I don't even stop at home to collect any of my belongings. I just steer my car in the direction of the airport and put my mind on autopilot.

I don't want to think. To feel. Feelings are raw and they hurt like an elephant's tusk being shoved through your sternum. Which is why I always fucking avoided them.

Why couldn't I have just stuck to the plan? Live like a free bird, never fall in love, fucking protect myself.

I can't even process what I'd just heard. It’s like my internal hard drive is crashing bit by bit.

Jackson is my father.

It’s a sick, cruel joke and the universe is laughing at me. He's been planted two feet in front of my face this entire time.

My heart has been cleaved in two and then shoved into a blender. I'm not even sure I can feel it anymore, except every time I picture Clint's face it does this dramatic twist that makes me feel as if I'm going to vomit.

I park the car in overnight parking, not even bothering to realize that it will probably be towed when I don't return for it. People pass by in a rush, bags and spouses and toddlers in tow. Cabs screech to a halt in front of each gate, and a cop's whistle blares over the entire ecosystem of the airport.

I realize I don't have my passport on me, which means escaping the country is out of the question. I don't know where to go. Minka is back at the house, with Clint. So that's a no. Mitchum is definitely a no, too obvious and my parents could always unexpectedly stop in. Right now I have no desire to be on one of their preserves; Jackson will surely get word of it.

The lightbulb in my head finally shines bright. New York. I'll go to Chloe.

The flight to the Big Apple is a blur. I have one too many gin and tonics. The stewardess looks worried when I ask for a fifth, but she still brings it. I don't know if the haggard expression on my face wins her sympathy, or if she's regarding me strangely because I'm in zoo keeper khakis with dirt from the grounds still smeared on my face.

As soon as I hit the terminal, I felt swarmed. I’d forgotten how crowded New York was. My senses went into overdrive, taking in pixels of the noise and motion around me. I felt that at any moment I’d have a full on breakdown.

Hitting the pavement, I hailed a cab. Only to realize I had no idea where Chloe and Miles lived in the city. A sob broke from my lips, and I could feel the dam I’d so carefully laid into place start to give under the weight of my emotions.

Chloe picked up on the second ring. “Hey, Kels!”

At the tinkling, cheerful note of her voice the tears started to rush out. I relayed half of my story in hurried sobs and hiccups, with Chloe confusedly shouting into the phone. Finally she gave me the address, promising to meet me out front of their building.

I practically cry on the shoulder of the cab driver when I hop in, but somehow discerns the garbled address I give him.

Chloe is waiting, her long black hair swaying in the wind. Those pink ballet pointe shoes are slung around her shoulders, almost like another organ.

I run out of the yellow taxi and into her arms. Thankfully, my best friend doesn’t question me. Just puts her arm around my shoulder and ushers me inside.

For the first few days I crash in Miles and Chloe's second bedroom, I simply sleep. The pain of finding out the truth coupled with Clint's lie is too great. I can't let it prick the surface of my skin, so I invest in some great sleeping pills and give myself over to the bliss. By the fourth day, the grieving-binger stage hits. Good thing New York is the city that never sleeps. Which means I can order pizza, Chinese food and milkshakes to my heart's desire, and they'll be dropped of on my doorstep at even the latest of hours.

I hear Chloe and Miles whisper-arguing late at night when they think I’m not listening.

“We have to tell him where she is!” Miles hisses at her, clearly concerned about his best friend. His best friend who also happens to be a lying sack of shit.

I haven’t turned on my phone since I got here, refusing to tell anyone where I am. From what I can tell, Miles and Chloe haven’t tipped Clint off.

“She trusts us. I’m not betraying that. And we haven’t even gotten the full story. You have no idea what he did to send her running. What if he cheated on her?”

“Clint!? Yeah right! I’m pretty sure he was a virgin before he met Kelsey.”

Right on one count, Farris.

I wish he cheated on me. That would have been easier to swallow than what Clint had actually done.

It’s not until the fifth, sixth and seventh days do I realize that I'm still tired to the bone. So doused in drowsiness that it is physically hard to walk at times. And after I vomit every morning on those days, I attribute it to the crap I've been putting in my stomach. That is until I'm sitting on Chloe's couch, watching an episode of Law and Order SVU while the happy couple is at work, when the teenager on the screen finds out she's pregnant.

And then it hits me.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. No, it can't be. I sit in stunned silence for what feels like hours.

I have to know. Besides my real parentage, I have never been the kind of person who would rather not be privy to information. I'm direct, straight forward. What you see is what you get. And so if I'm preg...I'm having trouble even thinking the word. If I am, I need to know.

Good thing New York has a Duane Reed on every goddamn corner. Who knew this store was even still in business?

I act like a ninja in the store, as if the entire population of Mitchum, NC, my hometown, might pop out from behind the aisle at any moment. I pull my hood down further on the walk home, feeling the eyes of strangers judging me. In reality, they can't even see inside the bag, much less care what I'm doing.

Finally, I'm back in Chloe's walk up, trembling in the bathroom. Slowly, I unwrap the test from its packaging. This is the most surreal moment of my life. Even more surreal than finding out Jackson was my biological father. I can't actually believe I'm here in this moment, doing this. It feels like I'm out of my own body, watching from somewhere in the corner. I'm the girl I would make fun of for being alone, taking a pregnancy test in her best friend's bathroom.

The noise from outside the window, which usually keeps me annoyed during the day and awake at night, is dull and muted. I feel like my heart is about to fall out of my throat and flop onto the floor like a fish, caught and fighting for its life on the deck of a dry boat.

I make quick business of peeing on the stick, of course getting some on my hand and cursing myself for ever being stupid enough to land in this predicament in the first place.

Whoever invented these things is the devil? Wait three minutes? Sure, I'll just go knit while I await the results of a stick I just pissed on that may or may not change my entire life.

I spend the full three minutes alternating between pacing the small bathroom and trying not to pull my hair out. When it’s finally up, I throw my hands over my face, peeking out from behind my fingers like I'm watching The Exorcist alone on Halloween. 

Just rip the band aid off, Kelsey.

I move to the sink, where the piece of plastic that holds my future sits. My stomach is in my toes, all of the light in the room focusing like a spotlight on the test. It’s like I have tunnel vision. Looking down, I see the two faded blue lines running perpendicular to each other. A plus sign. I'm pregnant.

Fuck.

Thoughts don't even register in my brain. I slide down the wall into a sitting position, not realizing the fat, salty tears rolling down my face until the collar of my shirt is practically soaked.

I must sit there for hours like a zombie, because next thing I know Chloe is talking at me, words that don't register, and darkness as set in.

She flicks on the light. "What are you doing?" Her voice is incredulous.

I glance up, not really making out her whole face from behind my veil of tears. Its then that I find her staring at the pregnancy test still sitting on the counter

"Oh, Kels..." The shock and sheer worry on her face make me find my voice.

"I guess you were really right when you said I was going to have Clint's babies..."

And then I burst into tears.