"Rilla Blythe, please report to the principles office," the intercom rang out in my class. The entire class turns to look at me. I hear people snicker, when I showed up at school a week after school started, it caused a stir. Apparently, they thought I had either had a miscarriage or was sent away. The teacher gives me a look of pity as I grab my bag and leave the room.

I walked to my mother's office, nodding to the secretary as I knock on the door.

"Rilla, please come sit," my mother speaks up and I noticed a female police officer in the room sitting in another chair. "Officer McClean wishes to ask you a few questions." My mother says as she shuts her office door for privacy.

"Do you wish for your mother to stay?" The lady cop asks me.

"Uhh, yeah it's fine," I tell her and I can see mom sigh in relief, "umm… what's this about?" I turn to the cop.

"Well, we had a concerned citizen call in, they were worried about your well-being," she began. "And the possibility of an inappropriate relationship?" She looks at me kindly.

I instantly know it's about Ken, It's about him being the father of my child.

"If this about Kenneth Ford," I say to her with a squeak. "It's not all that it appears to be." I try to explain to her.

"Is he not the father of your child?"

I can only nod my head.

"You're 16?" She asks, I see my birthday written down on a piece of paper with my name. Beneath mine was Ken's name and birthday. "He's 22, we just want to make sure that you weren't pressured or mislead."

"You think he pressured me?" I say in disbelief. "You think he misleads me? I was drunk! He was drunk! He hadn't seen me in years! I was the annoying kid who followed him around when he hung out with my older brother!"

The officer frowns at my hysterics. "We are just responding to a call nothing more."

"He's a decent guy, who despite finding out that he's about to be a father from our drunken stupidity isn't running away!" I exclaim loudly. Unconsciously wrapping my arms around my growing stomach. I felt like I needed to protect her from whatever was being said. She could hear us, that was something Olivia had told me when I had turned 24 weeks.

"You have to understand how it looks to us, Miss Blythe. It was barely three weeks after your sixteen birthday, he's twenty-two. Yes, the age of consent is sixteen, but given the close proximity of birthday and your conception date it does look suspicious." The officer explained. "Did he ever contact you prior to the party? Talk to you on the phone? Email you?"

"No, no and no!" I shoot up from my seat. "The only person he ever talked to is Walter. We weren't even friends on Facebook, or Twitter or anything! God he barely even uses Facebook. I don't even think we're friends on it. The last time we saw each other I had been twelve years old, before that I had been ten! He only ever saw me as his friend's annoying little sister. I won't have you accuse him of being a predator, he was surprised just as much as I was that morning. I still can see the guilt in his eyes every time he looks at me."

"Rilla," My mother finally speaks up. "Please sit and calm down, Officer McClean is just doing her job. Your relationship with Ken is strange on to the outside world."

"What relationship! We never dated, we had one night where we exchanged some bodily fluids, that's it! I don't even know what we are at this moment? Friends with a baby on the way? Trying to figure out how to deal with this situation. How to be parents! I need to get out of here," I exclaim snatching up my books and slamming the door on my way out.

"Rilla!" I hear my mother call out but I ignore her.

I grab my coat from my locker which thankfully was on the same floor and leave by one of the many side doors of the school. The wind was cold as I wrap my scarf around my neck and pull on my gloves.

Ken.

Oh God if they were talking to me!

I walk as fast as I can to the nearest bus stop. Digging through my pockets for my bus pass hoping that it would come soon. I pull out my phone ignoring the missed call from my mother and numerous text messages as I pull out the transit app. Three minutes, I sigh to myself, at least the bus would bring me relatively close to Ken's new apartment.

The driver says nothing to me about not being in school as I swipe my monthly pass at the machine. I make my way and I take the first seat available pulling off my small backpack in the process. I wipe away the stray tears with a glove and pull out my headphones and plug them into my phone and turn on my music.

I stepped off the bus and looked up at the building Ken now lived in. Was he even home? What if he wasn't? I look down at my phone and pressed the message icon. Still feeling strange to see Ken in there, as I pressed it.

'Are you home?'

'I am, why? Is everything all right?' His response was prompt.

'I'm downstairs,' I text him back and two minutes later he appeared at the door opening it for me.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you at school?" He asked me as he led me into the building and up the stairs.

"Has anyone called you, or came to talk to you?" I ask him.

"No, why?" He looked at me curiously as he opened the door to his place. It was nothing crazy, rather normal apartment from what I could tell. I had never been in it before now, he had pointed it out on a drive here and there but it was the first time I was in it.

I take off my jacket and hang it off one of the mismatched chairs at the small table he had found at a thrift shop. He didn't say much about his parents and their thoughts about the situation since they left. Our moms spent more time talking to each other about the situation than we did.

It was a full circle of disappointment, but unlike myself, Ken could potentially distance himself from his parents. I on the other hand was sort of stuck with them with nowhere to go, or money. I sat down on the couch in the fairly bare living room. A PlayStation and tv he brought from Toronto were set up, a stack of games beside it from the Ikea table he had brought as well.

"What's going on Rilla?" He asks as he brings me a cup of tea and I hold it warming up my hands.

"I think my doctor called the police as a concerned citizen after she saw how old you were last week. I was called out of class, and mom was talking to this officer when I went to her office. Next thing I know I was being asked all these questions. If you contacted me ever like you're some sort of perverse guy who preys on teenage girls." I tell him. "It made me so angry. It's not like it's enough that we're both feel guilty or unsure how to even bring this child into the world in this messed up situation. No! They had to insinuate that you planned it!"

Ken sat down next to him with a sigh. "Well, I can't say I wasn't expecting something like this to happen."

"You expected it?" I look at him.

"Well, I knew it could be a possibility, what three weeks after your birthday Rill? Someone at some point was going to say something about it." He said before looking at the ceiling. We sit in silence with our tea. "Dad warned me about it as well."

"Do you want to get out of your uniform?"

"I don't have a change of clothes, I didn't think I would be walking out of school today," I sigh.

"I can lend some?" Ken told me getting up and walking over to his room. I wait a moment before I get up and follow him. An old dresser and double bed with some books on the bedside table next to an iPad.

Ken passes me a pair of Roots sweat pants that have a drawstring at the waist and cuffs at the bottom and a grey tee-shirt that had the band, Queen, on it. He shuts the door on his way out leaving me to change. I pull at my blouse and unbutton it, shrugging out of it as wiggle out of my skirt that I decided to wear today with a pair of thick fleece-lined leggings.

Joy had found me the skirt in her shopping, it was stretchy and plaid like our school uniform and gave me something other than pants to wear. I sit down discard my leggings and pull on the sweats that awkwardly sit across my stomach until I push the waistband under. They were long and a bit baggy on me but they were warm and not my uniform. I take the shirt that was abit loose and comfortable and undoubtedly long on my short frame but it smelt like him. I fold my uniform and place it on his dresser before opening the door.

I find Ken in the small kitchen cutting up vegetables on a cutting board. "What are you doing?" I ask him.

"I was going to make up some grilled cheeses, but then of course you don't eat cheese much so I thought maybe a salad?"

"Grilled cheese is fine Ken," I tell him quietly when I see a loaf of rye bread instead of white.

"Then grilled cheese it is," he smiles at me and turns back into the fridge for the cheese and grabs a loaf of rye bread. We make lunch together quietly, he leaves me to the salad as he cooks up the sandwiches on the stove. I hear my phone go off three times in my bag. If Ken notices he doesn't say anything.

"What will you do if they find out where you are?" I ask him.

"I texted dad about it, though I have nothing to hide so if they want to search my computer they can do so?" He replies as grabs two plates from the cupboard next to him. "Ketchup?"

"Is there any other way to eat a grilled cheese?" I ask him.

"Fair enough," he laughs and grabs a container of salad dressing from the fridge as he is in there. "I only have Italian?"

"It's all right, I prefer dry salad actually unless you have some lemons lying around?" I tell him with a shake of my head. Ken shakes his head.

"No lemons sadly, actually I need to get some more groceries." He tells me as I take the plate he offers me and one of the salads I had made. I watch him add some dressing on to his before he motions over towards the couch.

"Well, since you are here," he says as he turns on his tv.

I pick at my salad, confused until I see him bring up firefly on Netflix. I shake my head at him, but say nothing as the episode begins. I take alternate bites of my lunch, nibbling on the sandwich. I see Ken watching me and I make an effort to eat more on my next bite, he already knows too much in my mind.

"So cowboys meet star trek?" I ask him halfway through the episode. "Space Cowboys?"

"Pretty much," he nods, at some point he's watching me watch it, more than he is watching it himself. Suddenly his phone rings, we both look at each other and look at it. I see my father's name flash on the screen.

"Dr. Blythe," Ken answers the phone after giving me a quick glance. "No, she's here. She was worried that they came here," He explained which had been true. "Not yet, but I haven't been able to change my license or address yet." There was a short pause. "Rilla told me she thinks it was her doctor, it was the only person that recently found out?"

He watches me watch him talk. I was still surprised that my father had called him. They talk for another moment before Ken told him that he would bring me home later on. At this point, I had finished my lunch and was writing it into my small journal. I looked up when I felt him watching me. I shyly hide my journal from him shutting it.

"This whole vegetarian, dancer, thing," he pieces together a sentence. "I don't know much about that world. But I know that they say eating disorders are prominent—," he starts.

I stare at him for a moment. I don't think anyone had ever said such a thing to me out loud. Which meant I never had to admit the insane obsession I had over my weight. Which also was the hardest thing about this pregnancy for me to deal with.

"You think I have an eating disorder?" I ask him, wondering he would repeat himself or chicken out.

I watched him nod his head after a moment.

"I just like eating healthy," I settle with. "It's not like I make myself throw up I'm not bulimic, I'm far from being anorexic. My dad would send me to the clinic to stay if he ever thought I was that way."

I watch Ken mull over what I told him but nod his head. "All right," he says. He looks unsatisfied but drops the subject. I suddenly was afraid that he would see right through me. See past all my tricks and lies I used when it came to food that no one else seemed to pick up on yet.

"I'm not," I repeat myself to him and he nods his head to me once more. "I'm fine," I stress to him.

He nods his head before he before going back to the show. I take out plates into the kitchen and wash them and leave them in the drying rack.

I can hear his telephone ring once more and answers it.

"Of course, yes I am interested. I wasn't expecting a call so soon," he said into the line.

"I can that do that day," he says. "10 am is perfect,

"I got an interview at the Museum, my professor from school gave me a connection and got my resume pushed at the right person." He said with a huge grin on his face as he comes over to me.

"That's good!" I say trying to match his enthusiasm for it.

"It is, knowing people is one the easiest ways to find a job most of the time," he tells me with another nod that moves his dark hair. He looked so relieved and happy, it gives me flashbacks of his face back when I used to follow him around.

We both sober slightly at the tight confines of the small kitchen.

"She's happy for you," I tell him breaking the silence.

"I hope she is, someone has to buy her diapers and teddy bears," he says with a crooked smile. "Should we try and do your math homework?"

"I suppose so," I say with a sigh.

We end up sitting at his small table, my books in front of us as I try and work through my homework.

"I don't get it," I groan into my arm. "It's all just numbers and letters and numbers and letters should never be together!"

"Just follow me okay," Ken says trying to get my attention as he works through the problem with me. We sat at his table as he tries to help me with my math homework.

I am at the point of tears, I feel so stupid that I couldn't grasp it. I watch him go through it once by himself and double-checking the answer at the back of the book before he grabbed a fresh piece of paper.

"Look, step by step," he tells me "You know of Bidmas?" He says to me. "Start with the brackets, then the indices or powers, divide and multiply, add and subtract," he tells me.

"How do you know this? No one has ever taught me this!"

"I liked math?" Ken says.

"So you're just a genius?"

"I am no genius," Kens smiles slightly. "Mostly because I have no idea what your teacher gave you for your next question. It doesn't even make sense!"

"It's a review of the semester, but how do you not know it! You passed high school!

"In the words of my father to my mother when she asks him something he doesn't know. 'Just because I am older doesn't mean I have all the answers, I am just older, not smarter.'"

"Well that's not fair," I make a face and sigh looking back down at my homework.

Ken drops me off shortly after five pm. I awkwardly hug him goodbye before raced inside to get out of the cold January weather.

I dropped my bag and wandering into the kitchen where I found Dad drinking a cup of coffee as he was making dinner.

"Your home," He comments looking over my appearance but says nothing about the obvious change of clothing.

"Ken told you he would drive me home," I tell him and he nods his head.

"What did you do?" Dad asks me as he takes the chicken from the oven and sets down the pan on the stovetop to cool.

"Watched some tv, ate lunch, he helped me with my math homework," I tell him as I spy a large mushroom on another tray.

"Where's mom?" I asked curiously.

"She has a board meeting, she should be home in a few minutes. She texted to say start without her so it doesn't get cold on us."

I nod my head. "You work tonight?"

"Tomorrow morning," he shakes his head." Normal clinic hours," he explains.

"Do you think I can get a new doctor?"I ask my dad when we sit at the dinner table. On my plate are my grilled mushroom and a quinoa salad.

"I can call around if it makes you more comfortable not going back to her, but you don't know if it was her or not. It could have been a nurse," My dad reminds me.

"I just don't trust them right now," I tell him quietly.

"I'll see what I can do then," he tells me with a small smile and I nod my head and nibble on my dinner.

"What was it like for you, back then with Joy, when Mom was pregnant? You were are school?" I asked quietly. He looks at me, trying to figure out what to say.

"Well, I was at Redmond and when your mom called me. I hung up and cried, it felt like the world was caving in." He says setting down his fork. I didn't expect such honesty from him for some reason. "I didn't know what to do or say, I barely money for gas most weeks. I started working odd jobs here and there just to be able to drive back and forth more often. I didn't get a chance to go to many appointments, but I was there when she was born." My dad said as he recalled those early days.

"My mother, your grandmother gave me her engagement ring, to give to your mom. That way we didn't need to buy one, it was my dad who bought our wedding rings for us as a gift when we got married at city hall during reading week." He says next. Grandma and Grandpa Blythe passed away when I was little so I have little recollection of them.

"Joy's first year, your Aunt Marilla found a place in Kingsport. She watched Joy as we went to school, then afterwards Joy was in subsidized daycare." He said. "When I finished my bachelor's, I started applying for medical school. Your mother still had two years left on her bachelor's and still had to get her education degree. Thankfully I got into Dalhousie. Otherwise, we would have had to be long-distance or possibly we would have had to move and your mother try to transfer school. Those years weren't easy at all. All we could afford was a one-bedroom apartment, Joy was little so it didn't matter much where she slept for the first little while."

I frown I knew most of this and not exactly what I was looking for as an answer.

"You're wondering about Ken?" He asks after a moment.

"It just seems like he's uprooting his whole entire life for this," I say quietly. "It makes me feel guilty, I guess?"

"No one forcing him to do this," My dad reminded me. I almost protest that Owen could technically force Ken to be here. "How about this, you are not forcing him to be here, he's doing this for himself because he feels like he should. If anything if I had to respect him for something lately it would be standing up and doing the right thing."

Why was it always called doing the right thing for the guy? When I was the girl in the situation is often felt like my right thing, wasn't what others thought was the right thing?

I only nod my head as I focused back on my salad, stabbing a piece of cucumber. Awkward silence filling up the kitchen once more.

"Do you wish you sent me to ballet school?" I asked him. "That this maybe wouldn't have happened if I wasn't angry at the world?"

"We can't talk about if's, it happens," he said sitting down his fork. "It is what it is."

I sigh and push my plate away from me. I was ready to call it quits on dinner when dad gave me another look. I didn't have time to protest as the backdoor opened one more.

"I'm sorry I am late, but the school board decided to have a private conversation with me today," my mother greets us as she comes into the kitchen. "Oh dinner is ready to perfect, let me wash up."

"What did the school board want?" My father asks her with a raised eyebrow.

"I will tell you about it later," Mom tells him with a look while she glances over at me.

"It's about me," I say out loud and they both look at him.

"Of course it isn't?" Mom says trying to brush off her shock.

"The school board wants to talk to you, hours after the police question me in school about my situation and Ken? You don't have to lie, I'm not dumb. I know that it was any other student you would have had to report it. Much like the doctor did."

"Either way I set them straight," My mother retorts and I look down at my plate. "My job is safe, they can't fire me over something trivial as a family issue. It's not like we are catholic school." She told us. "I told them it was a family matter that we are figuring out."

I push back my plate and chair from the table, dinner still half uneaten.

"Rilla," Mom warns me as she still wants to talk to me.

"I have homework," I whine my response.

"Sit down," Dad tells me sternly.

"You can't run out of a school like that," Mom tells me. "And you can't just ignore our calls, we didn't know where you had gone too."

"We live on an island! How far can I get?" I say sarcastically.

"Rilla," This time it was Dad's turn to warn me.

"I had to make sure he was all right, I had to warn him. He offered me a change of clothing and made me lunch," I explain looking down at his sweatpants I was still wearing. "We watched some tv, he even helped me with my math homework," I tell them.

"Rilla you aren't in trouble, we just want you to understand that you should be careful. We've known Ken since he was born, but the fact of the matter is. He's older than you, quite a bit at that. It isn't two years or three years, it's doubled." Mom tells me looking at my father. "Crushes happen we get that, but as I said we want you to be careful. We don't want you falling accidentally victim to some sort of authority imbalance, or complex with him. I know he's careful and I know from Leslie he's worried about it. We just want you to know that your own decisions are based on you alone. If he means what he says he'll always be there for the baby, but you don't have to try and make something work because you think it's expected of you."

"I know, we have talked about this, or we try anyway," I tell them I see their brows raise slightly. "Why are you shocked that we talk about things? Either way, I know he's worried about a power imbalance or something of the sort. Mainly he wants me to know what I want without any baby-influenced emotions. He says waiting for me to turn eighteen like it's some magical number makes no sense and only makes it weirder to him." I tell them

"What do you think?" My father asks me as he set down his fork.

"I think he has point," I say with a small shrug. "Half of what I feel lately anyway is up and down. I don't know if I'm overreacting or under-reacting because of the baby and really why is eighteen a magical number given our circumstances?" I take a bite of the mushroom I hadn't touched yet and make face as soon as I chew it. "Oh no," I say trying not to gag as I race towards the bathroom. Between the taste and texture, my stomach was heaving as it was rejecting the mushroom before I even managed to swallow it fully.

I can feel mom rub my back, and hold my hair out of my face. "I don't like this," I groan. "I hate throwing up." I truly did, probably the one thing that kept me from doing worse to myself in the name of dance.

"Well, we'll take mushrooms off the menu for you," Dad says as he passes me a glass of what and I rinse out my mouth. "Do you think you can eat more dinner, or should I make you a protein shake?"

My face turns green at the thought of more dinner at the moment.

"Shake it is," Dad says sympathetically with a nod of his head. "Your doctor mentioned that you were having trouble gaining weight at the hospital. So I will add some peanut butter powder for some extra calories and protein for you. Which was another discussion we wanted to have with you of why you never said anything about her concerns?"

I merely shrug, barely hearing his words as I sit on the edge of the tub. Looking down at Ken's sweatpants and shirt I was wearing. "I guess I didn't want to worry you?" I say with a sigh.