"That's not a good idea. Things are a little hectic at home right now," he quickly shut me down, tone hushed now. "I'll just see you at the game tomorrow, okay? You're still coming, right? We can hang out afterwards. Besides, your dad flies back into town tonight, right? You guys should spend some time together."

"Oh, yeah, okay." Blinking back the tears that were filling my eyes, I nodded. "Uh-huh. I'll be there."

"Okay." He sighed in contentment. "I love you, Dolly."

"I love you, too, D," I squeezed. "Bye."

Ending the call before I had a meltdown, I quickly dialed Mercy's number.

"Hey, it's me," I sniffled when she answered. "I could really use a ride to that appointment if the offer's still on the table?"

"Of course." She sighed softly. "I'm on my way, bitch."

43 Daryl

It was the night before state, and my mind was racing with a million thoughts a minute. Problem was, not a single one of those thoughts consisted of tomorrow night's football game.

No, I couldn’t think about tomorrow because I was too busy trying to survive tonight.

Instead of sitting down to prayer-led dinner with my family like the rest of my teammates were currently enjoying, I was attempting to navigate my way through the shitstorm that had settled over my head.

Hell, never mind a shitstorm; a category five hurricane had blown through our kitchen and was heading straight for me.

Apparently, Martha fucking Thomas sought out my mother at the store this afternoon to tell her all about the terrible rumor's her little angel Ashley had been hearing about me at school.

According to Ashley, not only was I dating Molly Peterson, but apparently, I had managed to knock her up, too.

"Is that her?" Mom demanded, hands on her hips, as she followed me into the hallway. "On the phone with you now?"

Thankful that Molly had already ended the call, I slid my phone back into my jeans pocket. "Are we done talking about this? Can I go now?"

"Can you go?" Mom's eyes bulged. "No, you cannot go, Daryl."

"I've already told you that it's bullshit," I replied, jaw ticking. "I didn’t get anyone pregnant, Mama."

"Get your ass in this kitchen, boy, or I'll drag you in here kicking and screaming!" Wren roared from the doorway, treating me like I had been caught trying to steal the crown jewels.

I'd like to see you fucking try, I thought to myself.

Mom, hot on her darling husband's heels, was coming in a strong second, as she pointed her manicured finger in my face. "Wren's right. You're going to sit your ass down and explain to us why Ashley would make something like this up."

And then there was my little sister Sophie, who was sobbing into her hands at the kitchen table.

Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket and I was done.

I was completely fucking done with these people.

"You are not to see that girl again," Mom screamed into my face. "Pregnant or not, I don’t want you to go anywhere near her."