the scientist - coldplay

"School starts next week, Hope," Layla whined over FaceTime.

"You don't have to remind me," I grunted. Just thinking about going back to school had me trembling in anxiety. I did not want to go.

All of a sudden, my mom knocked on the door and stuck her head in. "Layla, I'll call you back."

"Hi, honey." She sat on the ottoman at the end of my bed.

"Hi, Momma." I was totally confused about why she was here.

"I just wanted to ask you what day you wanted to go back to school shopping." She was absentmindedly folding the clothes that I had forgotten to put away. It was a habit she had, I guess, from always cleaning up after four kids.

"Whenever you're free," I spoke as she picked up my jean jacket. That's when I remembered that I had wrapped the pregnancy test up and stuffed it in the pockets of that jacket. It had been the most random place I could think of to put it.

"Here, Momma." I frantically stood up and tried to grab the jacket from her hands.

"Hope, how many times do I have to tell you to stop leaving stuff in your pockets? I'm tired of finding pens in my washing machine." She scolded. I wish it was a pen.

"Momma," I began. My heart was beating so fast that I wouldn't be surprised if I had a heart attack. She was going to find the test. Oh, my God, I was dead. She was going to kill me.

As she reached her hand into the pocket, I felt like the whole world froze. If my floor could open up and swallow me whole, it would be the greatest thing ever.

"Hope..." She held the test in her hands and stared down at it. I couldn't tell if she was shaking or I was shaking so hard that I couldn't see straight. "Is this yours?"

"Mom-"

"Is this yours? Yes or no?" Her eyebrows were scrunched together, and her green eyes were filled with worry and anger. My mom's tone was rarely this harsh, and that's how I knew how bad I fucked up.

"Yes," my voice broke.

"Dear God." Her hand rose to cover his mouth, and her eyes teared up.

"Mom, please." My bottom lip was trembling as she looked at me with disappointment. I didn't want her to find out like this. Fuck, I didn't want her to have to ever know.

"Hope... I don't even know what to say to you." She wiped the lone tear that had begun to fall with her perfectly manicured fingers. "Who's is it?"

"What?"

"Who is the father, Hope?"

"A-Are you serious?" I could not believe that she was asking me this question. Who was the father? There was only one person that it could be.

"Is it Connor's baby?"

"No, Mom. It's Jack's baby." At those words, she threw her head back and began to silently sob. I guess we know who the favorite is.

"What is going on here?" My dad stood at the door with his mouth slightly agape. Oh shit.

Without a word, my mom held up the pregnancy test in the air. I was in complete shock. My heart was racing, but at the same time, I felt like it was barely beating. I was holding my breath and hoping that if I didn't make a noise, my parents would just forget I was here.

"Hope Christine Stryker." Guess not.

"I-"

"Do not say a word." My dad's fists were clenched by his sides, and the vein on his forehead was beginning to become noticeable. I was in deep shit, like the deepest shit there ever was.

"How far along are you?" My mom asked after what felt like years of silence.

"Probably close to eight weeks." That was the first thing I thought about as soon as I read the word 'Pregnant' on the test. Honestly, though, I wasn't sure how far along I was, eight weeks was just a guess.

Both of their heads snapped up, "Hope, why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't know what to do, Dad. I knew y'all would freak out like this, and I didn't want to disappoint you." As I spoke, the tears that I had been holding in for so long started to fall. The dam had finally broken. "I don't want to have a baby."

"Oh, Hope. Come here." My mom stood up and wrapped her arms around me. How was I supposed to be a mom when I still needed my own mom? I couldn't raise a baby.

"I can't have a baby, Mom. I can't do it," I sobbed. She ran her fingers through my hair and kissed the top of my head. I was so scared.

My dad came over and sat next to me on my bed. "Hope," he cleared his throat. "You have to have the baby."

My heart lurched to a stop. My parents had grown up as Southern Baptists, and I knew that they were against the idea of abortion, but I never thought they wouldn't let me have one, especially in this situation.

"W-what?" I sat up and wiped the snot running from my nose. Gross.

"Listen, this past spring, the state legislature passed a law stating that any abortions past six weeks were illegal." My dad spoke slowly and softly, something extremely unusual for him. He was speaking like I was a kindergartener, and although that would usually piss me off, I was grateful for his patience at this moment.

"What does that mean, though?"

"You have to have this baby, Hope. I know you're scared, and you don't want to, but you are going to have to."

I was speechless. Ever since I found out I was pregnant, the only thing that was bringing me some sort of peace was the possibility of me having an abortion. I was not capable of raising a baby, and I didn't know if my body could handle the stress of a pregnancy. But now, there was no way out.

Neither my parents nor I spoke. I sat wrapped up in their arms and tried not to think too hard about the months to come. My mind was going a mile and minute, and all I wanted was to shut it off. In seven months, I was going to be a mom. I had to decide whether I could keep this baby and grow up, or put the baby up for adoption. Could I carry a baby full term and then give it up?

I don't know when my parents left, but as my mind started to slow down, I realized I was alone. I needed someone here. I needed someone to distract me and help me calm down. I needed him.

'Connor.' I texted.

'H?' He responded almost immediately.

'I need you.'

'I'm on the way.'