That night, I toss and turn, not caring if I'll end up waking Mariana. Brandon, the sweet, gentle, caring Foster Brother I've had for months has no idea what's going on, and he's in the room right across from me. Then the actual problem.
Being pregnant.

It won't sink in.

I'm carrying a baby, something I never wanted. One more mouth to feed, one more thing to constantly worry about. Something that's inside of me. A problem, a mistake. An accident.

Babies are supposed to be made out 'love'. When I was with Brandon, I did feel like I was loved, I needed somebody to comfort me, to look after me and that's what he did. But I'm just a sixteen year old girl and I'm too young to know what love is.

I'm too young to be pregnant. I'm too young to be on my own. Brandon's too young for this to. It's not just my life it's affecting.

I was to stupid to think that nothing would happen and we'd get away with it, I completely forgot about the consequences and just... threw myself at him.

I can't forget about it. The day of Jude's adoption, and I was secretly messing everything up for me. Again. It repeats over and over in my mind, his gentle hands, the small caring kisses, the way his body moved against mine. It keeps haunting me.

I can't stay any longer. Not in this house, not when everybody's looking at me like I'm some sort of reject, somebody that they don't know what to do with. "Stef?" I finally say, knowing that right now, she's one of the few people I want to actually talk to right now. I would talk to Brandon, but he disappeared to his dad's house. I would talk to Wyatt too, but he can't comfort me the way Brandon can.

"Yes, Love?"

"C-can I go out?" I ask quietly, tripping over my words. "I- I just need some air."

"Take as long as you need. Make sure you have your phone, please." Stef says, and I give her a forced smile as everybody else just stares at me. I grab her car keys on the way out.

Once I get to the beach, it's empty, and I'm thankful. I really don't want to interact with anybody else right now. I stare at my shoes, my faded gray hit-top converse. I've had them for years and they're falling apart- just like most of the stuff I touch.

I don't know how long he's been standing behind me, and I jump when he talks. "What is a girl like you doing out here all alone when you should be with your family?" Brandon asks, sitting down next to me, and I can feel his eyes off of me.

"I just needed some air." I say simply, but it's Brandon, one of the only people who see me like an open book, and I know he can see that I'm just trying to keep myself together.

"You know," Brandon says quietly, carefully wrapping his arm around my shoulders I tense up, only to relax and lean into his touch more. "I don't care if you cry. I'm here. It's okay."

I can hear the pain in his voice, and without having to look at him, I know I'm the one who cause some of it. Not some of it- most of it.

"I just don't get it, B," I grumble, shaking my head. "Why can't I just have the same dad? Jude's my brother and I'd do anything for him but why do I get no luck? I can't even get adopted for God sake!"

"Callie," Brandon says, his voice soft and weak. "The things you do for- Jude... I mean... You deserve to get adopted."

"Tell that to Robert Quinn. I- I hate this," I grumble, shaking my head. "I hate the fact that some stupid name controls my life!"

"He doesn't control your life, Callie. Only you can. He's just a set back in your adoption, and once you find out who he is, he'll have no choice but sign the papers so you can get adopted. I promise." Brandon whispers, burying his face in my hair.

This is wrong, I know. I'm getting comfort from a boy that is giving up a lot of things for me. I should be comforting him, telling him that I'm not trying to hurt him. Still, I can't seem to pull away. If anything, I want to lean in more.

One of Brandon's hands rub my arm, causing goose bumps to crawl up my skin. I turn my head and lift it until we're looking at each other again. Brandon is staring at me so intently that I'm sure he can see right through me. He knows that I feel vulnerable. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't give you what you want."

His hands come up to wipe the tears from my cheeks and I press one of my cheeks into the palm of his hand, craving his warmth.

I close my eyes, enjoying the warmth I feel as Brandon strokes my cheeks with his thumbs. Keeping my eyes closed, I subconsciously lean in until my lips press against his.

I pull away, as quick as lightning, my cheeks heating up. I yell at myself for doing such an idiotic thing. I've done this with Brandon before. Both of us agreed that we were going to stop whatever it was.

Not meeting his eyes, I go to stand up, when he catches my arm and tugs me back down so I'm looking him in the eye. We stare at each other for what seems like forever before he lowers his head towards mine, giving me time to push him away. My eyes flicker to his lips, watching as they come closer, eventually, I close my eyes and press my lips to his again.

Unlike my first kiss, which was quick and soft, this is slow and sensual. My arms reach up and around his neck, pulling him even closer as his hands come to rest on my waist. I let my fingers tangle in his soft, brown hair. He leans backwards, falling onto the damp sand, and pulls me on top of him, and I let him guide us.

"Callie," Brandon murmurs against my lips. "I- I thought that you... w-wanted us to stop this," He pulls away breathlessly, looking at me. "We should stop." He says, his voice gentle, just like his hands that run up and down my sides.

"No. I don't want too," I whisper, my voice vulnerable. "I- I just want to forget. Please... I want to feel something." I beg him, wanting to forget the pain of loosing my mom that has started to come back. The pain of not being able to get adopted. Wanting to forget the pain of not being able to be with him. Which is stupid, because I'm with him right now.

He flips so my small frame is underneath his large and muscular one, and narrows his eyes- realizing that I'm using him. Again. I swallow, wondering if he's going to pull away, tell me that he can't stand the idea of me using him, but instead he nods slowly, and presses his lips to mine again, continuing what we- I started.

Slowly, my hands quickly go under his shirt, feeling his muscles tense and relax at my touch. I've kissed Brandon like this before, the short, yet heated fifteen minutes in Daphne's apartment. But we've never gotten touchy. Suddenly, Brandon pulls away, pulling his shirt over his head, letting it fall to the ground next to us.

"Is this okay?" Brandon asks, unsure of his actions as his hands start to make their way underneath my shirt. And I just pull it over my head, letting it join his next to us. Brandon stares at me in shock, clearly surprised by my actions. He doesn't say anything as he kisses me again, trailing off to my neck.

Before I can stop it, a moan passes my lips, and Brandon grows more confident in his actions, pulling me closer to his strong frame if that's possible.

"Callie, I-I don't wanna hurt you." Brandon whispers in my ear, sounding unsure of himself.

"You won't. Brandon, please."

Just the memory has my heart beating faster in my chest. Then it hits me. What if I told Brandon? He'll understand, right? He'll understand where I'm coming from and that I need his help. Or he'll want to keep it, to raise it. I can't let that happen. I'm not going to be the reason why he gives up his future- a good one. Eventually they'll all find out. I can tell Stef and Lena that I don't know who the dad is. They'll never believe me if I told them that. Both of them would think I'm smarter then that. If I was, then I wouldn't have done it at all. Either way, Brandon can't know. My choice is simple.

Brandon Foster will never know.