What gave Mr. Melon the right to give Neal and I another detention tomorrow just because we were making out in detention today? And, adding to even more anger that I had bottled up inside me, Amanda hates me, people are afraid to go near my boyfriend, Regina might be looking to kill me, and I won't be hearing the end of the detention scheme from my parents. Great, just great.

I figured since it was three-thirty no one would be home when I got out of school, but I unfortunately wasn't that lucky. As I dropped my keys onto the table near the door, I let out a high-pitched scream, hoping to end my frustration.

And then, making me jump out of my skull, Mary Margaret strolled out of her room with a laundry basket propped under her arm. "From the looks of it your day went well."

"I- uh," I stammered, still in shock that someone heard me scream that loud, that piercing, that embarrassing.

Mary Margaret sent an amused smile at me and sat down at the couch to fold the laundry. She picked up a pair of David's jeans, neatly folded them and lint rolled the fabric. "What happened?" My mother asked me, picking up my black bra and holding it up for me to see.

"Do you really need to stare at my bra?" I asked, mystified. My stomach growled loudly, making me press my hand over my stomach in hopes of quieting it. I grabbed a granola bar out of the cabinet and slumped down on the couch next to her.

"Emma, I'm your mother." Snow giggled, still holding it in front of her face.

I whipped it out of her hands and shoved it into the laundry basket again. "It's still weird, mom," I joked. "I don't want you touching my clothes."

"If you'd like to fold the laundry from now on, be my guest. I'd be more than happy for you to take it off my hands since you don't do anything else around the house." Mary Margaret replied, her tone now serious.

"No thanks..." I answered, leaning against the fabric and closing my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to sleep, but I still had Goddamn homework to do. Who gives homework on the first day of school? Apparently my teachers do.

Mary Margaret watched me, my eyes still closed, and asked, "So, how was your first day of senior year?"

I groaned. This was not what I wanted to talk about, but her tone was so curious, so desperate to connect with me, that I did tell her how my day was. "If you must know, senior year isn't as picture perfect as movies make it out to be. Amanda hates me, people are afraid of Neal because of his dad, there are rumors going around that Regina's out to get me, my stupid English teacher gave me and Neal detention, Mr. Melon thought it was a brilliant idea to give me and Neal another detention tomorrow just because he caught us making out in class... A day in the life with Emma Swan is never calm and peaceful."

"Wait, back up." Snow said, pausing with a pair of socks in her hand. "Did you say that Regina's out to get you?" My mother stood over me, making my eyes pop open. Her face was a mixture of anger and fear, while mine was sleepy and groggy.

"That's what people say, but you really never know with rumors. One person could be saying that she's out to get me, while another could have said that she was throwing me a party." I replied, shutting my eyes and feeling a headache teeter around in my forehead.

Mary Margaret wrinkled her eyebrows in confusion and crossed her arms. "Regina's not one for parties." I shrugged and rubbed my temples, the pain growing stronger. "Emma, honey, are you feeling okay? You look kind of sick all of a sudden." She pressed the back of her hand against my forehead, checking my temperature. "Wow, your burning up! Why don't you go upstairs and get some sleep, maybe you'll feel better later."

But I didn't.

I woke up at seven o'clock that night with a sensation like my stomach did fifty back flips in one minute. My throat throbbed, almost as though I hadn't eaten or drank anything in my entire life. And then, faster than I thought was possible for me to run, I found myself in the bathroom, clutching the toilet for dear life and throwing up.

I stayed bending over the toilet for a half an hour before Mary Margaret found me, looking green in the face. "Oh, my God!" She panicked, rummaging around the bathroom for a wet towel and elastic as I threw up helplessly. "How long have you been like this?" My mother asked, whipping my hair up into a top-knot bun.

"A while," I choked, coughing uncontrollably while my stomach swirled in different directions. The life felt like it had been sucked out of me, until I bent over again and opened my mouth. "This is so gross." I stammered.

Snow rubbed my back reassuringly and thought about how I could have had a sudden change in my body. Was it something I ate? But then she reached under the cabinet and pulled out a small blue box with wording I didn't catch as I bent over again. "Emma, did you and Neal-," She didn't need to finish, for I stopped my nausea and stared at her wide-eyed and nervous.

"It was just once!" I stammered, holding up my hands and wiping my mouth.

She shoved the box in front of my face, the words clear as night- Pregnancy tests. "Did you get your-," Mary Margaret started to ask, but I cut her off.

"No..." I answered quickly, looking at the box.

My mother stared at me intently, and then rested her gaze upon the little blue box. "Emma, you might want to check to see if your pregnant."

BOOM! Did you see that coming?! Send me your thoughts.