I do not own the rights to anything having to do with Instant Star

Rating- PG-13

It was right before I turned eighteen.

"The Party of the year."

That's what set the ball rolling...

We had been working at the studio that night, a special song for a movie track.

We decided to just go to the party from the studio.

It was a good night, a fun party... we both were probably a little buzzed.

I didn't want to go home.

Mom had a date with her creepy lawyer that night. I didn't want to see or hear anything.

I asked if I could stay at his place.

He gave me the patented icy stare before softening and agreeing.

I think it was the jack and coke.

We went back to his apartment.

The so predictable bachelor pad.

I went into a guest room...for about two minutes.

I padded my way through the thick carpet and into the master bedroom, I knocked lightly on the door.

He answered the door in baggy black yoga pants.

I teased him for a second about the yoga, then he got to the point.

Asking me why I knocked.

I shrugged and asked if I could sleep in his room tonight, he started to hesitate, then shrugged.

"It's a big bed."

That's all he said.

I walked into the room behind him and tripped over a DVD case, the one thing marring the meticulate cleanliness of the room.

He caught me before I hit the wood floor.

The floor puzzled me for a second, then he read my mind.

"I don't like carpet, collects dust."

Then I remembered something I read years ago about Tommy Q.

He's asthmatic.

I shrugged and thought that explained the neat room, while still trying to remember the feeling of his warm hands on my shoulders.

We were both so distracted we ended up walking to the same side of the bed.

To make a point, I put my hand on his bare chest.

That set it all off.

We kissed, and more.

It was like all the tension just exploded.

We made love that night... Not my first time, but by far the best.

Fell asleep with my head on his chest.

We woke up looking at each other.

And promptly did it again.

Before he remembered I was still seventeen.

He drove me home.

It was a little akward and more than a little sad.

A month and a half later, I sat on the toilet seat in my bathroom staring at three pregnancy tests, all positive.

I was a little numb, and karmaically enough, it was the day before my eighteenth birthday.

I told him that day.

Didn't know anyone could look more frightened than I already was.