What's a Girl to Do? (Season 2)

Chapter One: Reckless Understanding

As the hours flew by as I returned to the United States, I found myself growing more and more worried for my unborn child. Due to my recklessness, I'd gotten pregnant either on the fourteenth or fifteenth of August, meaning that it was a free for all at this point. I knew I would have to get a DNA test while still pregnant, and knew it could be done as early as the eighth week, meaning that I had to wait another month. Another month, which would mean potentially bonding with this child, and likely having it taken from me.

I checked my phone again as I arrived within the Chicago city limits in mid-morning on Sunday, knowing full well that I must look like a wreck, but desperate to know what this letter said. I drove to the house, parking outside and grabbing my things from the back of the car and making my way up the stairs of the house. As I fumbled for my keys, the front door open and Ian stood there, just staring at me for a moment. When I opened my mouth to speak, Ian merely closed the distance between us and held me for a moment. I didn't cry; I didn't need to cry; I just needed to be close to my twin for a moment.

"We've been waiting all weekend," Ian said quietly, breaking the silence as I pulled away from him and stepped into the house, allowing him to take my duffel and purse and place them on the stairs. He followed me into the living room, and I saw Fiona, Lip, Debbie and Franny, Carl, and Liam all staring at me.

"Hey, guys," I said, wandering over to a chair and sitting down, Ian automatically following me and presumably standing guard. "Look, I'm sorry. I had to take care of something in a hurry. I'm going to try and be more open about things in the future." I turned to Fiona then, who looked the most concerned for me. "Fiona... Can we have a moment, please?" I asked, and, at last, my voice broke for, if anything, I needed my big sister right then.

"Of course," Fiona replied, getting to her feet.

I followed, clasping Ian's hand for a moment before I left, and Fiona put her arm around my shoulders and led me out to the back porch. I shut the door behind us and turned to face her, and noticed that her eyes were red-rimmed—either from lack of sleep or crying, I didn't know. "I just want you to know, first of all, that I love you."

Fiona sighed, pulling her fingers though her dark hair. "I love you, too, Murph," she replied. "I just... I want you to just go ahead and tell me, okay? I mean, you're not... You're not dying or something like that, are you?"

"No, I promise you that," I said, stepping forward and taking her hand. "I am perfectly healthy, that I can say."

"And what can't you say?" she asked, watching my face.

I sighed. "I can't say that I'm scared," I replied.

"Scared?" Fiona asked. "Why would you be scared?"

"Because I'm pregnant," I replied, and Fiona automatically covered her mouth. "I'm pregnant, and I know that yours and Debbie's relationship hasn't been the same since she decided to keep her baby, and—"

Fiona cut me off then, pulling me into her arms. "The circumstances are entirely different here, Murph," she said gently. "You have a degree, a good job, a great income..."

I pulled back then. "No, you don't understand," I replied, dashing the tears out of my eyes. "I don't know who the father is."

"Murph?" Fiona asked.

I sighed, gripping the side of the house. "It could be Lip's," I whispered. "There's a possibility that it could be someone else's, but it might be Lip's..."

"Oh, my god," Fiona whispered. "What about the other possibility?"

I scoffed, looking away from her, the shame washing over me as the tears continued to fall down my face. "It could be Mickey's," I replied.