Chapter 25
This cannot be good for the baby. Five months pregnant and in a stupid press conference. It's stuffy and there's just way too many high-on-the-list journalist wannabes.

If they point another voice recorder at me and ask me how "It" was again, I will punch someone. And they will be sorry.

I haven't mentioned that I'm also having a bad cramp. The babies were moving around, as if playing tag in my uterus! It hurt! I fell back into David's arms.

"Whoa, Sam, you okay?" he asked. Yes, David I'm fine. I just go collapsing into people all the time. It's part of my daily routine.

My eyes blazed fire. "No, I am not fine. I'm about to go up to five hundred or so reporters and tell them--admit to the public--that I am pregnant with YOUR son!! Most pregnant teens don't have to deal with that! And, the girls are finding that torturing me is actually fun!"

He held up his hand like those criminals on cop shows do when they get caught. "Sor-ree."

I sighed and leaned against his muscular chest. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed. I mean, these red roots and black hair are not working for me, these pregnancy cramps are freaking annoying, and the fact that people demand that I come here is just too much for me."

It was true. I'd been so caught up with the whole Catherine-finding-out-and-knowing-I-was-having-twin-girls thing that I didn't realize that my red roots were growing in and my dark-almost-black-like-Ashlee-Simpson hair was starting to grow out. I looked like a clown. Imagine a girl with three inches or so of red roots and ebony hair. And I couldn't even dye it because of the chemicals in hair dye and their effects on babies. Ugh.

He wrapped his arms around my waist (now five inches bigger) and placed his chin on top of my head. "Sam, you'll be fine. I'll be there with you all the way, and if they ask something you don't want to answer, just say 'no comment'."

I nodded. "Yeah, easy for you to say. You're not the fifteen-pounds-heavier monster with multi-colored hair."

He chuckled and pulled me closer towards him. "You're so negative these days."

"No kidding," I remarked, but wwas trying hard not to smile. When David got this close to me, I began acting like any other teenage girl and got all ditzy and giggly.

"And sarcastic, too. You know, that's somehow a major turn on?" he whispered in my ear.

My body tingled. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said.

"Well, how's this for a turn on?" I said and kissed him.

He broke away for a millisecond. "It's perfect." and went back to kissing me.

There were probably a bunch of teen-magazine photographers taking pictures, but I just didn't give a damn. "Miss Madison, will you and David be marrying?" asked the first reporter.

I was standing behind a podium, blushing like a tomato. David and I had discussed the marriage thing along the last two weeks, and we came to the conclusion that we could make a political sense out of my pregnancy--make it a stand for children who were born out of wedlock and say that just because teenagers were pregnant did not mean they had to marry. Also, it'd be cool to hear kids saying, "Well, Sam and David didn't marry, and they're, like, the First Teenagers."

I even had a speech prepared for this question. But my mind went blank. Think, Sam, think! I commanded myself.

"Uhh...Umm...we..." I stumbled. Oh, Lord, help me!

The press remained quiet. Once or twice there was a flash, probably to go along with the title "When Stuck On A Speech". How fun.

David hissed something unheard, but I gained back my confidence. "Uh, okay. Umm, David and I will not be getting married. We're taking a stand to show that just because two teens got pregnant does not mean they have to hurry up and rush into a marriage."

Okay, so the the speech we prepared was better, by far, but when you're in front of dozens upon dozens of reports from radio stations, nespapers and magazines, you wouldn't be a professional speaker as the president might be. In fact, I had no notes. So, gimme a break.

The reporters scribbled it away. "Okay, how do you think the nation is going to respond to that?"

"I think I don't care," I blurted out. Deep breath. One wrong thing. That's okay...keep going. "I mean, I'd OUR baby and we think we shouldn't have to worry about what others think. It'd just be too hard to please everyone."

"And how do you suppose the president will react to this?" another one asked.

"No comment," I responded confidently.

A radio-show host boldly asked, "We've heard rumors you're carrying twins. Is that true?"

Okay, confidence going down! Too much!..."No comment."

She smirked and whispered something to her assistant, who smiled, too. Great. That gave it away.

David could feel my nervousness. He took the mic from my hand and said, "I'm sorry, that's a wrap, everyone."

Reporters groaned and started swearing. Most didn't even get to ask questions. Oh well. The White House will probably set up another one of these.

David took me by the hand and quickly yanked me behind stage. "You okay?"

I began panting. "Yeah, fine. I've just embarrassed myself in front of America. Fun stuff."

He kissed me. Passionately and tenderly. I lay down that night reflecting on the night's events. First the disastrous press conference. Then the angry mob trying to find out what we had to hide. Then trying to leave in the presidential limo (yes, David still lived with us, but his dad was lightening up). Then more night cramps and an episode of morning sickness at night.

Then I ate like a pig in front of David, who made a vow to eat just as much as I do. I'm begging him not to, though, or else we'll be on Extreme Makeover soon for some liposuction.

My lamp was on and I was lying on my back, being propped up against my bed's headboard by a big fluffly pillow from some lingerie place. Compliments of Lucy.

Suddenly my cramp intensified. I sat up completely and started moaning.

"Ohhh...OOOWW!!" I yelled. I almost said mother fer. But Rebecca was in the house and that was a completely un-Sam-like thing to say. I just continued to moan.

Seriously, the pain was so much! Imagine someone yanking your uterus up and down. It felt like it was detaching itself from the rest of my body. The pain!!

Lucy barged in. "You in labor?"

"No, LUCY!! I'm having a big cramp and it hurts!" I yelled, still hanging tight to my stomach.

Lucy sat down next to me and gave me her hand. I grabebd it and clutched it, pressing firmly.

"Ouch!" she whimpered.

"You thought that hurt?" I asked heatedly.

Suddenly I felt a bump on my stomach. I let go of Lucy's hand and placed it on my stomach. "Lucy, put your hand on my stomach."

She gave me a puzzled look but I nodded and she did. The bump again.

"Whoa!" she cried. "It's like...kicking!"

"Yeah!" I said. "The babies--or baby--are kicking!"