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No matter how close a girl is to her father, I doubt even a single one would want her dad to catch a guy jumping out of her window and scurrying off one morning. But since nothing about my freaking life is predictable, this is exactly what happens to me.

Thankfully, Xavier is already so far away from my house that my dad cannot possibly grab him by the neck and murder him in my porch. He might end up murdering me, though. Or I might just hang myself from the fan and save him the trouble.

"That ..." I force a loud laugh. "Wow, what is he doing here? I mean ..." I continue to laugh.

Dad shoots me a look and I stop suddenly, sounding like I was just punched in the gut. I clear my throat and lower my gaze to my feet, wishing the ground beneath me would split open and devour me whole.

Why, God, why?

Girls can have boyfriends. Girls can drink, and party, and sleep around. Girls can lose their virginity at sixteen. Here I have sex for the first time in my life and dad finds out? Seriously?

I don't know whether to be scared or feel relieved when dad heads silently for the door standing open. A part of me wants him to forget what he saw -- or maybe that I even exist -- while another part wishes he would tell me what he's thinking. If he wants to scold me, just let us get it over with, shall we?

He doesn't say anything though, entering the house without a backward glance my way. I follow silently, my fingers knotted together and my head bowed low. Trudging into the house like a prisoner, I stop in the kitchen doorway, glancing up awkwardly to see what my dad is doing.

I'm surprised to see him calmly sit down at the table and pick up his fork.

"Your egg's cold," he says, shocking me.

What universe is this where dads are no longer ... dad-ish?

Swallowing hard and feeling increasingly uncomfortable, I slowly walk to my seat in front of dad, sitting down and looking at him with a mixture of fear and confusion.

Maybe he's going to pretend he didn't just find out what I know he knows. Maybe I can pretend the same and we'll never have to talk about it. Maybe we can both continue pretending whatever we are pretending right now for the rest of our lives and go on living like nothing happened.

"Do you want --?"

"He wasn't here, okay?" I cry out, suddenly jumping.

Dad looks up at me, a wary expression on his face, and I'm pretty sure I've morphed into a ripe tomato at this point. I lower my gaze to the untouched plate of food in front of me and hear dad sigh.

"Haley ..." he begins slowly.

"I'm sorry," I mumble to my hands.

There is a moment of silence. I hate this kind of silence, unable to tolerate it between my dad and I. We have always been able to talk about everything, and now, for the first time, I feel like there is a veil between us, blinding each of us from the other's perspective.

"You know how old I was when I had you?" dad asks suddenly.

The unexpected question makes my gaze snap up towards him, and I see my dad giving me a tender smile.

"I was nineteen," he answers his own question. "And your mom was eighteen."

Okay, I know that, but I don't know why he's telling me this all of a sudden. I expected dad to tell me what a disgrace I am, not share with me the story of how he had me when he was probably still in college.

"What?" I gasp, not understanding what my dad is trying to say.

"Haley ... I know this is not a conversation for a father and daughter to have," he says, leaning forward to speak to me as softly as possible. "But since it has always been you and me, I want you to know that you can still talk to me about anything. No matter how old you are, you'll always be my little girl."

I stare at my father in disbelief, dumbfounded by his calm tone. This is the last thing I had expected.

"Your mom and I ... we were in high school together," dad tells me. "And when your mom told me she was expecting you, I think we both knew she wanted me to say 'oh, that's terrible'. The truth is, though ... I loved you since before you came into the world."

I blink, lost for words.

"It was hard at first, yes." Dad smiles. "Your mom had to drop out after high school, and when we got married, your grandparents were anything but happy."

This is the first time I have heard dad mention his parents, or my mom's for that matter.

"I went to college, but I still had to work two jobs to get the food on the table for you and your mom," dad says, still smiling like he's talking about some of his happiest memories. "And then, before we knew it, you were all grown up. You were going to preschool, and ... I think being alone at home when we were both busy in our lives, made your mom a little bitter."

A little?

"She kind of blamed me," dad continues with a sigh. "Her parents were pretty rich and they always told her what a mistake she made by marrying me. I think it was around that time that she ... began to believe it."

Why is my dad telling me all this?

"No wonder she hates me," I guess.

If my mom had to drop out of high school because she had me, and she had to scrape things by, with my dad working two jobs and going to college, it's kind of understandable that she would blame me for all of it. Though I could say, I didn't ask to come into this world, did I? I never asked her to do any of that for me.

"Haley, your mom loved you," he says. "She really did, and she still does. But things ... were complicated."

"Yeah, she loved me," I say, my voice controlled. "Not as much as herself though. Dad, why are you telling me this now?"

Dad hesitates, pursing his lips and nodding to himself. "I know you're young, Haley. And I know you're ... you like Xavier. He likes you too, I can see that. I just want you two to be careful --"

This is the most emotional talk I have ever heard a father give his daughter about 'protection'.

"So we don't end up having a daughter we don't want?" I conclude, feeling a pang of hurt.

"So you don't end up being terrible parents to a daughter that deserves far better," dad says.

"You're not a terrible at all," I mumble. "And ... I get what you mean. I'm sorry, I won't let you down again."

I know dad didn't say anything that should make me feel so small, but I do. I was the unwanted daughter of a teenage couple, and that explains why my mom would hate me so much, Sure, dad might have been happy to have me, but even he had to go through hell to be a good father.

"You didn't let me down, dear," dad insists. "You're a wonderful daughter."

"It's not Xavier's fault though," I add glumly, ignoring his words and blinking back my tears. I try to distract myself from my thoughts but fail. "He ... I asked him to stay. He didn't want to go behind your back and ... I ... I'm sorry ... but Xavier didn't insist or ... make me do anything I didn't want to ..."

"Xavier is a good kid," dad says. "He really likes you."

My eyes sting and I nod quickly, blinking profusely and biting my lower lip.

"But you know why I like him more?" dad asks.

I glance up at him, wanting to know what my dad means.

Dad smiles. "He respects you," he says.

The word 'respect' sinks in, and I attempt to understand what my dad means by it.

"He does like you," dad goes on. "He might even love you. But the way he looks at you, the way he talks to you, or is around you ... there is more than just love there."

Why does this make my heart swell double its size?

"I have seen him with you. I have watched you spend hours together on that couch out in our living room. I have seen you sitting with him, standing, talking, just ... there. You know why I approve of him? Because he respects you, my dear. He respects your boundaries, the rules in this house, your decisions and your comfort."

Now that I think about it, dad is right. Even though I sometimes hate my dad's curfew, or his overcautious fatherliness, but Xavier has never even frowned upon any of it. He has always been so accepting, so ... okay. He has never made me do anything I might not want to do, never suggested something that might upset my dad, or cause me to change myself. Even when I dressed like a goth chick to impress him, he didn't reinforce my behavior.

He likes me as I am. He respects how I am.

"Some things are more important than being loved, Haley," dad adds with a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Things like ... being respected. Being Valued. Being cherished. Being accepted as you are."

I don't know that I'm smiling without meaning to, thinking back to Xavier and connecting him with everything my dad is saying.

"Xavier can give you all that," says my dad, his smile widening when my eyes meet his. "And I couldn't approve of a boy more."

I'm beaming, a mixture of happiness, sadness, and pride filling my heart. Letting out a breathless laugh, I jump off my chair and hurry towards my dad. I throw my arms around his neck, smiling despite the tears that have welled up in my eyes.

Dad joins in my strange laughing-crying gesture, chuckling softly and patting my back when I bury my face into his shoulder.

"You're the best father ever," I mumble, half-laughing, half-sobbing.

"Oh, jeez, no crying, love," dad jokes, pretending to look annoyed.

I hug him tighter, closing my eyes. He finally begins to laugh.

"Okay, okay," he says, slowly unwinding my arms from around his neck. "Now can we please have breakfast?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

I wipe my wet eyes and nod vigorously, still grinning like an idiot. I take my seat again, quickly picking up my fork and trying to wipe the smile off my face. I've almost succeeded when dad speaks again.

"And next time," dad says, raising his first spoonful to his mouth. "Don't make Xavier jump out the window."

"I didn --" I begin, my eyes wide as orbs.

"Oh, come on, I know only you could have that brilliant idea," he mocks. "Xavier at least has a brain."

I stare at my dad who fights back a smile before beginning to eat.

No matter how many times I think about it, I can't help but marvel at the fact that my father likes my crush more than he likes me.

And no matter how many times I think about it, I can't help but thank the heavens for how lucky I am to have a father like him.

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