Dumb and Fearless

After spending an hour with Kennedy, I realized I needed to tell John everything about the baby. First because he simply needed to know about something this big that would affect us, and second because I almost spilled the beans to Kennedy a million times. Friends have a way of realizing when something big is happening in your life, and, well, this particular thing was going to tear me apart if I didn't tell someone soon.

I spent the entire time with Kennedy sitting on the floor of my apartment eating Chinese, all while he gave me suspicious looks and I skirted around the questions. I knew I wouldn't be able to do it very long, especially since in a few months, there would be absolutely no hiding it to anyone. I mean, a tiny human growing inside of you is not something that stays hidden. Between the small bump I could already see forming and the fact that the only way to even hide this was running, I knew it was do or die (figuratively, of course). I had promised myself and the guys that I was done with running, and if I was having this baby, I had to grow a pair and grow up.

Even after rationalizing all of this with myself, I somehow continued to put it off. Maybe it was that I was scared, and maybe it was because I just didn't want things to change once they were finally going so perfect, but every single time I opened my mouth to say something, nothing came out. Finally, I found myself sitting on my bed as he scrambled around my room, collecting and sorting all the things he'd need for the promotional trip to LA. Honestly, I have no clue how all of his shit ended up at my place, but I couldn't say I minded. But just the process of watching him stuff all of his things into a bag made me realize I was running out of time. The band left in a matter of hours, and if I didn't do it now, I'd have to wait god knows how long until I saw him again. It was now or never

"I have to talk to you about something," I blurted out as he pulled a duffel bag from the closet. I could feel my palms sweating as he paused and cocked an eyebrow at me. I knew I sounded hysteric and panicked, and I probably looked it, too. This was definitely not how I planned on doing this. Then again, I hadn't really planned any of the current situation.

"Okay, so shoot," he said, examining my eyes carefully as he set the bag down to open it.

I pushed myself to my feet paced back and forth a little, because I just couldn't sit still. I was terrified to meet his gaze. The uncertainty of the entire situation hit me right then, and my breathing shortened slightly. I could feel the tension building and I just couldn't take it. I felt like I was going to puke and then cry a little, which wouldn't be completely out of line all things considered.

"I know I've been sorta moody and more impossible than usual lately, and I haven't been feeling all that great lately, and I didn't think anything of it until Mia said something, and she was just joking, but even then I didn't think it could really be true, and I just..."

"You're scaring me, Shay," John said, his voice shaking a bit as he tried to laugh it off. He walked over and placed his hands gently on my shoulders, forcing me to stop in my tracks. "What's going on?"

His eyes were bearing into me so intensely, and I just couldn't look back and say what I needed to. I looked down at my feet, and my knees felt like they were buckling. "I'm pregnant."

John's hands fell off of me immediately, and I finally stole a glance up at his face, which appeared stuck in shock. I squeezed my eyes shut and waited for him to process everything. I knew if he felt anything like I had, he needed a minute. Seconds seemed to slow as I waited him to say something, anything. I didn't even know what I wanted to hear; I had been so worried about telling him that I hadn't thought much about what he would actually say. Maybe that it was going to be okay, and that we'd be okay. Maybe that we'd make it through this. Maybe even go so far that he was excited.

"W-what?" he stuttered out, and I took a deep breath, trying to keep myself from shaking.

"Pregnant, John. I'm pregnant," I repeated, my voice wavering. I hadn't said it out loud before this. I'd known about it for a week, and, I mean, I had time to process it, but saying it out loud was a whole new ballpark. It solidified it somehow, more so than that little pink plus sign had. It made it real, and it meant I had accepted this was happening, and it scared the shit out of me.

"How? When?"

"I know you know exactly how, John," I mumbled, looking from him back to the sandy carpeting. "And I don't know yet. Somewhere around six weeks I guess? I scheduled an appointment with a doctor for Monday to see."

I saw John push a hand through his already tousled hair from the corner of my eye, and we were silent for god knows how long. He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his face, and I stood there wordlessly, just watching and waiting. I raised my hand to my mouth and started to bite at my thumb nervously. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been so anxious ever.

"I have to pack," he said with a finality that scared me more than almost anything. He pushed himself off of the sheets, leaving wrinkles where his hands were, and I could feel my heart in my throat as he brushed past me and to the dressers.

"John, please don't do this," I begged, the words muffled against my hand. I watched helplessly as he shoved things into the open duffel bag on the bed, almost as if he hadn't heard my plea.

"Shayla, I... I just can't have this conversation right now. I have to go. I'm supposed to be at the label in an hour," he said through his clenched teeth, not even looking at me. I think that's what stung the most. I could feel the tears pricking the back of my eyes as he zipped the bag shut.

"We have to talk about this," I whispered desperately, trying to break through the walls he was suddenly putting up. "This isn't just some stupid fight about lost keys or a missed date. This is a baby, John. Our baby."

As soon as the last few words slipped out of my lips John froze, and his eyelids shut tight over his olive irises. I could feel my lungs stop working; my last breath caught painfully, almost hopefully in my throat. It felt like my heart was there right with it.

"I'll call you when things get settled," he said finally, throwing the strap over his shoulder and walking out of the room, just like that.

"You can't just leave like this!" I cried, my feet stuck to the ground as he walked toward the door; my voice lowered dangerously when I spoke again, filled with an angry, ironic humor. "God, you are such a hypocrite! You always accuse me of doing the running John, but this time, it's all you."

I could see him freeze for a moment, his back to me, and I could hear the sharp way he inhaled. I wished I could have seen his face; it would have given me a chance to gauge his reaction and know if I had made my point or just pissed him off. Instead, all I saw was the back of his hair, which he hadn't bothered to brush this morning.

Just as quickly as he stopped, he moved again and disappeared into the hallway. I collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down my face. My shoulders heaved as I curled up against the edge of the bed, my knees pulled close to my chest. I didn't know whether it was the ache in my throat as the sobs forced their way through or the gasping breaths between that I hated more. I did know that my heart slowly folding into itself was worse than either of those things, though. I didn't know what I had been expecting, but it wasn't that.



"D," Kennedy called, pounding on the door.

I had managed to crawl into my bed, but I wasn't sure how long it had been. It couldn't have been too long, because he was here instead of at the label, leaving for LA. I was too exhausted to answer his calls. Even if I did, I wasn't sure if he would've heard because my voice was hoarse from bawling uncontrollably. One of the disadvantages of this pregnancy thing was that things that were upsetting normally were the end of the world now.

The knocking got louder and more frantic, as did his voice. "Shay, c'mon I know you're home! If you don't answer, I'll break the fucking door down, I swear!"

He didn't have to though, John hadn't locked it when he left. The door flew open, and I could hear his footsteps as he searched the living room and kitchen for me. Finally, it sounded like he was full out running as my bedroom door was pushed aside so hard it hit the wall and bounced back.

"Oh, god, what's wrong?" he asked, rushing over. He sat down and pulled me into his arms, his face full of concern. "Daise, what happened?"

I shook my head before burying my face into his chest. How was I supposed to explain to him? He was the one to always freaked out, not John. So if John had reacted like he did, how the hell was I supposed to tell Kennedy? I wasn't ready for another fight or for him to walk away from me like John.

"Where's John?" he asked innocently enough, but it flooded my eyes with tears again. He caught on and his face morphed from worried to pissed. "What the hell did he do."

"It's not his fault," I croaked out quickly, shaking my head. "Well, maybe technically it is, but it's mine too."

"I'll kill him," Kennedy vowed, his grip on me tightening. My eyes widened and I shook my head violently.

"Like hell you will," I said, louder than intended. "Don't kill him. Don't do anything. It's all my fault."

"What is?"

It couldn't hurt now that John knew, right? I mean, Kennedy was family, and under normal circumstances, he was the one I wanted to tell everything first. He proved over and over again that he loved me regardless, and I let out a defeated sigh. I couldn't bring myself to look at him, though, as I slumped against him, completely exhausted.

"I'm pregnant."

I could feel him tense up immediately, but I didn't say anything. I just waited for him to yell or scream or storm out. At least from him, I sort of expected it. What I was waiting for never came, though. He stayed perfectly still beside me, his arms never letting go of me.

"Pregnant," he repeated slowly.

"Yeah."

"Does John know?" I couldn't find my voice, so I nodded. "I'm guessing he didn't take it so well if he's not here right now."

"You're dead on," I deadpanned.

"What happened?" I studied the pattern of Kennedy's flannel shirt for a few moments, trying to forget what was really going on. It seemed so easy to pretend we were still in high school sometimes, but I glanced at his face through my eyelashes and I was back in the real world, present time.

"I told him, and he said nothing for awhile. Then when he finally did talk, he said he had to finish packing, which he did, and then promptly left," I whispered, my voice wavering the whole way through.

"Shay..." Kennedy whispered, pulling me closer. I held onto him for dear life, my tears splashing onto my cheeks.

"Maybe I shouldn't have sprung this on him so soon," I said unevenly. "You guys have that thing in LA this weekend; you all have to be gone in like an hour, and I mean-"

"This isn't your fault," he assured me, his voice strong.

"I just thought he'd at least talk to me about it, but he wouldn't. He just shut down; god I feel so stupid and scared and overwhelmed," I admitted, hysteria seeping into my words.

"You aren't stupid Shay," Kennedy assured me, and I made a noise resembling a whimper. Everything I had been holding to myself since I found out, all of my fears and feelings, was all spilling out.

"I miss my mom, Kenny. This is one of those things I need her for, I mean, she would know what to say, and she would know how to make this not so terrifying. I need her so much, but she's not here, and I can't even talk to her! I miss her so fucking much," I choked out before my tears took complete control of me.

Kennedy held me and whispered words of comfort into my ear. He just stayed with me until finally I couldn't cry anymore, and that was enough. I was so thankful that he was there, because honestly, if my mom couldn't be here, he was one of the only other people I knew who could even attempt to console me.

"What time is it? Don't you have to meet at the label to hit the road?" I realized, my eyes darting to the clock ticking continuously on the wall.

"I'm not leaving until I know you'll be okay once I'm gone," he said, leaving no room for argument.

"You need to go," I argued anyway, sitting up and wiping my eyes. "I'm gonna be fine. It's just these stupid crazy hormones."

"We're going to go into the kitchen, and you're going to eat something first. Then I'll go," he said, and I rolled my eyes before following him.

He rummaged through my fridge and I knew it was best if I stayed out of his way. So I sat at the table and watched him, and as he knocked over a box of uncooked noodles and a can of soup, I knew I was going to be okay. Whatever happened with me and John and this baby, I was going to be okay because I wasn't alone in this. He finally ended up pulling out milk and retrieved the cereal from the cabinet. I stifled a laugh as he handed me the bowl and spoon and shoved some in my mouth.

"Happy?" I asked after I swallowed a bite, and he shrugged. The only noise for awhile was my chewing as we sat at my tiny table together.

"I want you to know that no matter what happens, I'm gonna be here for you and the baby," he said after awhile, and I looked up at him.

"I know. Thank you, for just being you Ken," I whispered, my voice still raspy. I hesitated, looking from him to the few lone pieces of cereal floating around the milk. "Please don't tell the guys or anyone else about it yet. I'm not ready for that."

"Okay. I won't say a word," he promised, and I nodded, swirling the spoon around in the milk.

"And please, don't say- or do- anything to John," I said, in a way that was more telling than asking. He opened his mouth to protest, but I shook my head. "No. I know you mean well, but this whole thing, it's between me and him, and you don't have to make him feel bad. He needs some space, so let him have it. Okay?"

"Okay," he said grudgingly, sticking his hands up in defense. "I won't say a word."

"Thank you."

He pushed back his chair and stood up, closing the distance between us and hugging me tight. "I'm gonna miss you."

"I'll miss you too. But this will be good for you. Kill it, okay?"

"Always," he assured me, a mischievous glint in his eyes for a moment before they turned serious. "And you take care of yourself and my little future godchild."

I rolled my eyes at him, but pulled him closer, not quite ready for him to leave. "I love you, Ken. I'll see you soon."

"I'll call when we get set up, and don't you be afraid to call if you need anything at all."

"Okay."

"I love you, D. Talk to you soon."

"Bye, K."

I watched him walk out of the door just like John had only an hour earlier, and I sucked in my breath as the loneliness washed over me. Unlike when John left, though, I didn't feel on my own. I took a deep breath and let it out, reminding myself that I was going to make it through this. I had no choice; it wasn't about me anymore. My hands wandered to my stomach, where a barely noticeable bump was, and through my cheeks stained with tears, my lips twitched up just the slightest. I could do this. I had to do this, ready or not.