One Last Thing Before I Go

up the EPT, and issuing some heartfelt confession that would earn her the respect and sympathy of everyone in the room.
You think you’re scared? Check this shit out!
And after she finished, and Justin Ross came up with his black eye shadow and his guitar to sing Green Day’s “Good Riddance,” there wouldn’t be a dry eye in the room, and she would become something of a local legend.
    When she was done, the auditorium erupted into the standard canned applause, and she saw her mother and Rich beaming at her. And way in the back of the room, against all odds, Silver, in jeans and black button down, standing against the wall, clapping. So when the tears came, as she made her way back to her seat, she couldn’t be quite sure exactly what she was crying about. Take your pick, right?

CHAPTER 6
    “H ow’dyour mother take it?”
    “She’s OK.”
    “Really?”
    “I haven’t exactly told her.”
    “Ah. Smart move.”
    “You’re the only person I’ve told.”
    “OK.”
    “How does that make you feel?”
    “You sound like my therapist.”
    “You still go to therapy?”
    “Nah. I gave up years ago.”
    “Mental health isn’t for everyone.”
    “Neither is contraception.”
    “Well played, Silver.”
    “Have you made a decision?”
    “I decided I’m an asshole.”
    “How far along are you?”
    “Not very. When do you count from?”
    “I don’t know. Conception, I think.”
    “So, three weeks or so.”
    “OK. So you have a little time.”
    “What do you think I should do?”
    “I think you should probably have an abortion.”
    “Wow, Dad. That didn’t take very long, did it?”
    “You asked me what I thought—”
    “I mean, just come right out and say what you think, Dad.”
    “I just did.”
    “No thought at all to the life I have growing inside me.”
    “Is that how you see it? As a life, I mean?”
    “Yes. No. Sometimes. I don’t know. How do you see it?”
    “How I see it doesn’t matter. You have to do what feels right to you.”
    “What feels right to me is not being pregnant.”
    “Don’t cry, honey.”
    “Don’t tell me not to cry. I hate that.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “I mean, Jesus, Dad. This is like, the perfect time to cry. I’m fucking pregnant.”
    “You’re right. I’m sorry.”
    “Can you tell me something?”
    “Sure.”
    “Does it upset you that I’m not a virgin?”
    “It upsets me that you’re not seven years old anymore. It upsets me that I blinked and you’re already a woman, and I’ve missed a million moments I can never get back. It upsets me that I was a lousy father. You deserved better than that. But as for your virginity . . . I guess I just assumed that you were active by now. So no, that doesn’t upset me.”
    “OK.”
    “Are you crying again?”
    “A little.”
    “You don’t have to decide today.”
    “I don’t want to decide. I want someone else to decide for me.”
    “What does the, um, father say?”
    “There is no father, because there’s no baby. Just a cluster of cells that, left to its own devices, might turn into one.”
    “OK. So you don’t feel the need to tell him.”
    “Look at you, identifying with the father. Seriously?”
    “You just said there is no father.”
    “There isn’t. It’s an immaculate cluster.”
    “I’m not identifying with anyone. I’m just trying to keep up.”
    “Well, try harder. Hey! Where are you going?”
    “I’m going to get another ice-cream cone. You want one?”
    “Two ice-cream cones in one sitting? Seriously? What’s your cholesterol like?”
    “It’s a special occasion, right?”
    “Yeah. I’m going to go now.”
    “Did I say something wrong?”
    “Well, in your defense, there is no right thing to say.”
    “Will you let me help you?”
    “I might. Maybe you already have. I don’t know. I have to go be by myself and process all of this.”
    “If you decide on an abortion, I’ll take you, OK?”
    “There you go, stumping for the abortion again.”
    “I’m just saying, if you don’t want to involve your mom and Rich.”
    “Yeah, it would suck for you if Rich got to take me.”
    “I’m sorry I offered.”
    “Don’t be. I’d have written you off for good if you didn’t.”
    “Then why are you giving me shit for it?”
    “Because you deserve shit, Dad. Because you’re a shitty father, and just because you get to bail me out of this now, that doesn’t change anything.”
    “So I do get to bail you out?”
    “I was speaking hypothetically. In