A/N - Hullo, there. I honestly have nothing good to say today. Um...chapter 6! Yay? There's nothing more to say here, but I do like this chapter...a little bit. I do hope you enjoy this chapter and I hope you have a sparkling day!~

Remember: Flashbacks are in Italics and Centered.

Fabian
Chapter 6: "The Memories"

"Remember the first time we met?"

Nina nodded, sitting back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest. "Of course I do," she answered. "I walked in here, ordered a coffee, and sat down next to you."

"I remember that day...it was a Sunday. You sat down next to me, and you said hi..."

I was typing the fourth line of the second verse when someone sat across from me. I didn't look up; people sat at others tables all the time when there was no other place to sit. I saw her take a sip from the coffee she had ordered from the corner of my eye before she said, "Hi."

I wasn't sure if she was talking to me or not, but no one else talked and the girl sitting across from me didn't say anything either, so I figured she was talking to me. I reluctantly looked up from my laptop screen and replied, "Hi."

"I didn't know that we'd be having sex in the next hour or two," I admitted, scratching the back of my neck."

"Neither of us knew, Fabian," Nina said softly, showing the slightest hint of a smile. "I don't think either of us really wanted to become parents that early, but...

"I still remember what you were doing," she mumbled, almost to herself. "You were writing a song...do you still have it?" she met my eyes, releasing her smile. The smile that had made me fall for her...

The first thing I noticed when I saw her was her smile. Her smile was real. There was nothing fake to it; it wasn't forced, it wasn't obnoxious or ridiculous. Her smile was genuine, and her expression was full of curiosity. She looked like she liked mysteries and challenges.

"I don't think so," I answered Nina's question. "I was sixteen when I wrote it. I probably looked back on it a few months ago and tossed it because it was so lame or something." I chuckled softly, looking at Nina from across the table once again.

Only a few hours ago, I had asked Nina to meet me at the coffee shop where we met. It was still located where I lived, in Picton. Nina and I had been talking about the day we met for a few minutes now.

"It's crazy," she stated, taking a sip of her coffee. "It's been over three years since I set foot in this coffee shop. Three years since we...well, you know...did it. Two years since Emma was born..."

"What's funny," I began, "is that even though I've been talking to you on email for over a month now, I still haven't learned when Emma's birthday is. Is it sad that I don't even know my daughter's birthday?"

"A bit," she giggled, her green eyes shining. "Her birthday is May 25th."

I snapped, muttered "Oh, man," and smiled when I heard Nina laugh. When we'd been talking over email, she'd been so stressed with school and obnoxious people and taking care of our daughter by herself that I don't think she'd ever smiled when she typed in "lol". I liked that I was making her laugh.

"I'll add it to my calender: EMMA'S BIRTHDAY in big red letters so I don't forget my daughter's third birthday," I promised, with a joking tone.

Nina smiled again, but she remained silent. I supposed I had to make the next move, and I decided to crack another joke. "Do you feel compelled to give me your phone number yet? And why won't you give me your number? I mean, Nina; I'm Emma's father. I'm her other half. Hm?"

"And you're also famous," she hissed, lowering her voice the slightest bit. The owner of the coffee shop had offered to give us a table in the back of the shop (after I gave his daughter an autograph, of course.) After all, if I had been out in the open, people would notice me and take pictures, altering the whole world that Fabian Rutter was in a coffee shop in Picton.

"Things could happen," she reasoned, leaning forward the slightest bit. "I just don't want to give you my number just yet, okay? Please respect that."

Reluctantly, I nodded. I wanted to keep in touch with the girl sitting in front of me, but I also knew that I need to respect her. She was the mother of my child, after all. "Okay."

She sighed, taking a sip of the coffee in front of her. She seemed to be almost finished with it, and we only ordered it a few minutes ago. Nina didn't say anything, and neither did I.

There was an awkward silence between us after that. I wasn't confident enough to speak up, and Nina didn't want to seem to talk either. I had to keep this conversation going, because I couldn't risk losing Nina.

"Do you regret it?" Nina asked, finally breaking the silence, so I didn't have to.

"Regret what?" I questioned, although I already had an idea of what she was talking about.

"Do you regret that night?" she asked, so straight-forward the question could be mistaken for a pin. "You know...when we did it. Do you...regret it? I bet you completely forgot about me before I sent you the photograph..."

"You're right," I admitted, a look of guilt flashing across my face. "I wasn't. But I hadn't seen you in three years, and, well...I didn't think I could have gotten you pregnant. I figured that was only one of the many times I'd have sex in my lifetime, so...Nina, can I ask you a question? A personal question?"

"Ask away," she replied, folding her hands on top of the table, obviously willing to answer any question that was thrown at her.

"Were you a virgin when we met?" I asked the question carefully, crossing my feet under the table.

"Yes," she answered right away, as if the question didn't faze her the slightest bit. "I was fifteen when we had sex, Fabian. I only met that many people who I actually liked." she showed the smallest hint of a smile, never moving her gaze from mine. "And...what about you? Was I your first time?"

"Yeah," I replied, averting my gaze from her face. Neither of us were talking again, but under the circumstances, I understood.

I was a famous celebrity, and Nina was a struggling student in her final year of school. I was nineteen, talking to a seventeen-year-old over our two-year old daughter, which I had made when I was sixteen and when Nina was fifteen. Nina and her grandmother didn't have that much money to support Emma with, but I had all the money in the world.

After a long silence, I spoke. "You were the first person in so long to actually take an interest in me," I admitted, blinking my glasses-needing eyes to see Nina's face clearly. "No one really thought I was that interesting when we met, but you did. You asked me so many questions, and I loved talking to you for that short time..."

I waited for the girl to ask another question, but she held back. I was happy for that in a sense; I could finally type the song without any interruptions. I was upset about the fact, also; I wanted to learn more about this mystery girl and why she seemed so interested in me.

I sat silently for a minute, carefully looking at her from the corner of my eye. I thought she'd be a wonderful inspiration to work with, to write about. She was outgoing, confident, and I'd definitely classify her as a "people-person". When she met someone, she wanted to get to know them, to unlock their secrets and let them know they were welcome to talk to her and become her friend.

I was thinking she wasn't going to ask me anything anymore when she said, "Do you play an instrument?"

By now, I pretty much figured out that I wasn't going to get any work done with her around. I saved my document and closed my laptop so I could look at her again. The door to the coffee shop opened when someone walked in, blowing her light-brown hair over her face, blocking her pale-green eyes for a second, but it never dared to cover her smile. Her smile was something else completely, a part of her that was almost something else entirely. It stood out on her like a sore thumb, and I was glad it did.

I met her eyes again, as my mum had always said it was good manners to meet someone's eyes when you talk. "Yes, I do. I play the guitar." was the answer to her question.

I could feel the tips of my lips start to creep upward, and I knew I was smiling. In my school, everyone pretty much had their own groups of friends, and I had . . . well, myself. I liked keeping to myself and I didn't care that no one wanted to strike up a conversation with me, but I would prefer having a friend than not having one. This girl in front of me continually asking me questions made me happy, and I'm quite sure it showed.

"Do you still play the guitar?" Nina asked, remembering when we had met. She released a small giggle, and the question made me laugh, too. Even after three years, she still was a Girl of Many Questions.

"Of course I do," I said, my grin stretching from ear to ear. "This time, you can actually get to hear me play. You want to hear?"

Releasing another laugh, she nodded feverishly. "Yeah! I'd love that! Of course, I've heard you before, but..."

My eyebrows furrowed, my eyes narrowed, and I leaned my body forward the slightest bit. "What do you mean?" I inquired, tilting my head. "You didn't hear me when we first met, obviously. How did you hear me play...?"

"I'm Nina Martin, the obsessed fan, remember?" she said, waving her hands along with her words. "I heard you on the radio, or seen you on videos on the Internet, or...you get it. I've seen you play before. I kind of wished I had heard you play in person first, though." Her look of hurt returned.

"Well, you can," I offered, shifting around in my chair. I met Nina's eyes again. "Do you want to come to my house?"

Her eyes widened, and I could tell that she was shocked. "Oh! Um...I...I don't..."

"It's okay, Nina," I reassured her, reaching across the table for her hand, which in reply, she didn't take. "You don't have to come. I just figured you could come with Emma or something and we could all just hang around and talk..."

Her look of shock remained, but I continued the conversation. "Speaking of Emma, how is she?"

Taking a deep breath, obviously relieved, she replied, "She's fine. Probably taking a nap right now or something, I guess."

I never wanted to make Nina feel awkward or uncomfortable. We'd been talking for more than a month, but things still weren't smooth between us. I always felt like Nina thought we were moving too fast; I invited Nina over my house once before and based on her responses it seemed like she was having a mental breakdown. I didn't know why she refused to come to my house.

I decided to ask her. "Nina, my house isn't contaminated," I explained, releasing a small laugh in spite of myself. "I don't know why you don't want to come to my house, but you have to understand why I'm asking you to do so. You're the mother of my child, and I'm the father of said child. We have to work together to set things right. Not to mention that I want to see my daughter again. Nina, would you like to come with me to my house?"

She jolted back, as if someone had electrocuted her. I asked her what was wrong, and she responded with, "That's what you asked me when we met...if I wanted to come to your apartment. And...I did. And then we...you know..."

I knew what she was talking about. Right before we left the coffee shop when we met, I asked Nina if she wanted to come with me to my apartment, and that led to us making out, then eventually making love.

"Thanks," I grinned, genuinely thankful. "You're a great girl, Nina."

"Aw, shucks, don't make me blush," she said, despite the fact that she was already blushing. She looked me in the eyes again, saying, "I wish I could learn more about you, Mystery Boy. I know next to nothing about you, other than you have a talent in the musical arts. You could specify a bit more there, you know."

"Hey, that's what I am: a mystery," I deadpanned as I pushed myself off of my chair, placing my laptop in my rucksack, and made my way over to Nina.

When I stood in front of her, she said, "What are you doing?"

"Asking you something," I stated simply, and then continued, "Nina, would you like to come with me to my apartment?"

She'd never spoken of 'that night' when we were talking since we reunited. I understood why; I had gotten her pregnant, leaving her to take care of a baby by herself, ruining her life.

I didn't know how much longer her grandmother would last. Nina had told me over email one day that her parents had died in a car accident a long time ago, so that's why she lived with her Gran. Her grandmother was growing older by the day; how much longer would she last? Nina was seventeen; no one wants to adopt an girl that's almost eighteen.

"Look," I reasoned. All I wanted was for Nina to come to my house to talk for a little bit, but by her actions, I could see she really didn't want to. "The last thing I want to do is pressure you into going, but as parents, we need to work together. Okay? I promise that my house isn't surrounded by crazy fangirls or old men with cameras. It's isolated on a big hill, far away from any civilization. I promise. Will you come with me to my house?"

Nina scratched the back of her neck, and I immediately regretted asking her. I knew she thought we were moving too fast - and that was understandable. She was a seventeen-year-old mother who had just been reunited with her one-night lover and she was feeling conflicted and confused. I completely understood why she was scared.

"It's okay," the words rushed out of my mouth. "You don't have to do if you don't want - "

"No, no," she interrupted, waving her hands in front of me. "It's fine. I'll come with you to your house. You know, after I go home and get Emma first."

"Great!" I exclaimed, pushing myself out of my chair so fast that I startled Nina into the back of hers. "Meet me at my house on 12 Oakes Avenue at noon. See you then!"

I left the coffee shop in a hurry, leaving the mother of my child alone and confused.

xXx

I really didn't plan that out.

I realized that as soon as I pulled my car up my driveway, seeing two other cars parked next to me: my mothers and my sister, Isabelle's, car. I didn't think that they'd be home, but my lingering suspicion was confirmed as soon as I stepped into the doorway and was surrounded by five females and not one male but myself.

"Fabian, where were you?" Chloe, my second youngest sister growled as I closed the wooden door behind me.

Chloe was the only person on my side of the family that knew my secret. I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone, especially my mum; how on Earth could I tell her that her nineteen-year-old son was a father? Not to mention my dad, who would probably disown me when I admitted to it.

My heart already sinking to the pit of my stomach, Chloe pulled me into the other room, leaving Olivia, Rosie, Isabelle, and Mum behind. Chloe dragged me into the kitchen, which was almost completely made out of wood.

My sixteen-year-old sister stood in front of me, her hands on her hips. A smirk spread across my face; Chloe always thought she scared me (which, in all honesty, she did most of the time), but right now she was just being immature. "Fabian, where were you? We've been worried sick!" she scolded, pointing her finger at me.

I pushed her finger down and answered, "I was somewhere, but that's none of your business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to ask Isabelle something." I released a small laugh as I started to walk toward the common room again.

I had a plan to ask my oldest sister a favor, but before I even stepped through the doorway, Chloe asked, "You were with Nina, weren't you?"

I stopped dead in my tracks. I didn't turn around to face her, because I was just too scared to do so. I could imagine the furious expression on her face; surprisingly, her voice was soft when she spoke again. "Nina. The mother of your child. Were you seeing her? Are you seeing her currently? Are you dating her?"

I turned around, only to see that there were tears streaming freely down Chloe's face. I didn't know what to do, so I stood in my place and responded, "I'm not dating her, but yes, I met her in a coffee shop. I know you don't want me to, Chloe, but I have to. I'm a father now...I need to take responsibility for my actions. Nina and I are trying to make it work. You have to understand that."

I left without another word. When I stepped back into the common room, I properly greeted everyone, hugging Rosie tightly because she'd been away in college for the past year and a half. Isabelle was out and done with college, and Olivia was still in Junior High; she was in Grade 8. Olivia was probably the most shy and insecure girl I've ever met, but I knew she loved being around me.

I called Isabelle into the other room, far away from Chloe, who was probably still crying in the kitchen. Isabelle followed me into the Den, which, was made of wood too. It seemed all of our house was made of wood. The Den, though, was small, only consisting of one couch, a plush seat and a small table in the middle of the room. Isabelle followed my action by sitting next to me on the couch.

"I need you to do me a favor," I deadpanned, shifting around in my seat uncomfortably. Isabelle narrowed her eyes at me, surely suspecting something was suspicious.

"And what is this favor you speak of?" she questioned, but I already knew she would accept the favor; Isabelle was too nice of a person to decline.

I cleared my throat, looking her in the eye; she'd take me more seriously that way. Isabelle had the same color eyes as me; blue, but not a sky blue or an ocean blue, more like a charcoal blue. As Nina told me over email a few weeks ago, my eyes 'only belonged to me'. Just like I fell for her smile, she told me she fell for my eyes.

Emma had inherited my eyes and Nina's hair, so whenever Nina looked into the eyes of her child, she was reminded of me. Every day, every minute, every second of every day.

I finally said, "I need you to get everyone out of the house."

She looked more shocked than I thought she'd be. Her eyes widened and she tilted her head like a dog, proceeding her actions by inquiring, "Why do you need that?"

"Look, I really can't explain," I groaned, already knowing that this would take a bit of explaining; I couldn't just come out and say that I was a father. Chloe had found out by eavesdropping; I wouldn't have told her a secret like that in a million years. I continued, "I just need you to get everyone out of the house. Make up a lie or something. Take them to your house," I suggested.

Isabelle was 22; she was out of college, dating some guy I had never seen before. She owned her own house, so she'd be able to take everyone out. It took a bit of coaxing, but I eventually got her to agree with me by saying I'd give her 30 pounds and three quarters of my earnings at the next concert Aaron was planning for me. In a blur of movement, Isabelle moved Rosie, Olivia, Mum, and Chloe into her car and disappeared in a flash of light.

I heaved a great sigh and sat back against the couch. I listened to the silence, smiling in spite of myself; Nina and I would be alone.

Nina and I would be alone...where was Nina? I told her to be at my house at noon, and my watch told me it was almost one. I knew she had to go and get Emma at her house, but there was a possibility that she had chickened out and decided not to come. I had told her my address before I left the coffee shop...

I blinked, grabbing my laptop, which sat on the arm of the couch. I opened it up, bringing my email on the screen. The green light on Chat wasn't blinking, so Nina wasn't online, but I sent her a message anyway.

Hey. If you forgot, my address is 12 Oakes Avenue...are you okay? It's fine if you don't come. I just hope you're okay, since you're not online.

I closed the laptop after I sent the Instant Message. She didn't respond, which lowered my spirits, but something better happened.

The doorbell rang.

I ran to the door so fast I don't even remember running to it. I straightened myself out in the quickest manner possible, and when I opened the door, there stood Nina, with my daughter holding her hand, many inches shorter than her mum.

I hadn't seen Emma since approximately August 9th - two days after Nina sent me the photograph. I hadn't seen her since - it had been over a month.

I was beyond surprised when Emma came wobbling towards me on he two steady feet. I had to crouch down to reach her, but when I was her height, she wrapped her small, thin arms around me and I picked her up again. I heard her mumble the word "Daddy" into my shoulder, and I couldn't hide the smile that I issued after I heard that.

"Hey, Emma," I breathed, pulling her closer. "Daddy's here." I rocked on the balls of my feet, moving back and forth.

Nina interrupted, with a playful tone, "Be careful, she falls asleep if you do that."

My eyes widened, and I set Emma down on the ground again. I wanted to spend time with my daughter; not watch her sleep. As fun as that may be, I organized this meeting to have a playdate with her. I wasn't sure that Emma ever had a playdate before...

"Did she?" I asked, stupidly thinking that Nina would be able to read minds. I called myself stupid right after I said it, and when Nina tilted her head in confusion, I asked, "Did Emma ever have a playdate before?"

"Um..." I could tell she wasn't telling me the truth. I gave her the look, and she admitted, "No, she hasn't had a playdate before. There are no two year olds in my neighborhood, and well...no one really wants to spend time with a girl who's mother had her when she was sixteen." She gave me a look like What are you going to do?

An awkward silence issued between us. Nina scratched her hair again, and I told her to come in, which she did, but uncomfortably at that. I called her into the living room, which, once again, had a wood floor and brown leather couches. The television was still on, leaving the show the girls were watching before they left.

Speaking of them, the first thing Nina said was, "Where are your sisters?"

A war started raging in my head; I wanted Nina to trust me, and the way to do that was to tell the truth; but should I tell her the truth in this case? Would she take offense if I told her that I bribed my family to leave? I decided to play safe and tell her a lie; I'm sure that in the future she'd understand. After all, we were still in the process of making things work as teenage parents.

"This is a good spot, though," Nina deadpanned, sitting on the couch, with Emma trying to climb on. I gave my child a small push so she could get on easier, but she scolded me, "You don' have to do that. I can clim' on by myselv."

Even though I was smiling, I sent Nina a look, and she chuckled in response. She mouthed, She's very independent, with a roll of her eyes. I laughed also, and took a seat next to Nina. Emma's legs were so small they barely left the couch.

"Would you say that Emma has an American accent?" I asked, trying to make conversation. Nina laughed once again and simply nodded, nothing uttering out of her mouth.

"Well, considering she lived with her American mother for two years, yes, I'd think she has an American accent. Aaaaaand, now you're wondering why I still have my American accent if I've been living in Britain for three years?"

I nodded, and she explained. After that explanation, I jumped off the couch, asked Nina for permission if I could pick Emma up (Her response was "GOD FABIAN YOU DON'T HAVE TO ASK SHE'S YOUR CHILD TOO"), and I set Emma down on the carpet in the Den.

After I realized that I had only seen Emma two times in the last two months, I asked Nina what Emma liked to play. After she answered, we played together as a dysfunctional family, until I asked Nina a forbidden question.

"Hey, Nina...I...um...I want you to..."

"Spit it out, Fabian," she told me, laughing at my stutter.

I couldn't say it in my head, so I decided to just spit it out. "Nina, would you come to my concert with me? I have one tomorrow in the area, and I want you to come. You're the mother of my child, and we're trying to make things work, and I really want you to come with me."

She didn't say anything right away, and I knew her answer was no. As much as I respected her, I wanted her to come to my concert more than anything.

"I don't think I should," she told me, not daring to meet my eyes. "I don't think I'm ready..."

"That's okay, Nina. That's completely okay. Though, do you still want to hear me play my guitar live?"

Her eyes lit up and she nodded her head feverently. I bolted up the stairs and into my bedroom, grabbed my guitar, and rushed downstairs. Nina didn't say anything, but her ear-to-ear smile talked for her. I remained silent, also, as I hoisted my guitar up into position and started to play the first song that came to mind.

"Oh, but that one night was more than just right; I didn't leave you, 'cause I was all through. Oh, I was overwhelmed, and frankly scared as hell, because I really fell for you...oh, I swear to you, I'll be there for you, this is not a drive-by..."

A/N - Weee. I'm still not comfortable with this story. Maybe I would be, if you reviewed...? *hint hint wink wink nudge nudge* ;)
~Julianna