Okay, so I came up with this storyline in my head... but I'm not sure about it. I want to test it to see if anybody would be interested in reading it.

So the plot is basically this : Girl goes to party, girl gets drunk, girl meets boy, girl gets pregnant... all in one night. She has to deal with the physical, emotional, educational, and religious consequences...

but all of that is later.

This is the first chapter... it's rough, but I didn't want to spend time polishing it unless it's something y'all would be interested in reading...

Sooo, I need feedback. Continue o no?

Here we goooo...

"Hey."

She tore herself out of her reverie, bringing her eyes up to meet the invader of her space.

"I'm not interested," she said automatically, sipping her cooler. She was never really able to stand the taste of beer unless it was practically frozen... and such a delicacy was way too much to ask of at a keg-party thrown by a high-schooler with out-of-town parents.

Apparantly, this boy didn't realize that he had just been dismissed. She fought back a retort as he boosted himself onto a stool beside her.

"So what's a girl like you doing sitting over here all by herself, anyway?"

She cocked her head up slightly to meet his eyes. "Do you not understand English?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

To her surprise, he lowered his head, a grin playing across his face. "I understand," he chuckled. "But does that mean I'm not allowed to talk to you?"

She pretended to mull over it, taking another sip of her cooler to kill time. "Mm, yes, I believe so."

He pulled back, laughing. "Harsh."

She sighed dramatically and twisted around. The only problem with her corner was that, because of this annoying kid, she was trapped. She felt her claustophobia kicking in, but the alcohol dulled its effects.

"Yeah, well..." Where the hell was Jazz? Hadn't she said that she would be right back?

"So?"

She forced her eyes back to his face. "So..?" Had she missed something?

"I asked why you're over here all alone."

God, couldn't he come up with something a LITTLE more original?

"I'm over here," she said slowly, as if speaking to a small child, "because I don't want to be over there." To add emphasis, she pointed over his shoulder at the massive amount of half-dressed, horny teens.

He glanced over his shoulder, then looked back at her. "Why not?"

"Oh, God," she groaned. Why didn't he just leave, already? "Because I don't want to catch the Skank disease, maybe?"

He rolled his eyes. "You don't have to dance like them, you know. They're just wanting attention."

"Which it appears they're getting." She couldn't hide the snide expression as she watched two of her classmates lock lips... and tongues. "That's freaking gross."

He grinned at her. "Freaking? I wasn't aware I was sitting with Saint Mary."

"Besides," she continued, "It's not dancing like a two penny whore that I'm wary of... it's the mass of moving... people."

He gave her a look, then nodded and, surprisingly, fell quiet. A slow song came over the speakers and she caught the glint in his eye. Before she could say no, he had grabbed her hand.

"Come onnn." She fought him, but he was stronger and pulled her off of her stool.

"No," she said firmly, her pulse quickening. Thankfully, he led her to the edge of the crowd, avoiding the bumping and grinding cheerleaders. He put his hands on her hips, leaving her no choice but to either stand there with her arms awkwardly at her side or rest them on his chest. She settled for the second, but stood a safe distance away.

He laughed at her. "We aren't in 8th grade, you know." She sighed, closing the distance between them. As the song continued, she felt herself relaxing, albeit unwillingly. When the song ended, she made to pull away, but, to her disappointment, another slow ballad took its place.

He chuckled softly. "Why do I get the feeling you don't like me?"

"Because, um, I don't? I don't even know who you are.." The thought struck her as funny. Here she was in a complete stranger's arms, dancing to a song that didn't exactly fit into the 'Just Friends' category. She blamed it on the alcohol.

"You ought to know me." Despite the music's loudness, she could still hear that her lack of rememberance had offended him. "We went to the same school."

She thought back, wrinkling her nose. Slowly, a face came to mind. "You were the Prom king, right? Dated that skank cheerleader off and on?" As the memories came back, she gasped. "My God, you're my friend's ex boyfriend!"

This time, he was the one who pulled back. "Which friend?" he asked, curious.

"Jazz Wilkes. You're the one who took her virginity, then broke up with her the next day." Yes, she remembered well. The rumors had been crazy... and even two years later, were still whispered on occasion.

He cringed. "Yeah, that was me."

"Ryan Wright." Now, she was surprised. This kid was friends with, like, everyone. Why was he wasting his time on her?

"Yep." As the song ended, she felt him release her. She stepped back quickly as a rap song filled the silence.

"Thanks for the dance." She scanned the room until she spotted another vacant corner. Satisfied, she began to walk away.

"Hey, wait." He grabbed her arm. "I still don't exactly know your name..."

She considered walking away, but something stopped her. "Sierra," she told him finally, pulling her arm from his grasp. Before he could say anything else, she fled.

She quickly made her way to the makeshift bar. The coolers had been fine earlier, but now, she needed something a little more affecting. After taking the cup mixed for her by Random Jock Number 3, she began to make her way to the corner she had spotted.

"Rezzyyy!" yelled out a very drunken Jazz.

Sierra turned, sighing. "Jazzie, you're shit-faced." The other girl giggled, then burped.

"I know right!" She threw her arms around her friend. "You should totally try it."

"Mm, that's okay." Despite this, however, Sierra felt the effects of all the alcohol she had consumed. She'd lost count, but she was sure her blood alcohol level was well over the legal limit.

"Hey, Jazz, I think your boyfriend is calling for you." Sure enough, Caleb was waving, trying to get her attention. Sierra left her friend for the corner, stopping again to down another cup of... whatever it was. She couldn't really remember.

She wove her way unsteadily through the chaos. "This is insanity," she muttered, dodging a flailing arm as a brawl broke out. She was almost to the corner when she felt a hand fall on her waist.

"Hey, there," said a male voice huskily. She pulled away, but his grip tightened. "You're lookin' pretty damn sexy."

"Get your hands off of me," she grunted, trying to pry his fingers away from her. He pulled her against his body, causing bile to rise in her throat.

"Hey," said a familiar voice suddenly. "Get away from her, Scotts."

The creep immediately released her. "Sorry man," he slurred, "I didn't know she was yours..."

For the second time that night, Sierra turned to face Ryan. "Hi again," she sighed, resigned. At least he was safe, right?

She didn't fight him when he put his arm across her shoulder. "Hey," he laughed, his eyes dancing. Normally, she wouldn't have been so mesmerized by the blue orbs, but, with alcohol pulsing through her, she couldn't help but find them... enticing.

"Pretty," she muttered, more to herself, but she knew by his grin that he had heard her.

"Why, you too." She stood on her tip-toes to see his eyes closer. Damn those tall people...

Something clouded his eyes. "Stop it."

"What?"

"Whatever you're thinking. Stop it."

His eyes sparkled again as they filled with amusement. She didn't really know who this guy was or why he was so interested in her tonight... but she did know that look. The look of.. lust?

He lowered his head to hers, but it was she who closed the distance. Sure, she'd kissed a few guys before, but this was a whole new feeling. Whether it was the alcohol (not likely), or the eyes (most definately), she couldn't help but to feel that tingling. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. He retiliated, but pulled away slightly, the cloudiness back.

"You're doing it again," she slurred. Was it the alcohol or him that she was drunk of? He seemed to be fighting an internal battle, which just made her frustrated. She sighed and started to pull away, but his grip on her tightened.

"Why not?" he muttered against her lips. This time it was he who was talking to himself, but she didn't mind the sensations it brought. He looked into her eyes, cool blue meeting not-so-beautiful brown. She smiled tentatively, not wanting to ruin the moment. Whatever he saw in her eyes seemed to be enough, because he lowered his mouth to hers once again.

She completely tuned the world out, so when she was knocked into his chest, she was surprised.

"Hey, man, watch it!" Ryan yelled, but the three men continued to roll around. Instead of ending it, however, people seemed to be cheering it on.

"Get em!" cheered Random Jock # 6. He, too, joined the fray. Sierra rolled her eyes, her senses still not quite returned.

"This is crazy," Ryan muttered, bringing her back to meet his eyes. "You wanna go upstairs, get away from these IDIOTS?" His voice raised as he looked pointedly at his friends, but they ignored him.

"Yeah," she said softly, thoughts racing through her head. She had a strong feeling that, when they went upstairs, things wouldn't be quite so PG, but that didn't stop her from following as he led her upstairs. After a few tries, they found a vacant room. He shut the door with his heel and he pulled her back to him. There was something different about this kiss, however. It seemed more urgent.. more... lustful. Before she knew what was really happening, both of their shirts, as well as her pants, were lying discarded on the floor.

He backed her up to the bed, both of them falling with a thump. His hands massaged her breasts. She was going into uncharted territory, and she had a feeling that he knew it. He removed her bra swiftly, battling only for a minute with the hooks. Once again, the mood changed... and she knew what was about to happen.

"I'm a virgin," she whispered, her face turning red. He pulled away, panting for air.

"I guess it's better that way," he said finally, but the frustration in his eyes was undeniable. "I don't have a condom..."

On the verge of delirium, she let out a bark of laughter. "A college boy doesn't have a condom?"

He sat up, but remained between her legs. "My roommates have this thing about raiding mine when theirs run low," he explained. "Usually I have a backup in my wallet, but I.."

Used it, was the word that hung in the air. That probably should have reminded her of just exactly who it was that she was considering sleeping with.. but it didn't. She reached forward and kissed him again, disappointment running through her veins. She'd never had such a close call...

In her mind, a decision was made. Why, she didn't know -- it certainly went against everything she had ever believed in... but it just felt right. She sat up and straddled him. His eyes met hers, and she saw the confusion.

"I don't care," she whispered, ignoring the small voice in her head screaming 'No!'. He stared at her for a long moment, then a small smile lit his face. He pushed her back onto the bed, kissing her furiously.

"Are you sure?" he gasped, positioning himself.

NO, the voice screamed.

"Yes..."

And so it happened.

Her friends all told her that the pain would end after a few minutes, and in its place would be pleasure. Maybe it was her drunken state, or maybe it was her guilty conscience, but the entire thing just.. hurt. When it was over, he fell onto the bed beside her, obviously spent. She lay looking up at the ceiling for half an hour, replaying the events. Slowly, she realized what she had just done and felt the tide break. All at once, the emotions come rushing and suddenly, she didn't feel so drunk anymore.

The first tear leaked out of the corner of her eye, followed closely by another. She sat up, careful not to disturb her sleeping partner... was that the term, partner?... and slid her tank back on. Her bra had been thrown somewhere into the shadows; she would have to find that later. She felt a pang in her heart. No, there wouldn't be a later. She was leaving. Now. Her panties were also lost, but she managed to locate her jeans. Why had she agreed to come to this damn party, anyway?

With one last glance back at the bed, she opened the door quietly, wincing at the stream of light from the hall. She hurried down the long hallway, unable to hold back the current of tears any longer. She pushed her way through a group of teens and entered the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror -- she looked, well, she looked like she just got laid. Her lips were bruised and puffy, her hair mussed. The tears stained a line on her cheeks, which was traced with her mascara.

She re-entered the hallway and began opening doors. She had no idea where Jazz was, but this was probably just as good of a place to start looking as any. Sure enough, four doors later, she found her friend in a deep make-out session with Random Jock # 3.

"Jazz, I want to go home," she said, her voice breaking.

Jazz pulled away from Jock. "What? Why?"

Sierra was silent.

Jazz looked at Jock, then at Sierra, then at Jock again. She sighed, exasperated, and pulled away. Jock began cursing as Jazz grabbed Sierra's arm and fled. They flew down the stairs, Jock following with his expletives echoing. It wasn't until they burst out of the house and finally reached Jazz's car that they slowed.

"Looks like he lost interest," Jazz huffed, her face red.

Sierra said nothing. Her breath was returning, and so was her memories. She got in the car, rubbing her hands over her eyes. Jazz got in, as well. It wasn't until they were pulling onto the main highway that Jazz turned to speak.

"I don't want to talk about it," Sierra said quickly. Jazz sighed.

"Come on, Rez. You can't freak out on me and NOT tell me why."

Sierra debated telling her, but decided against it. Jazz was known for her slipping of lips, and that was the last thing Sierra needed.

"I just... I.." She tried to think of an excuse. "I don't feel good." It sounded lame, even to her ears.

Jazz looked over at her, an eyebrow raised. "You're full of shit."

Sierra sighed as she stared out the window. It was true. "I just don't want to talk about it, all right?"

Jazz glared at her, but shrugged. "Okay, fine. Whatever."

Sierra knew Jazz was angry, and she had a reason to be, but it was just too fresh to share. All Sierra wanted to do was go home, shower, and curl up in her bed.

After a long silence, Jazz pulled into Sierra's drive-way. Without a word, Sierra pulled the door open and slid out of the car. She waved slightly, but Jazz, her face stony, pulled away without a glance.

Sighing, Sierra turned and, after messing with her keys, managed to find the right one. She unlocked her door, twisting the knob tightly.

"Please let them already be in bed," she prayed quietly, opening the door slowly. Wincing as it creaked, she pushed it further, glancing around. The room was dark. Good. She stepped into her house and slid the door shut behind her. The gust of air it made when it shut securely blew her hair slightly, tickling her neck.

She looked around, glancing at the clock. It was only ten past midnight. It felt like it should've been three or four. She tip-toed down the hallway, stopping at her brothers' bedroom door. The kids were silent. It looked like something was working for her, after all. She continued on to her bedroom, freezing when she heard her father's voice. When it was followed with a snore, however, she let out her breath.

"Only talking in his sleep," she muttered, shaking her head. She passed her older brother's bedroom, then her little sisters', then, finally, she reached hers. She opened the door and flipped on the light. Her bed was bare.

"Crap." She had left her sleeping stuff at Jazz's. That meant no hairbrush, no toothbrush, and no pillow. She cursed softly, dropping her keys on the brown dresser. Well, she hadn't exactly planned on coming home until later... like, hours later, in the morning...

" 'Let's go to Emily's party,' " Sierra mimicked, entering the Jack-and-Jill bathroom. " 'It'll be fine, Sierra. Come on, Sierra. All you ever do is focus on your schoolwork.' " She twisted the hot water knob, followed by the cold, in the shower. She reached up and pulled the elastic band out of her hair. " 'You don't even have to drink, Rez. I'll watch out for you, really, I've got your back.' " Sierra pulled open the drawers, glaring at herself in the mirror. Her hands fumbled around until they came up with a package of cheap, unopened toothbrushes. She ripped the plastic away from the card-board angrily, pulled one out, then jammed the rest back into the drawer. The water in the shower began to steam. Good.

As Sierra wet her toothbrush and applied toothpaste, she felt her anger building further. "Well, apparantly NOT, Jazz!". She brushed her teeth with a vengeance, then spit into the sink. She repeated the process, her anger still blazing. She knew it was her fault, yes, but still, if Jazz hadn't insisted on going to that DAMN party...

She pulled her tank off, which just reminded her of the fact that she had lost her bra. She wondered if Jazz had noticed. Probably, Sierra's bust size wasn't exactly on the "B" side. After that, came her jeans. She stepped into the shower, sighing as the hot water ran over her body. Her skin flushed as she thought over the night's events, and suddenly, the anger dissipated. In its place was grief. She backed up until she felt the cold marble against her back. She slid down, resting her head in her hands. Her skin crawled as she tilted her head back. She wrapped her arms around her knees. What had she done?

After her sobbing ceased, she stood up, the water now cold. She quickly washed, the water temperature dropping by the minute. Finally, she twisted the knob until the flow stopped, save for a few drops. Reaching for her towel, she stepped out of the shower. As she dried off her neck, she noticed, for the first time, the swollen red hickeys.

"Great." Just what she needed. How would she explain those?

She pulled her pajamas on, slipping out of the bathroom.

"What a night," she muttered, pulling the sheets away from the bed. She slid in, thankful that she had decided to only take one pillow to Jazz's. She curled one arm under her head and switched the lamp off with the other. Slowly, she began to fade into a restless slumber, blue eyes taunting her, even in her sleep.

So whatcha think? If I continue, will you read it?

Yes, no, maybe later?

Thanks for helpin'! I appreciate it )