my jaw aches as I force them out again, slower this time. "Mom, Dad...Lakely's pregnant, and it's...it's mine."

I guess thinking about how my parents might take the news was probably something I should have done before dropping the bombshell on them.

"I know you're gonna be really mad and want to yell all kinds of stuff, but I've been trying to find Lakely all week since I found out and I really just want to go see her, so can the yelling wait for a couple hours?"

Crickets.

No, seriously.

"Look, Momma! We found two crickets!"

The damn insects make a bunch of noise as River runs into the kitchen with them in his hand, a bunch of the other kids behind him clamoring for their turn with 'the bugs.'

"Kids, I don't think we should be bringing those in here!" Uncle Emmett booms from the doorway, mouthing an apology to Dad who manages a faint, distracted smile. "Come on, outside."

The kids disappear again and I'm not the only one relying on something else to keep me upright. While I lean back against the kitchen counter, Mom slides onto a stool at the breakfast bar, her face white and eyes wide as she stares at me. It's like she's looking at a ghost.

"I don't…" she licks her lips and then pulls the bottom one between her teeth. "Lakely, as in our Lakely?"

It warms me to hear her still calling Lakely ours.

"Yeah," I breathe. "I'm sorry, I know this is shitty and it's not what you expected, like, at all."

Dad shifts toward me and I hang my head, waiting for him to tell me what a fuck-up I am and how ashamed of me he is.

I'm stunned fucking dumb when he wraps his arms around my shoulders and presses a kiss against the side of my head. His body shakes with a big sigh, but when he pulls back and I force myself to look at his face, I don't see disappointment or anger or shame.

I see the same man who's been stepping up for me since I was four years old.

Until he reaches up to brush my cheek with his fingertips, I don't even know that I'm crying.

"I'm sorry," I croak.

His eyes are always brighter green when he's sad or mad. I don't know which one he is right now but he doesn't look either of them, really.

"I know, bud."

I'm plucked out of Dad's arms only to be wrapped in Mom's. She's a short little shit, the top of her head barely reaching my chin, but she reaches up to hold my face in her small hands and I feel like I'm four years old all over again.

"You've known about this for a week, you said?" she murmurs.

Nodding, I clear my throat. "Since last Friday, yeah. She, uh, she got into a fight with Vicky, and Tyler dropped the bomb...by accident, I think."

"Wait…" Dad pulls a hand through his hair and leans against the counter beside me, and Uncle Sullivan excuses himself to go see why his daughters are screeching for him. "Roll it back there, buddy. We need a few more details than that."

"Why don't we sit down?" Mom suggests, so that's what we do. We fall onto chairs at the dining table and I tell them everything.

About the party.

About Vicky.

About the drugs.

"Oh, Arlo—"

"Let him finish, hon," Dad says gently, squeezing her hand.

She falls silent even though I know it's killing her, so I continue.

"I don't remember that night." The admission burns on the way out. Shame and regret almost close my throat, but I force out, "Lakely does, though. We, uh...you know...and now she's pregnant. At the party the other night, she got into a fight with Vicky, and when Tyler pulled Lakely off her, he spilled the beans."

I don't admit how much it fucking guts me that she told him before me, but that's just one of a whole bunch of questions I want to ask Lakely when she quits shutting me out.

A few seconds pass, then Mom gasps, her trembling free hand covering her mouth as tears gather on her lashes. "That was in June. It's August now. She must be...she's…"

"Almost three months pregnant," Dad sighs, shaking his head. I recognize the look on his face now.

"I don't really believe it, either."

Dad huffs a humorless laugh and eyes me. "What I don't understand is why she's hiding above Burger Co."

My stomach knots. "I don't, either."

"I think I can clear a few things up," Uncle Sullivan says, reappearing in the doorway. My eyes follow him as he rounds the table, dropping into the seat opposite me. He doesn't look at Mom or Dad as he tells me about seeing Lakely pull up outside Burger Co. with tears streaming over her face and her bags on the backseat. "I couldn't let her go anywhere like that, and then when she said her parents kicked her out, I wasn't exactly just gonna let her sleep in her car."

"Her parents...kicked her out?"

Mom is already shaking her head when Sullivan grunts, "Uh-huh."

"No, they wouldn't do that."

Sullivan raises his eyebrows at Mom. "Hey, I'm just tellin' you what she told me."

"Can we go back to Lakely, please? You knew she was at Burger Co. the whole time?" Mom obviously wants to talk more about how her friends apparently kicked out their kid, but she can do that later. I need to know that Lakely's okay first.

"Look, kid, she asked me to make a promise. I made it, and I kept it. I gave her a week and when that week ended, I was going to tell you where to find her. She's okay, though. Or, as okay as she can be in this situation, I guess. I've made sure she has food in the fridge and stuff," Uncle Sullivan says, squeezing my shoulder.

"I need to go see her," I decide, standing so quickly the legs of the chair scrape the floor.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Uncle Sullivan murmurs. "You said she's been dodging you. Don't push yourself on her before she's ready."

"Hey, I'm not—"

"You're not going to see her today, Arlo," Mom interrupts.

"Why not? I need to make sure she's okay."

"You're not going, because I am."

I can tell from her tone that there's no arguing with her, but just to make totally sure, I flash the puppy dog eyes.

"No, Arlo. You're staying here. If what Sully just said is true and she doesn't want to talk to you right now, you're going to honor her wishes. I'll just take some food over and make sure she's all right, then come right back."

Frustrated, I run my hand through my damp hair and decide I can go for a run later. Mom and Dad don't have to know where that run takes me and it's not an out-of-the-ordinary thing for me to do.

Striding away from my parents and uncle, I aim for the stairs and map my route from here to—

"You're not leaving this house tonight, Arlo Maxwell Cullen." Mom's voice travels. My foot hits the chill-out spot up on the open landing just as her words kick the wind from my sails. My shoulders slump and grim resignation takes hold. "You've got school tomorrow and a big game. If Lakely comes to see you there, you can talk then. If not, you'll give her the time your uncle promised and we'll go from there."

The slam of my bedroom door isn't nearly as satisfying as I thought it would be.

~ oOo ~

"Knock, knock."

"Come in."

I don't move as the door swings open. Staring up at the ceiling, I count the tiny silver stars Lakely helped me paint when we were thirteen and I went through my astrology phase.

The bed shifts and I grunt when Dad squeezes my knee. "You missed dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

He hums, then sits there in silence until I can't take it anymore. "What's up?"

"Do you remember the first time you met me?"

Frowning, I lift up and lean on my arm. "Yeah, sorta. Why?"

He's staring at a blank wall, lost in thought with a nostalgic smile on his face. "You were wearing a shirt with 'Chick Magnet' on it."

"I remember."

"You always used to wear those funny shirts. You don't do that so much anymore."

"Uh, as nice as it is reminiscing...what's this all about?"

For the first time since he came in here, since he found out that I knocked up my best friend, he looks me in the eye and smiles. Like, properly smiles.

"That was one of the best days of my life and I didn't even know it yet, Arlo. I had no idea that meeting you, Jax, and Finn was going to be so life-changing. I got the three sons I'd been wishing for that day."

"Someone had a couple beers with dinner," I grumble half-heartedly, sort of teasing, sort of not. I love and hate it when Dad gets all mushy. I guess I shouldn't be surprised today's clusterfuck of revelations has brought out his soft side.

Chuckling, he shuffles back until he's leaning against the window my bed is pushed up against, my legs pulled up out of his way. "Or a few. It's not every day you find out your baby is havin' a baby, buddy."

Suddenly choked up, I flop back and sigh. "Is it weird that I'm kinda...numb...about it all?"

"Not at all. I think it's probably pretty normal. Hell, when we found out your mom was pregnant with the sixers, I spent maybe a whole week feeling pretty numb, and I wasn't seventeen and having a baby."

"Seventeen and having a baby…" I breathe, tears stinging my eyes. "What the fuck am I gonna do with a baby?"

Dad snorts, nudging my leg with his. "Hopefully feed it, change it...you know, all the fun stuff."

"This isn't funny." Cocking an eyebrow at him, I wonder, "Aren't you supposed to be all...I don't know... mad? You know, yell at me, tell me what a disappointment I am, how I've ruined my life?"

The amusement drains out of Dad's face as he sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "I'm feelin' a lot of things right now, buddy. Disappointment sure isn't one of them. And as for ruining your life...I didn't feel like that about you, Jax, and Finn—or the sixers—and you won't feel that way about your baby, either. You're too much like me."

The feeling of relief taking place of at least some of my fears is heady. Swallowing hard, I shuffle around and sit up beside him.

"You're not gonna lecture me?"

"Oh, I didn't say that," he laughs, reaching over to pull me into his side. "You can expect a bunch of lectures in the next few months, I reckon. From me and Mom. But right now, we both just want to make sure you're all right. You and Lakely."

Mom came to see me after she saw Lakely. She took her some leftovers from the freezer and money for prenatals and whatever else she might need, then promised to be around if she wants to talk before coming home again. I'm partly relieved she didn't bombard Lakely with questions and partly frustrated that she didn't ask all the questions I desperately want answers to.

I mean, she also forced me to have 'the talk' with her—condoms, whether it was my first time or I've been 'sleeping around,' all the stuff no son ever wants to discuss with their mom. But I get it. She and Dad are being super supportive so far, but I know they've got concerns and questions.

"I'm scared, Dad."

"I know, buddy. I know. But look, this is how we're gonna play this." Draping his arm around my shoulders, he squeezes me tight. "You're gonna give Lakely space—"

"Dad, I can't—"

"Listen. You're gonna give Lakely the space she needs, and you're gonna play your ass off tomorrow. Once you've kicked Seminole butt, we'll see about talking to Lakely and her parents, okay? We'll get this all figured out."

Chewing my lip, I let myself be comforted by my dad. It's not cool to be seventeen and want your parents to hug you, but right now, I don't want to feel seventeen. I want to be a little kid whose parents can fix everything for me. I don't want to deal with big decisions and the terrifying reality that I co-created a whole other human that I'll be partly responsible for in roughly six months.

For now, I just want to be Arlo. The funny kid who used to wear dumb t-shirts and crawl into his dad's arms whenever he got scared or sad.

"Okay," I whisper.

So, the secret is out *eeep*

Did Bella and Edward react how you expected? And what do you think Arlo's going to do now?

See you tomorrow for a bonus chapter! xo