"She's pregnant!" Leah says, washing off the dishes from dinner. "There is a child inside her, and she's sixteen years old! I didn't even know she was having sex. Did you know that? Never mind, don't answer that. You don't even know her."
Chris just sits at the table, listening to Leah rant continuously about Samantha.
"How did I not notice this? How in the world did this just slip by me? I knew when she started smoking, when she tried her first drink; heck, I was there! And I know she never did it again because she hated both of those. She would tell me everything. There were never secrets between us. Now she's in a hospital getting checked to see if the baby she's had for three months is okay!"
"Leah--"
"And another thing: where was she getting this done? My father very rarely let her out of his sight because he knew how much of a rebellious teenager she was becoming. I know she wouldn't even dare to do it in the house. Not even I dared to do it in the house. That was arranging my own death bed right there. Unless...Unless she lied about one of her sleepovers."
"Leah, can you--"
"And Mr. Neeson, of all people! I mean, come on. The man's not even handsome! But that's beside the point. What in God's name was her History teacher doing in her pants? If she wanted it, I guess I can't say anything because it was with her consent. But he's her teacher! Do yu know what that could start at her school when people figure out she's the History teacher's baby mama?"
"Hey--"
"I cannot even believe--"
"Will you shut the hell up?! Please?!"
Leah shuts her mouth, but her rant continues in her mind.
"Your mad. I get that. But it was three damn days ago! How can you still be talking about it?" Chris gets up and goes to the fridge. He takes out a beer from the bottom shelf.
"Because no matter what, she's my baby sister. I can't stand here and think that in nine months, Sam will be lying in a hospital bed in painful labor. I'm not a mother, but I know birth is not at all fun."
"So abort it, then. She has that option, right?"
"Not as long as she lives with my father. He's against that kind of thing. If we even think of killing a child before it's born, he will most likely end up hating you. That child is going to see the light if he has to fight for it." She finishes the last of the dishes and turns off the water. She presses her hands to each side of the sink, using it for support.
Chris stands there quietly, sipping his beer as always. He watches as she tries to collect herself.
"I just...I've never been in a situation this bad before. I don't know how to handle it." She closes her eyes and takes deep, slow breaths. Unsuccessful, tears begind to stream down her face and fall into the sink below her. She covers her face and sobs into her hands. She doesn't understand why she's overreacting, but she is, and it's drained her in the past three days.
After a few minutes, she feels a nudge at her arm. She looks up, her eyes red and face wet with tears.
Chris is handing her a napkin, his face...something between a "You're being ridiculous" and an apologetic look.
She takes the napkin and quietly thanks him. He turns around and walks away, headed for the couch and the TV remote.
As Leah watches him walk away, she feels something strange to her. It's almost like she didn't want him to leave. Since when does she care if he cares or not? He never cares. He just sits around, eats, watches sports, and only go out when Leah's going out. It's nothing new that he left her to cry by herself. So why did she want him to stay?
And why was he being nice to her? She still doesn't understand that. She was so prepared to deal with an angry, ungrateful asshole. And he was, but only for the first few days. Maybe he was right. Maybe he really does want to change.
Or maybe her father was right.
That thought in mind, she turns off the kitchen light and goes to her room. She closes the door behind her. Her pajamas are already on the bed, so she changes into them and slides in under the covers. Hoping to fall asleep quickly, she closes her eyes and lets out a relaxing breath. Unfortunately, sleep is not ready to hit her yet.
She thinks about what her father said. "How can he go through his sentence without revenge in his mind?" Maybe he did have some kind of revenge in his mind, she thinks I mean, I've never been in jail. Thank God. But if I did go to jail, I would be pretty pissed at my lawyer. I read Chris' profile. He did win every single case. Well, my father did, but that's not the point. The point is: Chris was positive he was going to get out of this. I would be, too. And then to lose the last of them all. That should've really pissed him off, especially with those anger issues.
Leah decides to put the thought to the side. She can't think about that now. She finally called Tom Hiddleston back about the assistant job. She needs to make some sort of deal with him. She wants this job, but she won't be able to do it for another year. She needs the sleep for tomorrow, so she clears her head to fall asleep.
And, yet again, Chris enters her head.
She's been trying to figure out what happened with Robert. He wanted to kiss her. He was going to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him, too. But, all of a sudden, she started thinking about Chris. In that moment, her mind just decided to make her remember all the good things that have been happening between her and Chris. He's not exactly on her Favorites list. So why did he invade her mind at the best part of the night?
It wasn't just that time. He's been in her head ever since the date. She keeps thinking about his blue eyes, his golden hair, his fantasticly-chiseled body. And the fact he can cook and is artistic makes Leah...smile. She saw what he turned the Play-Doh into. It was a little gun, but it was so finely detailed and accurate, she wouldn't have been surprised if you could fire an actual bullet from it. He's talented, and Leah likes that.
She can't get Chris out of her head, and she has no idea why.
Leah pulls out the pillow from under her head, presses it to her face, and screams as loud and long as possible. She then returns it under her head, turns off her lamp, and tries her hardest to fall asleep.
