AN: My fist fic that's not fan! And seeing as I posted my first fanfic just last Tuesday, I seem to be going at a nice clip, huh? As for first time subjects, well can't I pick 'em? I feel the need to say this has never happened to me before, nor anyone I was close to (though it has happened to someone that I'm friends with now, after the fact), so if you feel the need to tell me how stupid I am, and how this isn't at all correct, feel free. I really don't know much on the subject. However, I must maintain that I'm sure someone, somewhere did react in this manner. But I will cheerfully listen to your reviews (as long as they aren't absolute flamers; I really don't want to read a review that tells me I'm a moron without telling me why, because however am I going to fix it without instructions?), though I hope for reviews that tell me I'm brilliant, or at least that I don't suck. Actually, I rather encourage these. Well, have fun reading.

Disclaimer: HA! I don't have to write one of these. For once. Though I appear to have anyway. There's irony for you.

He shivered and sat down. His head pounded like an anvil had been dropped on it, but he could deal with that later. More importantly, he had to deal with what he had done.

It was unexpected, that was for sure. He hadn't thought much about it when he had asked her out, or when they became boyfriend and girlfriend. He didn't think about the possibilities when they had fallen in love. People did that all the time, and nothing happened to them. Other people that he knew slept with people they weren't even in love with for months, and nothing happened to them. They had only spent three nights together in secret, just three nights. And they had done everything right, or so they had thought. He had thought they were old enough. Mature enough. Were they? Weren't they? No. Yes. Accident. Mistake. He didn't know. He didn't think it mattered anymore. Maybe it did.

There were so many signs. He ran his hands through his hair, pulling at it until hurt to remind himself this was real, and thought, There were so many signs. He had been gone for three weeks at a soccer camp. When he came home, he was so happy, because he was going to see her again. But she avoided him; she wouldn't call him back, or e-mail him; she put up her away message as soon as he came on-line; when they met in the park one day, she avoided his eyes – why didn't he see how scared she was? Was extra weight on her hips, lines on her face he hadn't seen before? Why didn't he pay attention – then after a few minutes of strained conversations, she broke into tears and ran away.

He had spent a week thinking she no longer loved him, that she had found someone else and didn't know how to break it to him. He had come here tonight to confront her – only to have her confront him.

"I know ... we've only been together for a little while... I don't want to scare you ... or pressure you ... but you need to know ..."

He had hated how scared she'd sounded. He loved her. He didn't want her to be scared. But he was scared, too. So he waited until she told him, and then ...

And then he was terrified.

The house was small. How small was this house? Had it always been this small? He paced. "How are you?" jumbled in his throat, and his treacherous mouth (the one that had said "I love you" to her just moments before) spat out, "Are you sure?"

She stared at him, hurt shining in her eyes. After what seemed like a lifetime, she shook her head, agonizingly slowly, and in a small but firm voice, replied, "No."

Numb, cold, dripped down him, covering him. Everything he felt summed itself into a frozen, "What?"

Her eyes were hard, her tiny chin at a determined angle, harsh lines etched in her face. "I've taken a test, but it was too soon. There are mistakes. But I think I am, and my first test said I am, so that's what we're working with here."

He stormed into her bathroom and began rooting through the contents, throwing things around, banging cabinets and drawers, leaving toothbrushes and make-up scattered in his wake. She leaned on the door behind him, eyeing him tiredly. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked in a loud but world-weary voice.

He mutely handed her the package he had been looking for. He stood and stared at her for a while, his eyes blank, hers hard. Then he muttered, "Check again," and unceremoniously shoved the box in her hand and staggered slightly out into the next room, dropping like a stone on the couch, with a stone's expression to match. He wasn't aware as she stared at him, or the tear that she scraped away as she quietly shut the door.

She hadn't ever had a boyfriend before him. Yeah, ok, that's a lie. She had Danny Rods in the sixth grade for about two weeks, and there was Theo Pander who had taken her to their 9th grade homecoming and then dumped her the next day for Lanie Fivers. But he was different. Of course he was different. It was the first time someone had taken the time to ... well, she was thinking to look at her as more than a friend, but the truth was to love her. But now wasn't the time to examine her parent's feelings for her. Or was it? Because she was about eight months away from being in their position. Minus a dad, it was looking like.

She had been so scared. The worry of how exactly he would react was so great she had spent the last month in what seemed like a constant haze of fear and sorrow and tears and worry, worry, worry. Sweat on the forehead, dodging the questions of "Are you alright?", spacing out, crying – lots and lots of crying. Oh, and eating. Though in the past week, the food hadn't exactly been staying down the way it's supposed to. Of all the things about pregnancy, she had to admit morning sickness might be the worse.

That's the funny thing, she thought as she stared down at the box in her hands. She had expected to be so hurt and torn apart if he rejected her. And it was true, when he had first heard, and was obviously not taking the news too well, she had just wanted to give up then and there. How could she raise a child on her own? But when he asked her if she was sure – she shook her head, it wasn't the question. It was the expression on his face. There was such – distrust. Anger. Disgust. Disgust! She ran her hands through her hair furiously, and scowled at the pregnancy test in her hand. He had no right! God, society had such double standards. Or did guys just have really big egos? Something inside of her still hurt, but ... mainly she was infuriated that he thought he had a right to speak to her that way. After all she had been through! And she was carrying his child.

And guess what? she thought. That's what I'm going to tell him.

With that, she slammed the test down on the counter, banged open the door and stepped into the next room ...

And caught his guilty look as he froze in a position that indicated he was about to make an inglorious exit.

His head hurt. All his thoughts ran in the same path. Was it true? Would she lie? Why would she lie? Could the test be wrong? Was that possible? Had she taken the test at all? Would she lie? On and on, in a neat little circle.

What would his parents think?

What would her parents think?

Did they already know?

What about their friends?

Would they hate them?

What about high school?

College?

Their futures?

Did she think he would marry her?

His mind buckled and bucked at last. Marriage? He couldn't ... she didn't expect him to ... of course not. But he knew she would. Father – maybe. Husband ... hell no! He couldn't do that, God no. He wasn't ready ... and she was expecting him to, she was going to be out here any minute, he had to get out of here. He had to get the hell out of here!

He nearly exploded off of the couch. He hadn't taken two steps when the creak of the door stopped him. He froze, and looked back to see the pained and angered look on her face.

Her heart stopped for a moment.

He doesn't want me?

He doesn't want ... this?

And then the beating came back full force and heat rushed through her. He didn't want her? She hadn't done anything wrong – or, that wasn't right. Nothing wrong that he hadn't done himself. He had no right to turn from her now. Hell, screw that, he had no right to turn from their child now! How dare he think he had the right to go anywhere until this was decided?

How fucking dare he?

Her eyes blazed with the sudden fire she felt. She crossed the room, pulled his arm and shoved him back down on the couch. She ignored the shocked expression covering his face, and shrieked, "WHAT! THE! HELL!" She didn't wait for a response. "This is the best you can do." Quiet. She was building up for a good vent. She had a month's worth of worrying to back her. "You find out you have a child, responsibilities, and that I've been dealing with this alone for a whole month, and the only thing you can think to do is RUN!" Vent here. "You ass! How can you just run away! What the ..."

"Hey!" He had apparently finally returned to reality, and he was pissed. Well, good for him. It was easier to be mad if he was mad back, and easier to beat him down if there was a fight.

"Hey, what?"

"You don't have a right to ..."

"Yeah, I don't have a right to what? Expect you to step up and deal? God, I know that now."

"Step up?" He practically spit it out. "Where the hell was all this when you found out? I mean, how far along are you?"

"You were away, and I was scared ..."

"So I can't be scared, too?"

"Yeah, but I didn't run away ..."

"You not coming clean was just as bad. And why were you so scared to tell me, anyway? You weren't sure it was mine or something?"

He knew immediately he had gone too far.

Not to give him that much credit. He had help. First of all, there was that ringing silence that followed his last statement. Then there was that look she gave him. That torn, betrayed, desperately sorrowful, incensed look. When a few tears slid from her eyes. And the box she had managed to hold on to their entire tirade had dropped pitifully to the floor with the tiniest of plops, which could only be heard thanks to that goddamn overwhelming silence.

Oh, yeah. And when she slapped him?

Yup. That had been a pretty damn good indicator.

He had left mainly because he couldn't think of anything else to do right then. Really, what could he do? It wasn't like he wasn't coming back. He was. Probably. But really, she just springs this on him, and he's supposed to be ok? He had soccer in the spring. How was he going to look after a pregnant girl and play? Wait. Was she still going to be pregnant then? Was there going to be a baby already? He definitely couldn't take care of a baby and play soccer! Hadn't she thought of any of this? What about him and his future? How could she be so selfish? Yeah, that's what she was. A selfish bitch who never thought about how any of this would impact him. Why hadn't she told him right away? He would have told her. Well, obviously the exact situation didn't apply, but whatever.

He took a last left. And finally he was there. It was his place. Or the closest thing he had to his place. It was a jutting rock over a sloping hill. You could see the whole town from where he was sitting. He hadn't even taken her there, yet. He had planned to, when he got back from camp. He had had an entire evening planned. But she had never returned his calls. Now it was the one place he could go that didn't remind him of her. Much.

Taking a seat on the rock, he tried to organize his thoughts. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In.

She hated him.

Out.

He hated her.

In.

Or did he love her?

Out.

She had lied to him.

In. Out.

He should hate her.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

He couldn't hate her.

InOutInOutInOut

Especially now.

Inoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinoutinout

They were going to have ...

In.

A baby.

The air finally slammed out of him. He was going to be a father. No. He was going to be a daddy. A goofy grin lit up his face. He liked the sound of that. He was going to be a daddy.

That bastard! That selfish, self-righteous –

The pillow punched the couch in time with every word running through her head.

Son-of-a-bitch!

The pillow hit the wall and burst. She fumed as the feathers floated down around her. How could he even think to say that to her? He had no right! God, she hated him. She hated him! She let out a shriek full of venom.

Another pillow exploded.

How could he even suggest that? How could he? Good thing he'd left, or ...

She yanked her shoe and smashed that against the wall, too, hoping to make more of a dent to the wall, which she was pretending was him. Instead of a dent, her heel broke. Great.

What had this come to? She slumped on the couch. She had loved him so much once. Did she still? She thought about that. Yeah, she did. But the fact was, she was pretty sure she could do this without him now. Raise a child.

She was also pretty sure she didn't want to.

Well that's good, she thought dryly (could one think thoughts dryly?). I come in touch with my feelings just as he's probably crossing the borderline to ... oh, God ...

She barely made it to the toilet in time. When she was through, she leaned her head against the bathroom wall and sighed. What was she going to do?

His happiness quickly faded. He had a kid. Were did that leave him? What should he do now? Ok. One step at a time.

First of all. What did he want to do about her? He knew he still cared about her, but where did that leave him? No more questions. It was time for answers. So. They were too young to marry, whatever the reason. And tying each other down before they even left high school wasn't an option. They would resent each other, he was sure of that. Ok, he would resent her, but whatever, it was still bad. But he was going to be there for her. Not with just money, but to help raise the child. Ugh. Child. Now he sounded like his parents.

Bile rose in his throat when he thought about them. Calm down. Just take this one step at a time.

Ok. Baby. He was going to be it's father. Boy or girl.

A baby. He grinned.

His baby.

He jumped up. He knew what he was going to do about the baby, and now ... He started the car and careened onto the highway ... now it was time to talk with her about the rest. About them.

She had been lying on the couch for about two hours now, having exhausted herself from throwing various objects, pacing, banging her head on the objects she hadn't thrown, and throwing up in the bathroom ... and not in the bathroom. Thank god her parents weren't home tonight. Well, as if they were ever home. But she learned to deal with it, just as she'd learn to deal with this. She knew she had to wait for him now. She had no idea how long it would take until he'd figure things out on his own. But she'd had her time to process everything that was happening. He deserved his. In the meantime she had so much to do, it was making her head spin. Telling her parents seemed like the easy part, compared with the doctors visits, the baby-proofing of her house, maternity clothes, trying to finish school as her pregnancy advance, and what everyone was going to think of her. A slut. Will roll over for any guy. That was going to follow her for the rest of her life. And he'd be the hero. If he took her and the baby of course. Poor boy who got into some big trouble, but is becoming a man and shouldering the responsibilities life has chosen to place on him. Ugh. Even if he decided to leave the baby, it was ok. He just couldn't handle the burden life had placed upon him. If he needed space, he was entitled to it. But any way it was turned, she came out a whore. And in one instance, she was a whore with a baby, and it was her own fault she gotten herself in that situation. The other was she was not only a whore but a heartless bitch who couldn't even handle the consequences of her actions, and had the nerve to get an abortion or give away her baby. Yep, that was the way life worked.

But guess what?

She didn't care what people thought anymore.

That's what she had decided on her two calming hours on the couch. Now she just had to settle in for a wait. A wait for him. She just hoped he wouldn't take too long. She needed to know which way to turn, and right now she was stuck in limbo waiting for him to pull her out.

He opened the door quietly. For a moment his heart stopped, seeing her sit there the way she was. It reminded him of the girl he loved. Then she turned to him, and in her eyes he saw the beginnings of a woman. A woman that he instinctively trusted.

"Hey," he said softly.

He definitely liked her. He could tell. Maybe even ...

"Hey."

And with that, the anvil was lifted back up.

AN: So reviewing? My best friend. I love all that review, even they tell me that for the

sake of humanity I should never write again. I just want to know what you think. So PLEASE review!!!