After the maid discovered two condom wrappers in her garbage, Lorelai had sworn she'd leave nothing incriminating at home. The maid had eventually promised not to tell her parents, but it cost her twenty dollars a week.

Thinking of all the fries and milkshakes she'd sacrificed to one snoop, Lorelai took the test at school. The bathroom's live-in smokers glared at her as her foot tapped against the fake marble. The box had said ten minutes and if it took any longer than fifteen she was going to be late to English.

Later, sitting in English, she pretended to take notes, but all she could do was write 'pink' over and over again, in her practiced loopy handwriting. Jillian leaned over their desks and asked if she was going with Christopher to the dance on Friday. "That was the plan," said Lorelai, sharper than she meant to, but oh god, Christopher. She had to tell him. And her friends. And her parents.

She asked if she could go to the bathroom and then she left, walking straight through the school and all the way to the bus stop.

*

She pulled her suitcase out of the closet, rolling her eyes at the floral print her mother had picked out. Between death and being seen with that bag, she'd usually choose death. But now.

It had been pink.

She ignored most of her closet. There was no way after the things they'd said that she was taking anything of theirs.

"You're keeping it?" her mother said, shocked. "Don't be ridiculous, Lorelai. You can't even straighten your room properly."

Instead she concentrated on gifts, taking out the soft, cashmere sweater Kim bought for her birthday and the hideous jumper her Aunt had sent for Christmas. She took the bracelet from Chris, the silver one with tiny, sparkly pearls, even though, she hated him. Yes, she definitely hated him, she decided.

All boys were a waste of time. After all, it'd been his idea, not hers. She wasn't the one who'd put the condom on either and he'd promised he knew how to do it right. Lorelai hoped with an intensity that scared her, a little, that the baby would be a girl.

The suitcase shut with a click and she picked it up easily. Testing its weight, she realized she could just dump all her things in a shopping bag. It was a little too travelling hobo, but she liked the thought of leaving without anything of her parents. She could be like a snail in its shell, living entirely out of herself.

Climbing out the window was second nature by then, but this time, she took extra care with each step, using one hand to protect her stomach from the cherry treešs thin branches and the edge of the windowsill.

At the end of the block she stole a look back at the house. No, she knew she wouldn't miss it at all.

Not when she finally had something of her own.