All I Wanted

Sunny's POV

Those 2 pink lines stared back at me. Taunting me, laughing in my face. Why me? Why now? Why after I kicked that bastard out of my life?

I tossed the 3rd positive pregnancy test into the trash, praying it was all a hoax. Why now?
"Sunny, can you go to the store for me?" mom called from the kitchen.

I swallowed, looking at the test in the trash; would she find them?

I used tissue to pull them out and stuff them into the box. I grabbed the box, opened the door and walked out, hiding it behind my back.

"What store?" I asked, leaning against the wall of the kitchen entryway.

"I need those expensive pens...from the art store, I guess?" I nodded.

"Any specific color?"

"Black and blue."

I nodded again, walking away, still hiding the box, and into the living room. I grabbed my keys, opened the door, and jogged down the porch. 
-

I discarded the box at the dumpster near the store. I didn't want mom to find out, so throwing it away at home would be a disaster. I parked in front of Beverly's, the nearest arts and crafts store. I had known the exact pens mom was looking for, they were expensive and her boss used them, but of all things, I didn't know the brand.

I walked inside, smelling the aroma of pine needles and faux flowers. I walked down the isles, looking over all the paints, kits, strings, frames and canvases. I envied anyone who could paint, I couldn't to save my life. My mind started to drift onto Gerard...someone I hadn't seen in over a month, I missed him.

Then, everything started to hit me...in the middle of the damn store! I knew I couldn't cry, that I just shouldn't, not in public. But the tears, the fucking tears ate at my eye balls and eyelids. I covered my face with my palms and sat on the cold linoleum floor; I propped up my knees and tried to stop my sobbing.

"Are you okay?" a soft, manly voice asked.

I didn't look up, "No--yes, I'm fine," I sniffled, "I'm okay."

The man didn't say anything, he just sat beside me, "I know the pickings are slim, but there's no need to cry over kite string."

He and I both chuckled, and I wiped my eyes, "I came for pens," I told him, "I just...was having a breakdown, I guess." I looked away from the man, feeling embarrassed.

"Happens to the best of us...even in the middle of an arts and crafts store."

I smiled, softly, and looked at the man. I furrowed my brows at his sight, he was someone I had seen before, but never thought I'd meet. I almost started to panic again, but I took a few breaths, coping a weird look from him.

"Are you alright? Are you gonna faint?"

I shook my head, feeling nervous, "You're...you're Andy Mrotek," I murmured, "The Butcher...what are you--" I stopped myself, "You're an amazing artist! I...I really love your artwork!"

Andy smiled, giving me a cheeky grin, "Thank you, but I can't say I know you."

I sniffled, again, clearing my face, "I'm Sunny, I just admire you so much, your artwork is phenomenal!"

"Again, thank you, but I usually get noticed for being in a band," he bit at his lip.
"That too," I grew embarrassed, "I love TAI, I've seen you guys a couple of times, and I fucking love Santi, it's my favorite record," I rambled on, but Andy just smile, "But I really love your paintings and your drawings...everything!"

"I think I met my biggest fan," he grinned warmly at me, "as my fan, I should know if you're alright or not."

I nodded, "Yeah, just girl stuff." He and I stood up, he took my hand. I thank him, "I should really find my mom's pens before she worries."

"Yeah...it was nice meeting you, Sunny."

"You, too," I smiled wider, "weirdest day of my life."

"Not so much mine."

"Good luck on whatever you're painting next, I'll watch out for it," I told him.

"I'm actually taking a little break," I frowned a little.

"How come?"

"Our newest record is coming out, and I'm helping Jack find an assistant, just major stuff."
I nodded, "Oh, well, I'll make sure to come to a show and buy the CD."

He smiled, "You are one different kind of girl," he started.

"How so?" I asked, a little nervous.

"No pictures, no questions about the band...nothing. I'm actually shocked," he chuckled.
"I'm not into all that...I don't really like meeting the bands I like; I just keep them how I want them in my mind." 

He nodded, "It's nice...meeting a kid like you."

"Thanks, I guess?" I giggled.

"It's a complement," he smile, "it was nice meeting you."

"Same here," I waved to him and started down the isle.

But he pulled me back, "Wait, um," I turned back, "are you sure I can't sign something for you?"

I shrugged, "I don't really have anything."

He tweaked his lips, "What if I give you one of my paintings?"

I heart skipped a beat, "Wow, really? I-I couldn't...I shouldn't," I rambled.

"I have a couple that I have nothing to do with, I could pass them onto you, if you'd like?"

I nodded, feeling extremely like a kid, "I'd love one."

"Cool," he pulled out his phone, "just give me your number and you can come pick one up."
I bit at my lip and quickly gave Andy my number. 
-

Once again, I was taken away from reality, that is until I got to my car. I had remembered, with the pack of pens in my hands, that I was pregnant and had yet to tell my mom.

Pregnant. What the hell was I gonna do now? I have to go to school, I have to work, I'm barely, mentally, stable myself; how am I going to take care of a kid? Should I abort it? Wait and give them up for adoption? Raising a child seemed crazy, especially his child; the thought disgust me. I had to tell mom...I need her help.

God, telling my mom would be hell on earth. I knew she would be angry, she would shake her head at me, and possibly yell, and, possibly, make me move to California with her. Why did my world have to come crashing down?

I made it home, keeping my mind clear. I parked, stopped and got out the car. I jogged up the porch, opened the door, and stepped into, the almost empty, living room. I had noticed little things were gone, pictures and the TV, and the coffee table. 

"Hey," mom met me in her room.

"Here you go," I handed the pens to her.

"Thanks sweetie," she pecked my cheek, and I sat on her bed.

In my mom's room, all her pictures, jewelry, miscellaneous stuff was gone. Her bed was still made, and they were coming for that in the next day or so.

"So empty," I said looking around.

"I know," she was in her closet, bringing out a big box with her, "how's your place looking?"

"Looking," I said softly.

My own apartment was flat, empty, and missing life. Mom had given me the couch, the TV and a few pictures. My room was decorated just like my room here, only it was bigger and cleaner, and my bed was missing. The process of moving kept my mind off things for the past month; I am a slow mover.

"You look lost," she sat beside me, pulling the box to our knees.

"I just can't believe we're moving," I told her; it wasn't exactly a lie.

"I have some pictures here, do you want any?" I shook my head.

"You keep them, I'll make my own," I smiled to myself.

"So you're gonna just take photography classes?" I nodded.

"Yeah."

Mom and I were silent as she went through the box. The box contained more baby pictures of me, birth certificate, my parents marriage license, and other things. I just watched her pick and toss unnecessary things away.

"Sunny, what happened between you and Frank?" she asked looking up at me.

My heart raced, "We broke up."

She tweaked her lips; it was the same thing I told her when she came back, and I was moody for a few days, "Why?"

"Distance," I lied.
Mom could read me like a book. She knew it wasn't the truth, and decided not to push it.
"Sunny, you can tell me anything, y'know," I sighed, with a nod.

"Okay," I breathed out, feeling sick, "I might as well, y'know."

She nodded, "I will understand."

I exasperated again, feeling the stinging tears, "Frank slept with Marilyn, again," I muttered, "she's pregnant."

Mom pressed her lips, fighting back a rant. I just shrugged, not wanting to tell her the rest, "It's over, mom, it's been over for a while, we were just trying to make a pretty picture of our messed up relationship."

"And Mikey? Gerard? Ray?"

"I cut ties with them all, so it's definitely over."

Mom pulled me into a hug, letting me cry on her shoulder, and it felt good. My entire emotions spilled over, hard, and I had to fight to tell her that I was pregnant.
-

Andy called me over, later that afternoon. He had a small studio on the far north side, but I found it pretty quickly. He said he and Jack Edinger, their camera man, shared a home with two studios. 

I arrived to a small, two story home. The front lawn was in perfect condition, it was white, and looked a little vacant. Andy had told me to walk up the door, and I did, noticing the side of the house had a few weird drawings on it's off white coloring. I knocked on the door, shifting nervously.

A short man, with light brown hair and framed glasses opened the door, "You must be Sunny, right?" 

I nodded, "Yes, and you must be Jack."

He nodded, with a smile and let me in, "Butcher is in the back, just follow me."
The house was a bit of a mess, clothes, luggage, empty paint cans, spray cans, and canvases scattered around. The smell was that of pinesole, and other cleaning products. I was led past the foyer, into a wrecked living room, where there was crude graffiti, the artist, as printed in the corner of one wall with spray can drawings of Homer Simpson and penises, was by Sisky Biz-Niz. 

I chuckled at the sight, and Jack looked back at me, "Sisky is a regular Picasso."

We passed the living and towards two glass doors, that had curtains covering them. Jack knocked, then opened the door, inside were paintings everywhere, a desk in the corner, covered in dry paint, stained brushes, and a white paper sheet. I could smell fresh paint, it reminded me of grade school.

"Your date is here," Jack announced to Andy, who was in one corner looking over some painted canvases.

"Oh," he turned back to us; he has on a ratty, old, white t-shirt that was stained with different colors, and gym shorts that were stained as well, "hey, Sunny."

"Hi," I waved shyly.

Jack raised his brows at us, "I'll be in my own studio," he grinned and disappeared behind me.

I walked over to Andy, as he pulled some canvases out, one with sheep with wings, "Oh, like Infinity On High?"

He smiled at me, "Yeah."

I looked over the painting, it was cute. One sheep had a speak bubble: 'Let's Ride!'.

"I like it," I told him, "I've never seen this one before."

He stood, setting the rest of the canvases down, "I had lost it, it's one of my favorites."

I tweaked my lips, "Here you go, it's really nice," I told him.

"No, it's cool, you keep it."

I raised my brow, "Are you sure?"

He nodded, "I can always draw another."

I smiled, "Thanks."

"Be careful with it--"

Andy was cut off by Jack coming back in, "My camera is acting iffy again," he said, "can you help?"

"Iffy?" Andy and I both asked with cocked brows and small smiles.

"Yes, iffy," he retorted, "Help, please, Butcher."

"I can help," I said, "I'm good with cameras."

He raised his brow at me, "Really?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm gonna take classes at CSU for photography."

Jack smiled, "Great!" he walked over and pulled my hand.

I was rushed, along with Andy and the canvas over to Jack's side of the house. He ushered me into a room with 2 Mac computers, a back drop, a few props, and a couple of cameras set up.

"This one, it's extremely out of focus, and I can't fix it."

"Uh, okay," I handed Andy the canvas and Jack took his Nikon off it's tripod.

I looked the camera over, moving the lens, and examining it. I knew exactly what was wrong, my own had done the same.

"It's the scope, it's no good, and who ever sold you this gipped you," Jack furrowed his brows, "and you need a new internal battery, this one is way too beaten up."

Jack grinned, "Do you want a job?"

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"A job, I need an assistant."

I shook my head, "I'd love too, but I-I have school and um...I'm pregnant, and I don't know how much help I'd be to you."

Jack frowned a little, "How about until you're ready to pop?" I raised my brow, "Until you give birth."

I shrugged, "I don't know, I have another job."

"$900 every two weeks, and I can work around your school schedule."

My jaw nearly hit the floor, "Really?"

He nodded, "Really, really."

I bit at my lip, "Um...okay...sure."

It felt like the first day of the rest of my life.