A/N - Yeah, I missed a week. But I wasn't satisfied with how the chapter came out, and I'm still not happy with it, even when I rewrote the whole thing. I quoted Mean Girls in the end so I kind of like that ;) Okay...on with the chapter, I guess? R&R?
~Julianna

Nina
Chapter 5: "The Obsessed"
September 4th, 2012

The sound of an all too familiar voice and the bright white light illuminating from the cell phone on the nightstand woke me up.

Fabian Rutter's voice. People at my school claimed that I was "obsessed" with him - if only they knew the truth. After I saw Fabian Rutter's face for the first time, when all of the girls in Callina Academy were obsessed with the singer, I knew it was him, the boy whom I had a one-night stand with, yet never learned his name.

Listening to Fabian's voice comforted me. While he lived his life without a worry in the world, doing what he loved, all without the knowledge that he had a daughter, I sat at home with my headphones planted in my ears, listening to his beautiful voice.

After all, no one would really believe me if I claimed that I was the mother of Fabian Rutter's child. He was like One Direction in my school - a great amount of people admired him, had a crush on him. They claimed that they 'were going to be his wife'.

They knew just about as much about him as I did the night I met him. Which was basically nothing, except the fact that he was a song-writer and wanted to go

Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I reached my arm over to the wooden nightstand, feeling around my phone. My hand eventually grasped it and I brought it over to my face.

Fabian's voice, still screaming in the dead of the night, silenced when I declined the call. The caller ID read Eddie. As much as I loved him, I refused to talk to him at 5:00 in the morning.

I groaned when I heard his voice again - Eddie had called back. I muttered to myself as I accepted the call this time. I greeted my best friend with, "Eddie, why the hell are you calling me at five in the morning? What do you want?"

"Well, good morning, Little Miss Sunshine!" I could practically feel Eddie's smile through the receiver. "Just thought I'd remind you that it's a Tuesday."

"You suck."

"Ah, not so fast, Nina!" Eddie cautioned, knowing that I'd be moving my finger towards the red button. "It's a Tuesday, that just so happens to be the first day of school. So get your fat ass out of bed and get ready for another fun year at Callina Academy!"

Instead of me hanging up, it was the opposite; Eddie was the one to do that. I rolled my eyes when the call had been ended, throwing my phone onto the opposite end of the bed I was sitting up in.

I had known Eddie since my first week in Liverpool. Since we were the only Americans in our neighborhood, we instantly clicked. Soon enough, we'd added Mara Jaffray to our gang. It had been the three of us since the first year of high school - we'd been through everything, including pregnancy.

I'd been the one to get pregnant, obviously. My first few months in my new school had been going fairly well; I had made two great friends, after all. No one was my mortal enemy and no one despised me yet. That quickly changed when the new year came around, and news got out that I was pregnant.

Things came crumbling down after that. Since I was American, and in second year of high school, they called me the "Sophomore Slut". They didn't call the grades in high school the same as they did in the United States, so the jerks thought it would be the 'perfect name'. They still called me that, and it's been over two years since I had given birth.

School was hard on me as well. With being a teen mom of a two-year-old and going into my final year of high school, I was struggling. It helped that one of my best friends was Mara Jaffray, the straight-A student and current Valedictorian to tutor me, but whatever she said just seemed to go through one ear and out the other. I was still flunking a bunch of my subjects.

Wiping the sleep out of my eyes, I ripped the blankets off of my body and threw my legs over the side of my bed. With unsteady legs, I walked over to Emma's crib and leaned over the side, only to see a tiny two-year-old sleeping soundly.

Emma had turned 2 only a few weeks ago, so she'd be in the crib for another couple of months. The clock on my phone read 5:14 a.m - early in the morning on the first day of school. Eddie had acted as if I didn't know what day it was, but I did, of course.

It had been almost one months since I sent Fabian the photograph of Emma. All I wanted to do was let him know that he got me pregnant. I left my last name out for a reason, but Fabian tracked me down. When we reunited, he told me he wanted to make things right; to form a dysfunctional family of a nineteen-year-old dad, a seventeen-year-old mother, and a two-year-old child.

We'd been talking by email for almost a month. I hadn't seen him in person since he came over my house to meet Emma for the first time. Fabian and I had been talking almost every day, and we'd been getting along great. It was almost like we hadn't met in that coffee shop three weeks ago and had sex with each other.

We didn't have a lot to talk about, but somehow we managed to keep conversations going for hours on end during the summer. We learned a lot about each other; more than I'd ever learned in that one night I'd known him.

It had been only one night, but I'd fallen for him hard. The only thing I really remembered about him all those years was the color of his eyes; they were blue. Not a sky-blue or an ocean-blue - they almost belonged to him, and only him. They were his blue eyes, and no one else's.

I was reminded of him every day - after all, I did give birth to his child. I had to think of him, even though I didn't want to. I was not going to abort my baby or give it away for adoption. It was my baby, and I'd keep her, even though she wouldn't have a father.

She had the same eyes as her father, which only made me more depressed every time I looked into them. She had my hair color, but she had Fabian's exact eye color. I thought that maybe I could've forgotten him; I was ninety-nine percent sure that I'd never see him again, but whenever I saw the charcoal-blue color of Emma's eyes, my heart sunk into the pit of my chest.

Leaving Emma to sleep, I grabbed my laptop from under my bed and opened up my email, only to see an IM from Fabian. I smiled when I read his message: Nina, we've been talking by email for almost a month. Do you feel compelled to give me your phone number yet?

I chuckled softly and responded: Nice try.

When there was no response, I realized that he'd probably be asleep, considering it was 5 AM. I closed the laptop, and ever so silently, pulled on my uniform for Callina Academy. It wasn't like I enjoyed going to school anymore, but since it was my last year, I figured I'd endure another year. After all, Eddie and Mara would be at my sides.

xXx

Normally, I'd eat lunch alone, so I was beyond surprised when a voice across from me screamed, "GUESS WHO?"

My head jolted up, my gaze moving from my potatoes to Eddie, who was sitting across from me, grinning like a madman. A smile quickly spread across my face as I leaned over the table to hug him. "We finally have the same lunch period!" I beamed, as Eddie pushed me down.

"Nina, I'm so glad to see you again," he chuckled, digging into his meat. "I haven't seen you all summer! How have you been?"

I shrugged, shoving a forkful of sweet potatoes into my mouth. I didn't care if I talked with my mouth full in front of Eddie, and he didn't either. "Fine, I guess. Overwhelmed. Annoyed that Emma's babysitter wasn't around."

He rolled his eyes. "I told you, I had things to do. If I could've watched Emma, I would've. But things don't always work out the way you plan!" He held up his arms dramatically and his expression gave away the message of What are you gonna do?

I laughed, swallowing the potatoes. Ever since Emma was born, Eddie had been her babysitter when I couldn't watch her. He didn't mind watching her, so Emma's Babysitter became his official title. He was in my house so much that he didn't even have to knock anymore. Emma had even started calling him "Uncle Eddie".

Eddie was silent for only a moment, but then he asked, "Have you done anything about Fabian?" his voice was soft; he said the sentence carefully.

I realized that I'd been busy with Fabian the whole month of August. I hadn't spoken to either Mara or Eddie, because I'd been too busy with talking to the father of my child, and trying to make things work. We'd been separated for three years, so we were trying to make things work now.

Eddie, Mara, and my grandmother were the only three people in the world who knew the father of Emma was Fabian. Everyone else thought that I had a one-night stand with a random person I met. Because after all, no one would believe me if I told them that Fabian Rutter was the father of my child.

I remembered how I had responded to Fabian's message this morning. "No," I lied through my teeth. Staring down at my potatoes, I scooped up another forkful. I'd guessed Eddie was going to pressure me into telling to truth, but before he did that - thank God - Mara sat down next to him.

"Heeelloooo," she drawled, setting her books and papers down on the table.

She straightened her pencils into an orderly line as Eddie greeted her, "Hey, Mara." Eddie's look of confusion and betrayal was laughable as she got up and moved, away from Eddie.

"Oh, okay," he began, his betrayed expression showing through his tone. "That's okay. It's not like I have feelings or anything. Just move away from Eddie. Eddie isn't hurt at all. Eddie doesn't want to strangle you or anything-"

"And Mara doesn't care," she retorted in her British accent. She rolled her brown eyes and turned to me. "I have the same lunch period as you two!" her smile broadened.

Eddie snorted, now chewing like a cow on his forkful of potatoes. "Eddie doesn't think that's such a good thing."

"Again, Mara doesn't care."

"Okay, can we stop talking in third person?" I suggested, chuckling in my seat. "It's obvious you have lunch with us, Mara. You're right here." And without her permission, I went scavenging into her bag, which I knew she hated. Ignoring her protests, I threw away loose sheets of papers and broken pencils, eventually coming across a thin rectangle that was her schedule. "Let's see what classes we have to together..."

I brought out my schedule to compare and I heard Eddie mutter under his breath, "Eddie wants Nina to compare his schedule with hers too."

I ignored him, realizing that Mara and I shared only one class together, and it was the class we were in right now: Lunch. "Aw," I pouted, throwing her schedule back with her books. With a look of horror, she reached across the lunch table to neaten out her rucksack.

I held out my hand towards Eddie. He smirked, and I already knew what he was going to say, but the words rushed quickly out of my mouth, "Eddie Miller, don't you dare say something in third person. Just give me your schedule before I get it myself."

"Fine. I'll just talk in second person. First, you must decide whether or not to give Nina Martin your schedule. When you decide-"

But he handed me his schedule anyway, still muttering under his breath in Second Person point of view. My spirits dampened even further when I realized that Eddie only shared my lunch period with me, too. In a fit of rage, I ripped the schedule back from Mara's hands. She let out a small yelp of surprise.

Comparing both Eddie's and Mara's schedule, I snorted and handed both of them back to the boy and girl. "None of us have classes with each other. This is the only time in the day we have together."

"Oh, thank God," Mara breathed, slouching back in her seat. "If I had to share classes with Eddie, I'd probably pack my bags and move to Switzerland."

"I can just feel the love," said Eddie bitterly.

We spent the next twenty minutes talking, and Eddie even apologized for missing out on his babysitting duties. I made him promise that he'd babysit next Saturday, and he happily agreed. In the last ten minutes before our next class, the Dreaded Two walked in.

"Something wicked this way comes," Eddie whispered across the table to Mara and I. Sure enough, Patricia Williamson and Joy Mercer came striding across the cafeteria towards us. I rolled my eyes, turning my attention back to my friends, but they were both on their way towards us.

"Hey, Eddie, Mara, Sophomore Slut," Patricia greeted, finally walking into earshot. I'd been hearing that nickname for the past three years, so it didn't really faze me anymore, like Patricia liked to think it did. Her red hair was lying on her shoulders, while her partner in crimes was brought up in a ponytail.

Both girls were cruel, but Joy was meaner than Patricia could ever be. She, in the flesh, was the one who had actually come up the name "Sophomore Slut". Joy giggling, and sticking close to Patricia's hip, followed her to the table behind us.

Eddie had his fists rolled up into balls. "I'm going to knock some sense into them -"

"Eddie, stop," I commanded him, and he sat down. He hated my nickname almost as much as I did; probably even more. When I said Eddie was like my big brother, I wasn't lying to cover up my feelings for him; he really was like my big brother. He protected me, and when he got into messes, I was there to help him. We were more like siblings than secret lovers.

"You're not going to let them call you that for the rest of the year, are you?" he growled. "It's your final year, Nina. Don't let bitches like them get to you."

"They're not," I sighed, turning my attention back to my potatoes. "I'm just sick of being called that every single day. It's been three years since I've been pregnant. I wish they would just give it up."

"If you ignore them, maybe they will!" Mara suggested hopefully.

I retorted, "It's kind of hard to ignore them when they're screaming right behind us," I scowled, tuning my body around so I could face Patricia and Joy, who were screaming to each other over something. After listening more carefully, I learned that they were talking about Fabian.

The one and only Fabian Rutter, who I had sex with when I was fifteen. The father of my child. Popular worldwide, and most commonly known at my school. Practically all the girls were obsessed with him. Joy Mercer in particular.

"Oh. My. Gosh," she began, her fangirl face already showing through her excitement. "In his previous concert, Fabes was soooo gorgeous! I mean, could he get anymore handsome? His singing voice is extraordinary, and the only thing that makes this all better is the fact that he lives so close to us! I could literally drive to see Fabes right now!"

"Fabes?" I whispered to Mara and Eddie, who were now listening in to their conversation. "His name isn't Fabes...it's Fabian. And he's never been asked to be called that before."

"And you would know that, how?" Eddie questioned, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Shut up," I snapped, listening in further to hear both of them again. After hearing the name "Fabes" about a thousand more times, I pushed myself off of my seat and strutted over to Patricia and Joy.

Joy was still talking to Patricia about Fabian when I approached them. When Patricia noticed my presence, she cocked an eyebrow and spat, "Can I help you?"

"Yes, actually, you can," I retorted, holding my arm behind my back. "I'd just like to tell Joy over here that his name is Fabian, not Fabes. Okay, have a nice day."

I flashed them a smile before walking away, but Joy called after me, "And how would you know that, you American git?"

In a matter of two seconds, the blood inside me boiled. A look of pure hatred crossed my face before I turned around and walked back to them. I didn't even have time to defend myself because Joy continued, "You Americans think you have the right to like musical artists that come from our country. One Direction fans in America are so annoying, and so are Fabian's fans there too. I bet you know nothing about him, and you consider yourself a fan!"

I clenched my hands into fists. Joy was wrong; in the month I had been talking to him by email, I learned more about him than Joy ever would, because I was actually talking to Fabian himself. I would know more about him than Joy would ever know.

I kept my anger under control. I couldn't say that I was the mother of Fabian's child, because either 1) no one would believe me or 2) everyone would hold the 'joke' against me. People in my school thought that I was just another fan of Fabian's. If only they knew the truth...

"Yeah, Joy. You're right. So you can go on believing that you and him are going to get married and have lots of children, and Patricia can go back to being the cruel girl she is. Now you can have a nice day."

xXx

After I got home from school and kissed Gran hello, I ran up to my room and brought out my laptop from underneath my bed. Joy's statement that I didn't know anything about Fabian was still echoing in my mind, and I needed to prove her wrong, even if I'd never tell her in person.

I saw that Fabian had responded to my message from this morning. He had replied: Can you at least give me the first number?

I laughed and rolled my eyes. He had been at this ever since we first reunited; I refused to give him my phone number, because I didn't want to get too attached, or let him think he had some sort of connection to me. I typed in my reply: Fine. The first number is 6, but that's all you're getting, so enjoy that :)

I left my laptop running and walked over to Emma's crib, where she was taking a nap. A small smile started to creep up on my lips as I moved Emma's light-brown hair away from her face. My laptop beeped again and I sat on the floor, ready to reply to his message. Maybe next month you can give me another number?

Maybe. :)

His reply came quick, and I never thought that it would lead into us talking for hours.

Fabian Rutter: So since today is September 4th, you'll have to give me the next number on October 4th. OK?
Nina Martin: Sounds good. Hey...you do realize that we've almost been talking for a month, right?
Fabian Rutter: Of course I do. A month of not knowing the mother of my child's phone number. Imagine how embarrased I felt when I had to tell my friends I only had her email.
Nina Martin: GASP. You have friends?!
Fabian Rutter: Haha, very funny. What's the point of this subject you brought up?
Nina Martin: This obnoxious girl at school told me that I know nothing about you. Which so isn't true.
Fabian Rutter: Hmm...I guess we'll have to test that. What's my favorite color?
Nina Martin: Are you seriously giving me a quiz on yourself? And it's orange.
Fabian Rutter: Yes. I am. And you're correct.
Nina Martin: Then do you know what my favorite color is?
Fabian Rutter: I thought this quiz was about me :(
Nina Martin: Just give me the next question, you big baby.
Fabian Rutter: :D OK. When's my birthday?
Nina Martin: Wow, I have no idea. Because it's not like you made my type the birthday song on the computer on August 21st. I wonder when it could be?!
Fabian Rutter: OK, you got me there. How many sisters do I have?
Nina Martin: You seriously need to ask harder questions. 4.
Fabian Rutter: You asked for it, Martin. How many years apart are Isabelle and Olivia? If you can answer this question honestly, I'll give you an oatmeal cookie the next time you see me :)
Nina Martin: OH MY GOSH NO WAY. Okay, um...I know Isabelle owns her own house, so I'm presuming she's older than 22 and out of college. My estimate is that you guys are all 2 years apart, so...are Isabelle and Olivia 9 years apart?
Fabian Rutter: You were close; 8 years.
Nina Martin: IT WAS ONLY ONE YEAR AWAY! YOU STILL OWE ME AN OATMEAL COOKIE!
Fabian Rutter: You got it wrong, so technically, I don't. But if you can get THIS ONE right, I'll give you TWO oatmeal cookies.
Nina Martin: And if I get it wrong?
Fabian Rutter: "And none for Nina Martin, bye."
Nina Martin: Did you seriously just quote Mean Girls?
Fabian Rutter: It's your fault for telling me to watch the movie last week. Okay, the next question: What's my least favorite food, but what's the quirk with that?
Nina Martin: Your least favorite food are potatoes, but you love crisps and french fries.
Fabian Rutter: Four for you, Nina Martin! You go, Nina Martin!