I never imagined myself in this situation at the age of sixteen, and a junior in high school.

I was sat in the girl’s toilet, clutching a positive pregnancy test in my hands.

My throat was tight and my eyes were stinging.

How could I be so stupid?

I'm just a kid myself, what am I supposed to do?

My Mom was going to kill me.

She'd kick me out and disown me.

On the bright side my father left when I was just three, so I didn't have to worry about him beating Zayn to pulp.

The positive plus sign on the plastic stick was taunting me, especially with the words '7-8 weeks' written underneath it.

The first sign was the first period I missed, I put it down to stress, as my grandfather passed away. Next I skipped another period, and soon followed the sickness I was experiencing every day, and my aversion to foods that I normally loved told me to get a pregnancy test.

The worst thing about all this is that the father is the bad boy of the school.

His name is Zayn Malik.

Or as I like to call him 'the asshole who knocked me up'.

He was seventeen years old, and was soon turning eighteen.

My brain went into overload as I remembered that night.

"I don't think this is a good idea..." I said nervously, ringing my hands awkwardly.

A senior named David Fisher was throwing a house party while his parents were away in Japan.

I could hear the music coming from inside the large, white house.

I could see the silhouettes of people inside, as they moved and danced.

"Come on, Ana! Loosen up!" Kathrine who I call ‘Kat’ told me, grabbing my arm and leading me up the stairs of the porch.

There were groups gathered outside, and a few people were passed out drunk already, despite it only being eight PM.

As soon as we got inside, the smell of cheap alcohol hit your senses.

I cringed in disgust, pulling my arm away from Kat and taking a look around.

I'm going to get some drinks; I'll be back in a second!" She shouted over the loud, bass music.

I merely nodded, observing my surroundings.

Bodies were meshed together, and I think I was the only one without a drink of some sort in my hand.

I recognized a few people here.

I was never one for parties; I'd rather have stayed home with a movie and snacks.

My mom encouraged me to come out, which was weird.

What mom allowed her sixteen year old to go to a bustling party?

My eyes scanned the living room of where I was stood.

My eyes locked with someone, and I focused on the brown orbs staring into mine.

Zayn Malik was staring at me from where he stood, leaning against the fireplace, a drink in his hand, and talking to his friend Harry Styles.

They were both in the year above us, they were both seniors too.

Zayn had dark hair, almost black. His skin was fairly tanned, with a few tattoos on his arms.

His bottom lip was lightly fuller than his top. And he had the most beautiful eyelashes ever.

We stared at each other for a few minutes, until I caught Harry's attention.

He leaned down to whisper something into Zayn's ear, and his lips turned into a smirk as he lifted his cup to his lips.

The look on his face made me very uncomfortable.

"Here!" I jumped when I felt Kat grab my arm, snapping my attention away from Zayn.

She handed me a cup.

"What is it?" I asked, shaking the cup slightly, and watching the clear liquid slosh around.

"Lemonade and Vodka." I nodded and took a sip, delighted by how good it actually tasted.

"It's good."

"Let's go dance." She told me, pulling on my arm for the hundredth time that night, and leading me to a group of swarming bodies.

A few hours and drinks later, I was rather drunk and leaning against the side of the house, ready to pass out.

My head rested against the brick wall, and I was breathing through my nose.

I lost Kat shortly after dancing with her, and she disappeared with none other than Harry Styles.

"Are you okay?" A voice asked, startling me.

I opened my eyes. Of course I had to be disturbed by Zayn Malik.

"I'm fine, just a tiny bit drunk." I shrugged, showing him how drunk I was by indicating with my fingers.

"You're a lightweight." He chuckled, leaning on the wall next to me.

"Pfft! And you're a man whore. Why are you by me?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips and swaying.

"Easy there, Princess." Zayn laughed, holding onto my waist to keep my upright.

This position forced him to stand directly in front of me, and my hands held onto his forearms. His breath was hitting my face, and I could smell his cologne faintly on the black t-shirt he was wearing.

"You smell good." I blurted out, inhaling deeply.

"Thanks." He laughed again, pressing me back against the wall.

"Stop laughing at me." I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Sorry, Princess."

"Stop calling me that." I exclaimed, hitting his chest. Zayn caught my hands and pinned my arms above my head.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my tone worried and full of confusion. I sobered up slightly.

"Just relax." He whispered, moving his head closer to mine. I almost pushed him away. But, instead, I let his lips meet mine in a slow kiss.

He tasted of cheap vodka and cigarettes.

Although, he tasted so good! I couldn't get enough.

The kiss became more urgent, and he let my arms drop to his shoulders. His hips pressed against mine and my fingers tangled in his hair.

Soon enough, he was reaching under my dress and pulling my panties down my legs.

He stuffed them into the pocket of his tight jeans, and let his hands rest on my bare thighs.

His mouth went to my neck, and my mouth opened in a silent moan.

Why hadn't I stopped him yet?

I was sober enough to know what I was doing, or about to do.

I heard the distinctive sound of Zayn unbuckling his belt, and dropping his jeans and boxers to the ground. I heard a rustling sound, which I assumed was a condom wrapper being torn open.

Was I really about to lose my virginity to the guy who finds fun in making others miserable?

Apparently so, because I soon felt Zayn hitch my leg around his hip. My fingers were digging into his shoulders, and his were digging into my waist and thigh.

He pressed his lips against mine as he entered me inch by inch, and I whimpered quite loudly.

It hurt so bad.

He started thrusting rather quickly, and soon the pain turned to pleasure.

My back was hitting the wall with every thrust, and I hoped to god nobody came out to find us like this.

I finally understood what the girls who hooked up with him were talking about. He was fantastic at this.

Zayn soon found his release, and groaned against my lips.

He pulled out and let my leg steadily hit the floor.

Both my legs felt like jelly, and I wobbled slightly in my wedges.

Zayn steadied me and pulled my dress down after he'd disposed of the well-used condom, and pulled his jeans back up.

What came next surprised me most, even more than the incident that just occurred.

"I'll see you soon." He grinned, showing off his pearly teeth.

He kissed me quickly and walked off, disappearing round the corner, with my panties still in his pocket.

stared in shock.

A terrible feeling erupted throughout my veins.

What the fuck had I just done?

I snapped myself back to the present moment.

I stood up after reminiscing.

I shoved the pregnancy test into the bottom of my bag, flushing the toilet and walking out the stall.

I walked over to the sinks and washed my hands slowly, still trying to let the news sink in.

I gazed into the mirror, wincing at the reflection staring back at me.

My skin was sickly pale, and my eyes were red from where I'd rubbed them to stop myself from crying.

My eyes focused on my stomach, where it was flat for now, but that would soon change.

Actually, it would only change if I chose to keep the...fetus.

The door to the girl’s toilets swung open, and some freshmen walked in, giggling and talking nonsense.

I hurried out, to where Kat was waiting outside.

She was the only person I'd told about my situation, and she knew exactly who the father was, after I'd blurted it out in my drunken state when we got to her house.

"So?" She asked as I approached her.

We started to walk down the corridor, to somewhere more private and quiet.

"It was positive, I'm pregnant." I said bluntly, feeling my eyes fill up for the second time today.

"Oh, Ana." She sighed, rubbing my arm.

"I can't believe this! What the fuck am I going to do? I'm pregnant by a guy who sleeps in a different girls bed every night!" I yelled quietly, not wanting anyone to overhear our conversation.

"You need to tell Zayn."

"No way."

"You can't do anything without telling him, who knows, he might be father material."

"Yeah, right. He probably can't even remember that night." I scoffed.

"You still need to tell him, he has a right to know."

As much as I hated to admit it, she was right.

I did need to tell him.

But, not yet.

Notes