Epilogue

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“What in the world is wrong with you, Daniel?” Chunk says, slapping her pen down on the table.

I pause the drumming of my fingers against the wooden tabletop. “Nothing.” I didn’t realize my nervousness was so obvious. Especially to a thirteen-year-old.

“Something’s wrong with you,” she says. She pushes her homework aside and folds her arms across the table, leaning forward. “Did you break up with Six?”

I shake my head. “No.”
“She break up with you?”
“Hell no,” I say defensively.
“Get in trouble at school?”
I shake my head and look down at the time on my phone. Ten more minutes and I’ll leave. I just need ten more minutes.

“You get her pregnant?” Chunk asks.
My eyes dart up to hers and my pulse increases. I technically can’t answer that with a no, because . . . well.

“Oh, my god,” Chunk says. “You got her pregnant? Daniel!

Mom and Dad are gonna kill you!”

She pushes away from the table just as my mother walks into the kitchen. Chunk’s hands go up to her mouth in disbelief and she’s shaking her head, still staring at me. She doesn’t know my mother is behind her now. “Daniel, are you stupid? I’m only thirteen, but even I know what safe sex is. Christ, I can’t believe you got her pregnant!”

I’m shaking my head, too flustered to tell her Six isn’t pregnant.

My mother is frozen, staring at me with wide eyes. She covers her mouth with her hand at the same moment my father walks into the kitchen. Chunk hears him and spins around.

“What’s wrong?” my father asks. “You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Before I have the chance to defend myself or dismiss the words that just came out of Chunk’s mouth, my mother turns to face my father. She points at me.

“He got her pregnant,” she whispers disbelievingly. “Your son got his girlfriend pregnant.”

My father stares silently at my mother. I know I should be standing up right now—denying everything before they all get too worked up, but everything they’re saying is technically true.

I did get Six pregnant.

However, that was over a year ago and none of them know about that, nor do they need to know about it. But Six sure as hell isn’t pregnant right now. I know that for a fact. We’ve been dating for over three months, and I’m sure it’ll be at least three more months before she allows me to break that bread.

I don’t like that analogy. Doesn’t even make sense.

Jump that fence?

Nah, that’s not sexy enough.

Cross that finish line?
Nope. It’ll be more like a starting line.
Tap that ass?
Meh. Too tacky.
Poke that potato?
“Daniel?” my father asks, pulling my gaze to his. He doesn’t look happy, but he also doesn’t look angry. Which is weird, since he’s just been told he’ll likely be a grandfather, and he’s only forty-five. He’s looking at me like he’s confused. “How can Six be pregnant?” he asks, shaking his head. “Every time you’re with her you still come home and take those embarrassingly long showers.”

I swear to God. Why do these people continue to bring that up?

I look over at Chunk and shake my head. “Six isn’t pregnant,” I tell all of them. “Chunk just has an overactive imagination.”

A collective sigh comes from the three of them. My mother slaps her hand to her heart and releases a quick “Oh dear good lord, Jesus Christ, holy shit, thank god!” She blows out a calming breath after her slew of blasphemy.

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