Leaving Tulsa was the hardest thing I had ever had to do. Behind I left my only real friends, the possible love of my life, and the father of my child. Yes you heard me right, the father of my child.

Most feel sorry for me then berate me with speeches about teenage pregnancy and delinquency. My mom has been even more of a wreck now that I'm expecting in two months and my grandmother is doing worse than ever. She has cancer and is probably the only one who understands me.

My grandmother is a born and raised liberal. She grew up in the twenties and never really grew out of the wild times she had then. She lived with the rich in New York and grew up around parties and flappers, and became one herself. Though she never was pregnant before she married, she certainly did have a bunch of beaux! They are the most fun to hear about when I sit with her during the days.

She lives at our large beach house now and refuses to go back to the hospital. She knows she is dying and doesn't want doctors poking and prodding her to tell her that time and time again. So she retired here with a personal nurse who gives her painkillers and sponge baths when she needs them.

I mostly spend the days with her out on the veranda or up in her room in the sundeck that is adjoining it. She is the one who funds this house and is leaving it to me. It says so in her will.

And still, as she grows more gaunt and frail, her sense of humor remains, and it brightens even the most stormy of days.

Most would say life here was good. Living on the beach and in a tourist trap often attracts others to this small beach town, but it's dismal. It's been months since I have heard from anyone, and when I try to call, it seems like there is something that they are keeping from me. I really don't know what to expect from them and it leaves me heartbroken. Every time I ask for Dally, there is always some excuse for why he can't talk. I know that nothing is wrong, but when I can't sleep at night, these thoughts always come into my head and I see the most outrageous things. I swear that my imagination is going crazy in my head. Probably has something to do with the hormones going nuts in my body.

And here starts a new day. I lie in my bed and count the cracks in the ceiling, not wanting to get up in any way, shape or form. I know that the day will be boring and the same it is every day. Nick will disappear to go surfing until 12 when he will come back to eat, then disappear to surf more, then shower and go to some crazy shore party somewhere. Mom will be with dad or at home, cleaning and cooking like a good little house wife, and I will be at home with grandma, reading and writing my newest story. This time it is one about a elfin spy during a war being captured (a/n: which I am actually working on with a friend!! It's on fictionpress somewhere…0.o). It's a complete fluff story with dry humor.

I wait for mom to start yelling before I pull myself out of the bed and get dressed into my sweatpants and a big shirt. I smile as I pull my hair up. It is rather stingy…especially when in the morning. I usually shower somewhere during the day before I go out in public or on the porch. The morning is spent inside...not really doing anything.

I ambled down the stairs, balancing with a gracefulness I had learned slowly as I grew larger. I heard some voices from the living room, so I avoid it and head straight for the kitchen, figuring it is Nick and his surfer friends. They all seem to be nice enough, but I don't want friends here. I am heading out after the end of the next school year, most of which I will be studying at home because I will raise my child. I won't have my parents do it.

The school, of course sent me to a counselor as soon as I got here and she advised me to give her up, have my mother or a hired nurse raise her, or even try this thing called an abortion. She explained it as taking chemicals which will pass the 'fetus' prematurely. She used fluffy words to go through the process with me. I laughed sarcastically and said, "So basically you want me to take a pill so I can flush my child down a toilet?" She wasn't too happy about me using morals.

I call the baby a 'her' because she is not an 'it' and I don't know what gender she really is, so she is a girl for now.

Anyway, I went into the kitchen and pulled out the juice and poured it into a glass. Sipping it, I heard my mom call me in from the other room.

I sighed and set the glass down, rolling my eyes. "Coming mom," I said and 'waddled' my way into the other room.

I nearly passed out when I saw who the people were that were sitting in my living room.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?!?!"

and that is that. I guess you guys know who is there. Duh!! Lol. Uhm I am going on vacation for about a month so I should have a lot to post when I get home!! Maybe…depends on how many times I ride the PotC ride… lol

R&R