"Of course it's your father." Everyone in the kitchen could hear the man's voice over the phone. "Get your ass home now." Brooke stared at her phone as her father hung up.

"I have to go." Brooke said quietly.

"Do you want us to come?" Peyton asked as Brooke ran franticly around Jake's apartment.

"No!" Brooke exclaimed, angry tears in her eyes. "I- I have to go." She grabbed her jacket off the couch, where she had dropped it earlier.

"I'm coming." Jake said grabbing his coat and following his girlfriend out the door.

"We'll just watch Jenny!" Peyton yelled after the two figures. She saw Jake wave in acknowledgement before he disappeared from her view completely.

"Go back in there." Brooke shouted at Jake as she fumbled with her car keys.

"Brooke-"

"No, you can't come!"

"Brooke!"

She turned to him, tears in her eyes. "They screw up everything. If they see you everything will be ruined..."

"Brooke." Jake said again, pulling the hysterical girl into his arms. "They're not going to ruin anything. I love you-"

Brooke pulled out of his arms and stared him in the eye. "You what? What did you say?"

"I-"

"Do you? Did you mean that?"

"I- yes. I do. I meant it. I love you Brooke."

"Oh, God, Jake-"

"Don't say anything." The brunette said pulling her against him. "Not until you're sure."

"Promise to stay in the car?"

Jake nodded and placed a kiss in her hair. "Unless you say otherwise I'm just the getaway driver."

Brooke nodded and handed Jake her car keys. "Let's go."

Brooke started hyperventilating as Jake pulled into the driveway of her parent's house. "Hey," He said, turning off the car. "It's okay. It'll all be okay."

She grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly. "Come in with me."

"Are you sure?"

Brooke nodded. "Come in with me. I need you with me."

"Okay." Jake nodded, "I'm there."

Brooke grabbed Jake's hand again as the two walked up the driveway. "Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jake asked when they reached the front door.

"I have to. It's about time, don't you think?" She glanced down at her stomach.

"Let's go then." Jake said smiling weakly. He was trying hard, but he was having a difficult time hiding his own apprehension.

Brooke took a deep breath and pushed open the door. "Dad?" She heard footsteps echoing through the giant house and let go of Jake's hand. "Wait here."

Jake nodded and watched as her parents came into the foyer. Edward Davis III was a formative looking man. At least 6 feet tall, with graying black hair. He carried himself with an air of arrogance that instantly made Jake respect and despise him.

Tracey Davis would have been a striking woman, if not for the look of displeasure, that no amount of plastic surgery could hide, gracing her features. Her hair was a delicate blonde, pulled up into an intricate, expensive, chignon. She wore an expensive silk suit and unbelievably uncomfortable looking heeled sandals. "Brooke." She said emotionlessly, tapping a perfectly manicured finger against her blue silk clad leg.

"Mother." Brooke nodded feeling incredibly inferior wearing jeans, an emerald green sweater, and fur-lined suede jacket.

"Where are all your things, Brooke?"

"What do you mean?"

"We came home to pack for Greece and everything was gone."

"You looked in my room?" Brooke asked, surprised.

"Your mother wanted to find that pair of earrings you took from her."

"Oh." Jake looked incredulously at Brooke's parents. Were they blind, or did they just not notice that their daughter was over five months pregnant?

"So," Brooke's father prompted, "Where are your things?"

"I moved out." Brooke said quietly.

"You what?" Edward roared.

"I moved out." Brooke repeated herself.

"I did not give you permission to do that."

"When was I supposed to ask?" Brooke asked, some of her natural sarcasm leaking into the question. "Between your trips to Paris and Greece? Between business trips or plastic surgeries? When?"

"Don't speak to your father that way Brooke." Tracey said apathetically, as if Brooke were 4 years old.

"I'll speak to him any damn way I choose." Brooke growled, "If you hadn't noticed I'm 17 years old. I can take care of myself and anyone else that happens to come along."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Are you blind or stupid?" Brooke asked, echoing the question Jake had asked himself earlier. "Can you not see that I'm pregnant?"

"Pregnant?" Brooke pointed at her stomach. "You little slut-"

"Hey!" Jake pushed forward.

"And I suppose you're the delinquent that impregnated her."

"No, I'm not. You have no right to talk to her that way."

"I have every right." Edward hissed, "She was my daughter."

"Was?" Jake asked, every bit as threatening as the older man.

"You are no longer a part of this family." Edward said, turning to Brooke. "No daughter of mine is going to disgrace the family name this way."

"The 'family name' was disgraced long before I got here." Brooke shouted back. Then she grabbed Jake's hand and stormed out of the house.

When they reached the car, Brooke finally broke down. She looked at Jake, tears streaming down her face. "What am I going to do?"

Jake reached out and pulled her to him. "Don't worry, Brooke. We'll figure it out, okay?" Brooke nodded against his chest. "We'll figure it out."