Chapter Seventy-One
So, I was pregnant. Of course I was pregnant. Nothing had ever been more inevitable.
I sat down to steady myself when I got the call, glad that I was alone in a house, yet completely terrified of it. How could the gods be so cruel to me? I'd gone through my entire life being chaste, and then when I was pregnant I had to have slept with two men. And it was far too late to ever make Sawyer understand.
I stifled a cry as a wave of nausea made me run for the bathroom and empty the contents of my stomach. I already felt more pregnant than I ever had during the scare.
There was no way I could do this. No way I could tell Sawyer, and the chances that I could go through a pregnancy, a birth, and the childhood of a baby without ever telling Sawyer was impossible.
And he was getting suspicious.
His suspicion grew daily when we went to bed and only slept, when I flinched from his touch but rarely let myself be alone. And I was afraid he'd know soon-I'd told Jenny, I'd told Tess. Two of the girls he was closest to in the entire world. Both of which were liable to tell him at any day.
I tenderly placed my shaking hands on my stomach. Like it or no, there was a baby growing. A baby that was mine, whomever else it was. A baby. When it wasn't screaming, it would have a little red mouth and big blue eyes and curly hair and little tiny feet.
A baby that could be a blonde or a brunette. A swimmer or a basketball player. An evil rapist or the best guy in the world.
I needed to stop dwelling.
I was in my car before I could think, roaring toward downtown. I looked out the window as I passed the River Court, remembering all the happy times it had given me. These memories dulled as I saw a lone finger making perfect jump shots and free shots, each one sinking into the net. Why did Lucy Wheeler have to be so good at basketball?
I drove past the street I used to live on. I looked at our house and then the Scott's, where Nathan was shooting baskets. I caught a glimpse of Haley looking down at him from a second floor window. Haley was almost as confused as I felt.
I drove past Keith and Karen's house, past Mouth's, past Lucas' hotel. All the places that held people that loved me, people who would be so much more than happy to advise me, to listen to me cry. Anyone in Tree Hill would be happy to do so. I was a Scott. I was one of the most beloved citizens. Before two weeks ago, I'd symbolized everything that was truly beloved by the town. I was a Princess, they were my subjects. I could talk to anyone, and I'd confided in my sister, based in Rhode Island and in a pregnant teenager.
I was so screwed. There was no way this could possibly turn out well.
I cycled back to the street I used to live on, and parked in the Scott driveway.
"Who is she, Nathan?" yelled Haley, before I could open the door. I stopped to listen.
"The daughter of a friend. I've told you a thousand times," he said tiredly.
"Then why is it that I don't believe you?" she demanded.
"It beats me! I've been trying to figure out why my wife doesn't believe what I'm telling her after twenty years," raged Nathan.
"Oh come on. Everyone from here to Raleigh thinks she's your daughter," screamed Haley.
"For God's sakes Hales! I thought you knew me better! She's not my freaking daughter, she's my sister," he said, suddenly sounding tired. I peaked through the window on the door and watched Haley's stunned expression.
"I love you, you know?" she said, walking toward him.
"I guess you know now," said a voice from behind me. I spun around-Lucy Wheeler was coming up the walk, looking less confident than I'd ever seen her.
"Not really. What are they talking about?" I asked.
"Dan Scott's my father," she admitted, dropping down onto the porch step. I sat carefully beside her as I absorbed this new piece of information. Suddenly it all made sense-her eyes, her basketball talent.
"No wonder you're such a bitch," I said, before I could stop myself. She looked sideways to stare incredulously at me. I opened my mouth to apologize before she burst into laughter.
"No wonder. I haven't had anyone stick up to me since I got here. It's refreshing. You know you're kind of my niece?" she said.
"Yeah, it had occurred to me. Who's your mother?" I asked curiously.
"Sure you want to know?" she asked, an aura of kindness breaking through her cold exterior.
"I think so."
"Nicole Turner," she responded, looking away. I took a deep breath and put my head on my knees.
"Two people that should never have been allowed to reproduce. You poor thing. He's years older than her," I commented.
"I know. She just did it for the money," she revealed.
"Somehow I'm not surprise. I guess you're my half sister's half sister. Does that make you my quarter sister?" I asked. She laughed again. She had a surprisingly nice laugh, but she used it infrequently.
"Sure, why not. You know I'm actually sorry I came here, because it seems to have messed everyone up," she admitted.
"Lucy Wheeler, feeling remorse. Wow. By the way, what's with that Wheeler?"
"Oh, it's my codename. I go by Turner-Scott," she said.
"This has been the most insane afternoon of my life."
"Yeah. Do you think Haley's still going to kill me?" she asked.
"Nope. How's living with Nikki?" I asked.
"Hell. I was hoping my father would take me in, until I met him," she said.
"Gotcha. Um, do you like living with Nathan and Haley?" I asked suggestively.
"Yeah, but they hate me," she reminded me.
"They wouldn't if you started being the you that you're being right now. They're lonely now, with Sawyer not living at home," I said.
"Really think they'd take me in?" she asked hopefully.
"Sure, why not. I have to go. It's nice to meet you, Lucy Turner-Scott," I said jokingly.
"And you as well," she responded before turning into the house.
I stared after her a long time after she'd disappeared. Turner-Scott. The product of Tree Hill's two most notorious. The world would be a different place when it got wind of her.
As I got back in my car and began to drive back downtown, I wondered how we could ever have been so suspicious of Nathan. He loved his wife. They'd been married for twenty years. He wasn't the type to impregnate two women at once-that was more his father's style.
I paused in front of the building before getting out of my car and walking into it. A friendly looking receptionist greeted me, smiling pleasantly:
"Hello, this is the family planning clinic, how may we help you?" she chirped.
"I'd like to get an abortion," I said slowly.
