The week flew by, with rumors swirling about who Nikki's baby father is, and Brandon barely speaking to me. My relationship feels like it's falling apart—can things get any worse?

I wake up at 7:00 am for school, needing to pick up Arlene today, while my dad will be home alone tonight, no Stacy around.

I dress in long pants and a V-neck top, tying my hair in a ponytail.

Brandon hasn't texted, and I feel like he's hiding something from me, though I don't know what.

In the kitchen, I grab breakfast. Freddie asks, "Haven't seen Brandon; is he around?"

I don't answer—I barely know my boyfriend anymore, especially with that girl Nikki always around him.

We were supposed to hang out tomorrow evening, but he claims he's busy, and I doubt he's working.

After picking up Arlene, we head to school. It's Friday, so there's bound to be a party.

Arlene mentions, "I heard there's a party at Brandon's house tonight."

Funny, I didn't hear about it.

I park and get out, noticing Nikki and her friends flirting with the boys.

I say, "Hey, they're not interested in you; get a life."

Stephanie approaches, "Just because you hang out with them doesn't make you popular."

Arlene snaps back, "Yes, it does, bitch!"

Stephanie slaps her, and everyone gasps.

I scream, "You bitch!" and jump on Stephanie, punching her face. Someone pulls me off, and I instinctively punch back, gasping when I see it's Brandon.

He holds his nose, saying, "Thanks, Ana, that's how you repay me," before walking away.

Stephanie lies on the ground, crying and holding her nose, while her friends try to help her.

The commotion catches the principal, Mr. Johnson's attention.

He approaches, demanding, "What's going on? Why is Stephanie on the ground with a bloody nose?"

Everyone is silent.

Jordan says, "She was focusing on her makeup and tripped over her high heels."

Mr. Johnson retorts, "That doesn't explain the black eye and bruises."

Jordan smirks, "It's a very complicated fall."

Stephanie protests, "He's lying, Mr. Johnson; it was Ana!"

I feign innocence, "Me? I think you have a concussion, Stephanie. Go see the nurse."

Everyone chuckles as she gets up.

Mr. Johnson says, "Let's go, Stephanie. Get cleaned up. Everyone else, to class."

As everyone disperses, my friends and I laugh as we head inside.

I say, "Nice excuse, Jordan."

He brags, "Never underestimate the master of lying; it took years to become a pro."

I don't see Brandon for the rest of the morning after punching him.

Justin says, "Hi Ana, we're going to the party; no excuses." I sigh, knowing I'll regret going.

At lunchtime, still no sign of Brandon, and it's suspicious that Nikki isn't in the cafeteria either.

Jacob asks, "Coincidence that Brandon and Nikki aren't here?"

I nod, but my trust in Brandon is fading.

_______

Brandon's POV

After Ana punches me, I head to Biology, waiting for the bell. Nikki enters just before it rings and sits next to me.

She says, "I'm keeping it, and you need to tell your 'girlfriend' soon, or I will."

I sigh, "Just give me time."

Nikki insists, "You have until Monday."

I open my bag and see the ultrasound picture I bought to keep safe.

At lunch, I go to eat in the city, and of course, Nikki follows me. I stop at the pizza place where I work.

My manager greets me, "Hey Brandon, my delivery man, what's up?"

I order a small pepperoni pizza and a soda, telling him to take it out of my paycheck.

I sit down, scrolling through my phone, looking at a picture of Ana and me at the beach—good memories.

Nikki interrupts, and I groan, wishing she would leave me alone. Just because I'm the father doesn't mean I want to be with her.

I say, "Hi Nikki," trying to stay civil.

She sits next to me, touching my arm, and I fight the urge to snap.

My friend arrives with my order, frowning, "Is this your girlfriend, Brandon?"

Nikki chimes in, "Actually, yes. We go way back, and I'm pregnant," patting her stomach.

I roll my eyes.

I say, "She's not my girlfriend."

My friend laughs, "Right, but how do you explain her pregnancy?"

Before I can respond, he adds, "You probably got drunk and didn't know what you were doing."

That's exactly what happened.

I admit, "That's pretty much it."

Nikki glares at me.

My friend says, "Good luck, mate," then leaves.

Nikki complains, "I didn't want people to get the wrong idea." I pick up my pizza and stand up.

I reply, "Oh, but they already have," and walk away, leaving her to ponder.

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