A/N:This is my first story, and I'm throwing a few ideas around for later chapters at the moment, so I was wondering if people would kindly read and review. It would be much appreciated if you could please be gentle? Thank you and enjoy xx

This has been lengthened and re-uploaded, and later chapters are being edited at the moment for re-uploading.

BPOV

"Everyone grab a chair from the side of the room and sit in a circle!" said Mrs Ryder. A cacophony of "Yay, this game!", "Fun", and general "Yeah!"s followed her command as the students ran to organize a messy circle of chairs.

"There's one for you here, Miss!" Austin cried out, patting an empty seat next to him.

"Thank you," she replied, sitting, "Now, who first?" Many hands shot up, and I added my heavy hand, eager to get this over with. "Bella, you first," Mrs Ryder said to me.

Waiting for the class to settle down, my heart racing at about a hundred miles an hour, I looked around – these were my fellow students and as soon as I made my guilty confession to this drama class, they would decide whether I was telling the truth or not, the good, Christian student who many were fond of. And not one of them knew.

Taking a deep, calming breath, I looked around one final time at the eyes of each of those 12th grade students, and spoke. "I'm pregnant and engaged," I said, holding my ring up for the class to see.

Dead silence and many disbelieving, smiling eyes were turned on me. The girl sitting on my left, Angela, took my hand and looked closer at the small heart-shaped diamond. My face began burning.

"Lie," she declared, which was followed by a unanimous denial from the entire class, and my face heated more.

"Truth or lie?" Mrs Ryder asked me, curiosity not hidden in her voice.

I hung my head, tears forming, a lump stuck thoroughly in my throat, and I choked out in a whisper, "Truth." Silence descended, and nearly every student looked at me, wondering if they'd heard right.

"Sorry, I didn't hear you," Mrs Ryder stated. I picked up my head, forced the tears away, swallowed the lump in my throat and declared fiercely, "Truth."

Feeling so broken, I looked around at the other students in my grade, hoping against all hope to find one pair of understanding eyes. But every pair, all 21 other students looked at me either in disgust, horror or shock.

The perfect little Christian girl was pregnant! Under-age too! I could see it, not one of them would accept it. The teacher with her 58 years stared in shock, and possibly disgust, although that was better hidden. I clenched my jaw against the silence that hung heavy with shame and judgement around me, and my tears silently broke their banks.

"You?! But you can't be?! That doesn't fit your nature!? How can You be pregnant?!" one of the students finally exclaimed, breaking the silence and building the tension further.

"It's impossible!"

"You're lying!"

"I don't believe it!" The other students found their voices, shocked, angered, disgusted, horrified. The noise grew, deafening me, until I could no longer take it, and as their profanities began being hurled at me, I cried – curled into myself, having slipped onto the floor. Students stood, stalked over, glared at me, a few of the nastier girls even took to physical abuse.

Seeing the students lay hands on a pregnant young woman, Mrs Ryder found her voice. "Enough!" she shouted over the students noise, "Go back to the classroom and get your books out!" When no one moved, she yelled, "NOW!" whilst pointing at the door, "And once you have those books out, I want dead silence, and I want all of you to start the report that is due this Friday!" she continued.

"But Miss, I've finished it," one of the braver students broke in.

"Then sit there and be QUIET!" she cried, her patience having run out.

"Now Bella," she said, lowering her voice to a softer, kinder tone," I'd like it if you stayed with me for a bit in here." I nodded, unable to speak. "Oh, and Angela, please bring a box of tissues back in here for Bella."

"Sure Miss," Angela said quietly, and moved gracefully between the students.

Mrs Ryder sat on the floor beside me, and it looked like she was wondering what to do with a 17-year-old, pregnant, crying mess. "Get Rosalie and Alice?" I pleaded, protecting my child in every way I could.