2 and ½ weeks

Do the right thing

Summary: As opposed to 9 and ½ weeks lol! Sandy, Kirsten, Berkeley, fight, break-up, something's wrong.

Disclaimer: I wish it was, mine I mean.

---
The first of multiple posts today to celebrate one year of fic writing!

---

Do the right thing. That was the last thing she felt like doing.

Kirsten had always done the right thing; right grades, right clothes, right boyfriend…until she chose Berkeley.

Jimmy had 'done the right thing' and she hated to compare Sandy to him.

Why go back to doing the 'right thing' now?
She'd gone to the 'wrong' school, chosen the 'wrong' course and was dating the 'wrong' guy, their romance the result of a one-night stand. Stupid, foolish, risky, whatever you called it, it certainly wasn't the 'right' thing to do. It was wrong, oh so wrong and Kirsten was loving it. It all felt so right.

It hadn't been just a one-night stand; six weeks later and she had a great boyfriend out of it, what was wrong with that?

Nothing…until the part where she got pregnant.

That was so bloody wrong.

And the pregnancy test she'd taken, that had to be wrong.

The positive pregnancy test.

Wrong, it should be negative, a big, fat negative because there was nothing positive about this. Nothing.

It was not right, it couldn't be.

That didn't change the pink line in the test window though.

Not in any of the three tests she'd bought in three different chemists.

Triple humiliation because she couldn't bear to believe the first one. It was all so stupid.

She wasn't stupid. She knew one-night stands were risky, seen as 'morally wrong' but hers had been more than that. And when something so right came out of them that had to be the right kind of wrong.

Pregnancy however was the worst kind of wrong.
They weren't stupid; it wasn't as if they hadn't been careful. They were little more than strangers plus a bag load of sexual tension and that was enough of a risk.

So much for that.

She'd never thought about the 1 ineffective statistic. 99 effective had seemed enough until now.

Nothing was perfect.

Just like her.

Nothing was good enough.

Just like she wasn't for her dad.

She couldn't cope with this.

She knew that the instant she comprehended those three pink lines.

She couldn't be that girl.

She knew that the moment the doctor told her she was seven weeks pregnant.

And she couldn't tell Sandy.

The moment the doctor asked after the baby's father she knew that.

She'd shaken her head and he hadn't pressed her. Obviously thinking she was a dumb California blonde who'd gotten into trouble, had yet another one-night stand and paid the price. It wasn't like that.

She had a boyfriend…had…used to have…she wasn't sure.

A one-night stand that lead to the best six weeks of her life. Six weeks.

Followed by the worst week ever.

The baby's father; her boyfriend of six weeks.

To think she'd been pregnant all that time. The thought sickened her and that made her feel guilty.

But she couldn't do this, wouldn't do this.

Perhaps growing up in Newport Beach had made her as selfish as they come but it was her life, her body and she hadn't asked for this baby.

So what if it was her fault? It took two to tango and Sandy wasn't going to be the one with the morning sickness, the exhaustion, the aching back, the stretch marks and the labour pains.

She was 18. She wanted a life.

She wanted to finish college, she wanted her degree.
Her own life, not one tied to her father's money.

It was selfish.

But she could never go through with anything else.

She lived in a dorm room. He lived in a mail truck. It was crazy to even think about it.

She could never do it.

She'd never be a good enough mother.

It was for the best.

---
Happy Easter. Please review!

---