So, there I am the next day, freaking out because the medallion just won't do its thing. It's like it's suddenly decided to go on strike. I mean, this thing has been as reliable as the sun coming up, and now? Nothing. I'm kind of panicking on the inside but trying to keep it together as I head down to where my parents are hanging out in the kitchen. Jackson's there too, just doing his morning thing, totally clueless to the mini-crisis I'm lugging around.
"Hey, so, weird thing," I start, trying to sound casual as I toss the medallion from hand to hand, "the medallion's not working. Like, at all."
Mom and Dad exchange this look, you know, the kind they do when they're about to drop some parental wisdom on you. Dad's the one who breaks the news. "There's only one reason the medallion wouldn't work," he says, sounding more like a mystical guru than my dad for a second.
Jackson, who can't resist adding his two cents, jokes, "What, does it need new batteries or something?"
Mom's not having any of it, though. "It's no joke, Jackson. The medallion won't work if Kelsey is pregnant," she says, straight-faced and all serious.
You could hear a pin drop. Pregnant? My mind's racing a million miles an hour, but then it hits me—yesterday with Eric. Oh, no.
"But...that's not possible, right?" Dad's trying to keep things light, but we all know it's a big deal.
I feel like I'm about to faint or something. "Actually..." The words just tumble out. "Eric and I, we...yeah, we did."
The disappointment is clear as day on their faces. Mom's the first to speak up. "Kelsey, that was incredibly reckless of you," she says, and yeah, I feel about two inches tall right now.
"I thought we were being careful," I say, but even to me, it sounds weak.
Dad jumps in, "It's not just about being careful, Kelsey. It's about the consequences."
And Jackson, bless him, he's just as shocked as I am. "So, you're saying Kelsey could be pregnant just from yesterday?"
"Exactly," Mom confirms, and the room suddenly feels way too small.
So, we're all standing there, trying to wrap our heads around this bombshell, when Mom brings up another whopper. If I'm really pregnant, I can't turn back into Jeremy for at least a year. A whole year. My heart sinks.
"But what about Jeremy?" I ask. "How can we just explain him vanishing?"
"That's the thing," Mom says, her tone all business now. "We'll use the medallion to make it so Jeremy never existed. Kelsey has always been the only one."
The idea of erasing Jeremy, even if just from everyone else's memory, is too much. "What about my friends? Eric?" I can barely get the words out.
Dad reassures me, "They won't remember Jeremy. Only we, and Eric, will know the truth."
It's a lot to take in. The thought of being without Jeremy's part of me, even if it's just in everyone else's eyes, is heartbreaking. And then there's Eric. How's he going to take all this? Not just the pregnancy but the whole Jeremy never existing bit?
In a daze, I retreat to my room, my fingers fumbling over the screen of my phone as I summon the words that might change everything. "Eric, we need to talk. Can you come over now?" The message feels both monumental and entirely insufficient, but before I can second-guess it, I hit send.
His reply comes quickly, a simple, "On my way," that does nothing to steady the tumult inside me. Minutes tick by, each one stretching longer than the last until I hear the soft sound of the front door swinging open.
I'm halfway down the stairs when Eric steps into the hallway, his eyes immediately finding mine. There's a momentary flicker of confusion, then surprise. "Wow, Kelsey's still here," he tries to joke, attempting to cut through the tension with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Yeah," I start, my voice a fragile thing in the quiet of the entryway. "Turns out, I'll be Kelsey for quite a bit longer." The words are heavier than I expected, laden with a significance I'm still trying to accept.
His smile falters, replaced by a look of concern. "Why? What's happened?" The casual tone is gone now, his posture tensing as if preparing for a blow.
I take a deep breath, the air feeling thick in my lungs. "Eric, I'm pregnant," I say, the words dropping like stones into the silence between us.
For a moment, Eric just stares, his face going through a rapid succession of emotions—shock, disbelief, worry—before settling on a stunned sort of acceptance. "Pregnant?" he repeats after a beat, the word sounding foreign as it hangs in the air.
"Yeah," I confirm, my heart pounding so loudly I can barely hear my own voice. "We...we're going to have a baby."
Eric steps closer, his movements hesitant as if he's navigating through uncharted territory. "Okay," he says slowly, clearly trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "Okay, we can figure this out. We'll figure it out together."
His words, meant to reassure, somehow make it all the more real. We're standing on the precipice of a life-altering change, one neither of us planned for but one we'll navigate together. The reality of our situation settles around us, a tangible thing, and I realize that no matter what comes next, everything has irrevocably changed.
Standing there, with everything changing around me, I've never felt more lost. The medallion was supposed to be this amazing thing, a gift. Now? It feels like the heaviest burden. As I look into my parents' eyes, filled with worry and disappointment, I realize nothing's ever going to be the same. And I have no idea how to deal with what comes next.
The silence that follows my confession stretches out, thick and palpable. Eric looks like he's been hit by a bolt of lightning, his entire body going rigid. "Pregnant?" The word comes out strangled, disbelief etching every syllable.
"How... How can you be sure so soon?" he stammers, his shock evolving into a desperate search for some kind of misunderstanding, some error in my revelation.
Taking a deep, steadying breath, I brace myself for the explanation. "The medallion, Eric. It didn’t work this morning." I hold it out, a physical testament to the truth of my words. "There’s a rule—a condition—it doesn’t change you back if you're pregnant."
He blinks, trying to process this curveball. "But that's... Are you sure there's no mistake?"
I shake my head, a mixture of resignation and fear settling in. "And we...we didn't use anything, Eric. We weren’t careful enough." The admission is harder to say out loud than I anticipated, each word a confirmation of our oversight, our lapse in judgment amidst the heat of the moment.
Eric's face crumples, the initial shock giving way to a dawning realization of the gravity of our situation. "I...God, Kels, I didn’t think—" He cuts off, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration and disbelief.
"We didn’t think," I correct him softly, feeling the weight of our choices bearing down on us both.
For a moment, we just stand there, caught in the reality of what I've just said, the future unfurling before us in uncertain waves. Eric's initial shock slowly morphs into a pensive kind of acceptance. "Okay," he finally says, his voice firmer now, edged with a resolve I hadn't expected. "Okay, we'll deal with this. Together."
Our fragile moment of resolve is shattered by the sound of footsteps. Dad appears in the hallway, his presence like a sudden storm cloud. The air thickens as he locks eyes with Eric, and the look he gives him could freeze fire. Without a word, he signals Eric to follow him, the silent command heavy in the air. "Eric, with me. Now," Dad says, his voice brooking no argument. Eric casts me a worried glance before trailing after my dad, tension rolling off him in waves.
I linger in the doorway, heart pounding, as their voices carry from the living room. Dad's voice is a low rumble of thunder, disappointment and anger intermingling in a way I've never heard before. "I trusted you, Eric," he says, each word punctuated with a weight that makes me wince. "You were like a son to me...and now? You've gotten my daughter pregnant. How could you be so irresponsible?"
Eric's response is barely audible, a muffled attempt at explanation or apology that doesn't seem to find its mark. Dad’s anger crescendos, filling the space with a palpable fury. "You had no right to be so reckless with her future," he continues, his voice rising. "We welcomed you into our home, into our family, and this is how you repay us?"
The words cut through me, sharp and cold. I lean against the wall, feeling like an intruder on this raw, painful exchange. Dad's voice, usually so calm and steady, now vibrates with a rage that sends shivers down my spine. The disappointment in his tone is worse than any shouting could ever be.
Eric tries to speak up, his voice stronger this time, but it's clear he's fighting a losing battle. "I'm sorry, I...we didn't think. I know I've messed up, but I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."
Their conversation, if it can be called that, continues, a one-sided barrage of anger and betrayal. I can only imagine the guilt and shame Eric must be feeling, standing there under the weight of my dad's fury. As much as my heart aches for Eric, for us, I can't help but feel a deep, unsettling fear for what comes next.
After what feels like an eternity, the voices quiet down, leaving a heavy silence in their wake. I'm frozen, unsure of what to do, what to say, how to somehow make this better. The reality of our situation, the consequences of our actions, feels more daunting than ever. And as I stand there, alone yet surrounded by the echoes of my dad's anger, I can't shake the feeling that everything has just irrevocably changed.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
