A/N - Whoa, long chapter coming your way. Okay, I'm going to keep the Author's Note as short as possible. ^u^ Thank you all for the wonderful reviews! They keep me going :) All right, on to the story. I guess that's what you're here for. I do hope you enjoy the chapter! Happy reading!
Have a sparkling day!~*
~Julianna

Fabian
Chapter 3: "The Reunion"

"I am not going through with this plan."

Alfie rolled his eyes, from where he was sitting in front of me. "Well, it's the only thing I've got. Unless you have a better idea."

"I could come up with twenty better ideas than this," Jerome stated as he was pulling with his costume.

Alfie rolled his eyes. "Come on, how else would you walk into the mother of your child's house, without her knowing that it's you?"

"Lots of ways," I replied sarcastically. "Besides, she sent me the photograph. She obviously wants to meet up with me again."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, mate," Mick began. "I mean, sure - she sent you the photograph, but she didn't put her address or even her full name. We had to find that out through the wondrous powers of the internet. She most likely doesn't want to be found."

I nodded, knowing that Mick's statement was true. "I know," I reasoned, "But I want to see her again. I need to meet my daughter . . . Emma," I said, playing the name of my daughter on my lips. It was so odd; at only eighteen, I was a father. I wasn't ready to be a father. I was having a good time singing and hanging out with my friends; I wasn't ready to have a daughter.

"It's your responsibility," Jerome told me, as if he could read my mind. "You were the one who got her pregnant. It's your fault just as much as it is hers. Admit to what you did and fix it."

"That's what I'm trying to do," I replied impatiently. "I want to see Nina again, and Emma for the first time. I missed the first two years of my daughter's life. Christ, I don't even know when her birthday is!"

"I know, Fabian," Mick told me, "but you can't just walk up to Nina's door, sing a song, and expect everything to be okay. You two are going to have to work together to maintain a healthy relationship. You have to work through the hard times and be there for each other. Jesus Christ, Fabian, you have to support her because you freaking got a fifteen-year-old pregnant!"

I nodded, admitting to my mistake. Alfie asked, from the drivers seat, "Mate, how did you meet this Nina girl? What happened?"

"That's none of your business," I muttered bitterly, but Jerome scoffed from where he was sitting next to Alfie.

"I can't believe Fabian had sex when he was sixteen," he ranted. "We're both nineteen now - well, Fabian will be nineteen in two weeks - but I've been nineteen for two months now and I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

Mick burst out laughing, and didn't even try to cover it. Jerome rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything else, so I assumed it was true. Jerome was nineteen and he hadn't even kissed a girl yet. In the few years I had known him, he had a couple of girlfriends, but I supposed he never kissed any of them as he never tried to persuade us he was kidding.

"I can't believe Jerome's never kissed anybody!" Mick rejoiced. "Oh, that's priceless. Fabian, can you believe that? Jerome's never kissed a girl! And you had sex!"

I nodded again, but didn't say anything after that. I stared outside at the passing trees and scenery from the back seat of Alfie's silver convertible. After he announced that he had a plan, he ushered us all inside his "baby" (a.k.a, his car) and didn't tell us where he was taking us.

First, he took us to his house, and forced us to put on the costumes he gave us. His plan wasn't all that bad - if it weren't for the costumes. Alfie forced us to put on freaking delivery men costumes. The suits were obnoxious, unflattering, and just plain unprofessional. Alfie's plan was to go knocking on Nina's door in the delivery men costumes, saying that she had won a free meal from the 'restaurant we worked at', so she or her parents would open the door and not see Fabian Rutter, the famous singer.

We were on the highway headed to Picton from Woolton. It wasn't that far - it shouldn't be more than twenty minutes to get from where I live to there. Unfortunately, the student profiles revealed a little too much, which wouldn't be good for a sociopath maniac because he could track all the addresses down - but the student's addresses were printed on the profile page, and so was Nina's.

We were headed straight for her house when Alfie suddenly made a left turn onto an exit.

"Alfie, where are you going?" Mick questioned. "Picton is that way." he pointed in the direction the highway was headed.

"I know!" Alfie exclaimed, still driving into the exit. "I'm going to Amber's house."

There was only one thing Mick and Jerome agreed with: Amber was the annoying one. Mick and I both agreed that she might be more annoying than Alfie himself, which she was - but I liked Amber. She was a good person, even though she liked to fangirl over David Beckham. She came over from time to time - more than Alfie, at least - and she helped me with my schedule and such. I called her my "mini-manager" because I didn't like my real manager that I had.

Amber was Alfie's on-and-off boyfriend. She must break up with him and then get back together every other month. I supposed that August was an "on" month, because he was headed there right now.

"We are not picking Amber up," Jerome growled from the passenger seat. "Come on. It's four p.m. Nina might be out and about soon. If we're not quick enough, Nina might not be home and getting into these ridiculous costumes were useless. Just turn around, keep driving down the highway, and let's go to Nina's house so Fabian can have a panic attack when he sees his daughter for the first time."

"Haha," I laughed without humor. "I won't have a panic attack. I've been preparing myself for this ever since we found Nina's profile on the school website."

As Alfie realized his mistake, courtesy of Jerome, we drove down the highway to Nina's house. I stared out of the car most of the trip, thinking about what I would say after three years. What I would say to Nina's parents when they figure out that I was the person who got her pregnant. Nina obviously knew who I was - she sent me the photograph. But did the parents know?

I was musing about all this when Alfie parked the car in front of a house. With our delivery suits on, we stepped out of Alfie's convertible and I admired Nina's house.

It was a two-story Colonial with creme, diagonal shingles. Two windows on the bottom floor, on either side of the white door, and two windows on the upper floor. The roof was a black trapezoid. There were two cars parked in the driveway.

"Here we are," I muttered, almost to myself. "The household in which the mother of my daughter lives. We're actually here and we're going to meet her. Oh my god, this is not what I expected," I said as I followed Mick, Jerome, and Alfie up the stone steps to Nina's white door.

None of us knocked. "Who's gonna knock?" Mick asked quietly, and like the secondary school kids we were, we played a game of "Not-It". Alfie was the one who said it last.

"Aw," he complained, but raised his fist and rapped on the door. The first time, his fist barely grazed it. He turned to me, making a deal, and said, "If I knock on the door louder, do I get to play with Emma too?"

I titled my head like a confused dog, but realizing I didn't have to knock on Nina's door, I nodded, saying that he could. His fist pounded on the door, and we waited a few seconds before an elderly woman with grey hair opened the door.

My mind wasn't processing what I was seeing. I was expecting a young woman or a man, not an older woman. What made me think that Nina would have parents? I remembered . . .

"My grandmother was offered a job that she couldn't refuse," Nina said.

So Nina had lived with her grandmother since I met her. Where were her parents? In America? Dead?

"Who are you four lovely lads?" The older woman said, her bright green eyes sparkling. Her eyes were so much like I remembered Nina's to be; it was almost scary in comparison.

I cleared my throat, remembering Alfie's dialogue that he made us practice when we first left his house. "Um, we're the delivery people from Joe's Restaurant. We're here to tell you that you won a free meal - Oh god, Alfie, I'm sorry, I can't do this." I said, taking my hat off and zipping the costume off, as it was covering my regular blue t-shirt and jeans that I usually wore on a Saturday afternoon.

"Yeah," Jerome and Mick agreed, ripping off their costumes at once. Alfie groaned, but took off his costume too.

"Who are you, really?" The old woman asked innocently.

"He's a friend of Nina's," Mick covered for me, so I didn't have to say anything. We were all out of our costumes by now. "Is Nina here?"

"Yes, I think so," The old woman, obviously Nina's grandmother said. "NINA?" She called up the stairs.

"YEAH, GRAN?" Another voice called down. Nina's voice. The voice that I had last heard three years ago.

"THERE'S SOMEONE HERE TO SEE YOU!" As I heard footsteps upstairs, Nina's Gran asked, "Now, what's your name?" she asked, her gaze pointed at me.

"Uh . . . F-Fabian," I stuttered. Jerome wasn't kidding around when he called me Stutter Rutter all that time ago.

Her grandmother nodded, and when a figure came down the stairs, my heart almost stopped.

It was Nina.

It was the same Nina that I had three years ago in the coffee shop. The same Nina that sat down next to me, and started up a conversation, despite my protests. She continually asked me questions, until I started asking about her as well. For once in my life, somebody was interested in me, and it was a stranger I had just met. A stranger that didn't even know my name when she had a one-night stand with me, but didn't care because she liked him that much.

It was Nina, and no one else. She had the same wavy dirty-blonde hair. I couldn't see her eye color from where I was standing, but I would bet it would still be the same pale-green with the same speck of anticipation and excitement. It was her. It was really Nina.

I looked up at her, my charcoal-blue eyes meeting her pale-green ones. She didn't say anything. I didn't say anything. Instead of running down and hugging me, Nina shook her head and bolted back up the stairs.

Well, that was unexpected. Mick leaned over and whispered in my hear, "I told you she didn't want to be found."

I waved him off, but once I saw that Nina's gran was closing the door, I stopped the motion with my hand.

"I'm sorry, Fabian," Nina's Gran apologized, "but Nina obviously doesn't want to see you, and based on her actions, I won't let her. I'm sorry; you seem like a great guy, but you'll have to go."

She pushed the door closed, but I stopped it again. "Wait," I insisted. "Please. You have to let me come in."

"Fabian, I -"

"Please. I . . . I haven't seen Nina in three years. And . . . well . . . I'm . . ." I paused. ". . . I just found out that I'm the father of Nina's child."

The old woman's eyes widened. She didn't slam the door like I expected her too. I could tell that she was analyzing me: my eye color, my hair color, my facial features. Instead of slamming the door shut,, she whispered, "You're Emma's dad?"

xXx

After some explaining, Nina's grandmother let us come in. I told Mick, Jerome, and Alfie to stay downstairs with her grandmother, who was named Evelyn. I watched Evelyn make them a cup of tea as I climbed the stairs.

On the upper level, there were three bedrooms and one bathroom. The bathroom door was ajar, so I peeked into it, only to find it empty. I peeked into the bedroom to the left of it, and sure enough, Nina was standing inside, facing the wall opposite me. She wasn't doing anything.

I slowly pushed the wood door open, hearing the soft reeeeaaak. Nina turned around.

We were face to face for the first time in three years. We were seeing each other for the first time in three years. And for the first time in three years, I was hearing her voice. Nina was as beautiful as she was three years ago.

"I don't want to see you," she demanded. Her American accent was still there.

"Then why did you send me the photograph of our daughter?" I inquired, not moving from my spot because Nina didn't move from hers.

"Because I wanted you to know you had a child," Nina said simply. "I didn't put my last name on there for a reason, you know."

I groaned, realizing Mick was right. She really didn't want to be found, after all. "Look, Nina," I reasoned, "I get it. You're mad at me. That's understandable. I didn't even tell you my name when we met, much less my phone number, so you couldn't find me. You were left to care for an infant with no one but your grandmother. You're still a teen mom. I completely understand."

Nina stayed silent.

I continued, "But when I received that photograph, I vowed upon myself to make things better, to meet up with you again. To fix everything. I wanted to see you again. God, Nina, you were so amazing. I wanted to learn more about you. I wanted to be with you more. But when I woke up the next morning, you were gone, without as much as a note. I had no way of finding you. Granted, I did nothing to find you, but I had no idea that I could have gotten you pregnant."

"Well, you did," she mumbled, her gaze trailing to the floor. "I was scared. I found out I was pregnant after I missed my next period. I had no way of finding you because I didn't even know your name. Through my pregnancy, the baby didn't have a father. When I gave birth, my baby still didn't have a father."

"I know," I admitted. "I'm sorry. It was my fault as well; I should've done something to find you. I was in denial. I didn't think I could have gotten you pregnant. We had condoms. I don't really remember what we did with the condoms though . . ."

I continued, "But I'm sorry. I didn't try to find you and I didn't even have the decency to tell you my name. I left you, a fifteen-year-old, to fend for yourself when you didn't even have parents."

"It's okay," she forgave me, "It's my fault just as much as it is yours. But my daughter - our daughter . . . she's healthy and well, and that's all that matters."

"Were you scared at all?" I asked. "Being a teen mom?"

She looked up again, and I could tell that she was soaking something in. Me? What was it? My presence? She wouldn't move her gaze from my eyes. "Terrified," she admitted, answering my question. "I was completely and utterly terrified. But it's been three years since I was pregnant. I've gotten over it. Emma's still alive, I'm still alive, my Gran's still alive. I'm doing fine."

I didn't say anything for a minute or two, and when Nina asked me what was wrong, I asked her, "How's Emma doing? Emma . . . my daughter." I was still getting used to putting the two words together.

"Emma's fine," Nina answered, releasing the smile that I fell in love with three years ago. "It was hard telling her that she didn't have a father for the first two years of her life, but . . ."

I cringed, knowing that I was the one that left both of them alone. I hated thinking about the fact that I had missed the first two years of my child's life. I had missed the day when she took her first steps, said her first word, starting eating on her own. I missed all of that. I hadn't even seen her yet. I desperately wanted to see my daughter.

She still wouldn't move her gaze from my face. "But I'm here now," I said. "I want to make things better. God, Nina, this is the first time I'm seeing you in three years. You're just as amazing as I remember you. Well, except, that you're not asking many questions."

I was musing about the next lyric when the same girl asked me, "What are you doing?"

I pursed my lips, already knowing she was a girl of many questions. There was no way to escape her, or to brush her off; she would continue asking you questions until you exploded. The only way to get rid of her was to answer her questions until she was bored.

"I know all there is to know about you," she smiled weakly. "The people at school think I'm 'obsessed' with you. If only they knew the truth . . ."

"Why don't you tell them the truth?" I wondered.

"Well, I can't exactly tell them I'm the mother of Fabian Rutter's child, can I? They'll think I'm crazy. You're a big thing, Fabian. So many teenagers in my school love you. They all think they're going to meet you and get married. They're like the fangirls of One Direction." Nina laughed and rolled her eyes. "They wouldn't believe me if I told them you got me pregnant, would they?"

I shook my head no, agreeing with Nina's statement. I didn't say anything, but she looked me in the eyes and said, "I missed you, Fabian. So much. I want to work things out with you."

"I do too," I agreed. I heard yelling and screaming coming from downstairs, and when Nina asked, "What was that?" with concern in her voice, I answered, "It's just my mates. They're probably just being idiots."

I heard my name being called, and I knew it was time to go. Nina realized this, and she ran over to her desk, ripped a piece of paper off from her notebook, and wrote something on it. I thought it was her phone number.

Well, I thought it was her phone number, until I saw what it said. On the small piece of ripped yellow paper, it said, ninamartin0707. yahoo. com

It was her email address.

"Why are you giving me your email address?"

"Because I'm not giving you my phone number," Nina said simply. "And if you think you're getting it any time soon, buddy, think again."

A/N - There's going to be a small difficulty with the next chapter; in one week from today, I'm going to be in upstate NY, in Frost Valley, for three days. The next chapter WILL be posted on Friday, but it will be posted late at night, so I would check for chapter 4 on Saturday morning, because you'll definitely find it up on the archive then. K? I do hope you enjoy this chapter, and I hope you have a sparkling day!~*
~Julianna ^u^