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teenage years.
    There was no way to make a comeback from the painful stabbing feeling his comments induced. I just wanted to be back home, living the nightmare I was already in, rather than this whole new one I had created for myself in Texas. I desperately wanted to run away. I wanted to ask my Aunt Beth to come get me that first night, but I chose to suck it up and stick it out at my dad’s
    I stayed at my father’s for three days, instead of running away like I felt he had when I was a baby. The whole time I was there, it felt like he didn’t make a single feeble attempt to connect with me or even show me his town. The majority of the time I was there I watched TV, my only source of southern comfort. I had hoped he would take me to see a few sites or maybe hit up a cheap diner to try the local food. But, no. Nothing. Sadly, the visit was not the exploration of self or family history that I had hoped it would be. My dad closed himself off emotionally, so I physically shut myself in his room where I spent most of my time.
    The visit dragged into Thanksgiving. I had never wished to be home more than when I found myself sadly pushing boxed mashed potatoes around my plate. I imagined my family in Pennsylvania sitting around the table as I reached for a glass of water to swallow the dry turkey in front of me. For the first time in my life, I fully appreciated the always-enjoyable homemade food we always had for the holiday. Did I really miss home? I never imagined I would feel that way.
    The whole experience couldn’t have been more different than what I had imagined it would be like. I had started looking for my dad years earlier. Once I had even gone on one of those people finder sites to locate him and asked my mom to pay the twenty-five dollars to obtain locked information. The information I got was about a man who earned a six-figure salary, who had no family in the surrounding area. The great power of the Internet only feeds you so much, if you don’t have much information to begin with. The identity and background of the man it gave me, was not my father, but I had wanted so badly to believe it was that I built the rest of my fantasy around that illusion.
    Despite all the negativity, I decided it was time to forget about the bad and concentrate on the good. The one bright spot of the trip was that I learned I had another blood relative. My half-sister, Mikaila Rae. Instead of wallowing in the past, I would focus on the future. I had a baby on the way and a boyfriend with whom I wanted to start building a future. Also, I now had a sister, someone untainted by the drama of our unconventional family. Maybe together we could rise above all this dysfunction and be a family.

Chapter 7
    Fat or Pregnant?
    16 and Pregnant showed only a small part of my story. There are so many little details from that period of my life that I wish could have been shown. Like the fact that I was the only pregnant girl in a very small high school, which made my stomach stick out a bit—both figuratively and literally. Or that the desks at school were too small for my big belly to fit comfortably into, which felt like a big joke at my expense. Or all the ignorant babble and gossip about me. The only thing worse than being stuck in one of those desks, was having to put up with the all the stares and whispers.
    “Is she just fat or is she pregnant?”
    My classmates actually had the audacity to approach my friends with that question. Wasn’t my round belly obvious enough? But the ignorance of my peers was the least of my problems. I could handle shocking or disappointing them, but there was one person I didn’t want to let down. He was my favorite teacher and the only mentor I ever had.
    Mr. Koser was one of the few adults I trusted. I had been in his web design class for two years and during that time we had grown close. For the first time in my life I had been able to open up to someone. He knew about my issues with my mother, but never