In school the next day, news is flying around. Everyone is belittling me, excepting Sarah and my friends. So when a voice asks before Science class, "Need some help, angel?" I accept without looking to see who it is. "Yes, could you carry..." My voice trails off as I look up into Tristan's blue eyes. He grins a cocky grin and flexes his muscles. I think I might've drooled a bit. He smirks. "Like what you see?" he purrs. I slap him on the arm as he picks up my various things and starts for the Science classroom. Not wanting to look like a weakling, I say, "I can take some of it, you know." He raises an eyebrow. "You're pregnant, and besides, I'm a gentleman." I scoff at the gentleman bit, but he just keeps walking.

When we get there, he walks me to my desk and sets my stuff down on it. Then he seats himself next to me, not before pulling the chair out for me. Like a gentleman.

***

I go to P.E. next. Tristan has a free period, so he sits in the stands and watches us play. I can feel his eyes on me specifically, so I make a special effort in trying to hit the ball over the net.

Tristan's p.o.v

"Dude, you are so whipped!" Max's voice startles me from my thoughts as I watch Alex play. Perhaps it's creepy to say so, but I like watching her in gym. Even though she's pregnant, she's still the best on the team. I turn to face Max, rolling my eyes. "Me? Whipped? Yeah, right." He chuckles and says, "Don't deny it, Daniels. We both know it's true." I look over at Ty, my other buddy. He smirks. "Hate to say it, Tristan, but I agree with Max on this one. You are totally whipped." "You guys! I'm not whipped! I have a girlfriend, remember?"

They just shake their heads and laugh at me. "Dude, your girlfriend is an asshole. No offense." Ty says. "None taken," I reply. To be honest, I kinda agree with them. I only keep her because of my reputation. I'm a "badboy" and they date the popular ones. That's how it works. But I'm getting tired of Claire's shit. I might dump her sometime soon. The way she acts around girls she doesn't like and other hot boys disgusts me. She flirts like she doesn't even have a boyfriend, then gets jealous whenever I even talk to a random girl. She's a bully and a bimbo. I can tell that she's planning some big embarrassing spectacle to get Alex to back off from me, even though it's not necessary since we're just friends, at least for now. But I won't let her hurt Alex. If she tries anything, I swear to god, I'll make sure she knows to leave Alex the fuck alone.

Alex's p.o.v

After last period, Tristan approaches me at my locker. "Hey," he greets. "You doing anything this afternoon?" I nod and slam my locker shut. "Yeah, I'm going shopping for clothes and stuff for the baby," I say. Last night I decided that I'm going to keep the baby, rather than give it up for adoption. I'll find a way to come up with the money.

Tristan appears dazed at my words, so I say, "You can always come with me." He smiles, a genuine grin. "Sure! I'd love to accompany you." I smile back. "Great! You can pick me up in 10 minutes, kay?" He nods and we part ways.

I rush home to get changed. I take forever to pick out my clothes, of course. I mean, come on. This is Tristan Daniels we're talking about. I have to look my best. Eventually, I pick out some black diamond-studded skinny jeans, a crop-top, and my vans. I do my makeup light and curl my hair before grabbing my black clutch and tossing in my keys, lipgloss, money, and cellphone. I dart out the door at precisely one minute before the scheduled time. Tristan is waiting.

We quickly drive to the mall. When we get there, I drag him to the first baby store I see.

***

"OMG, these are adorable!" I say to Tristan, showing him the pink kitty cat pajamas. He rolls his eyes, but adds them to his ever-growing pile of items to buy.

We've been in the store for 30 minutes, and I've bought pajamas, booties, hats, a collapsible crib, a rocking chair, pillows, bedding, paint for it's walls, a stroller, and a mobile that plays "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." I think it's safe to say I've exhausted myself. My back really hurts, but I'm trying not to let on. After Tristan has collected the pajamas, we finally go to check out.

 The cashier is obviously a bimbo. She flirts shamelessly with Tristan. "Hey," she says in a voice so sugary sweet I feel I might gag. "So, I don't know about you, but I think my phone's broken." "Why's that?" Tristan asks in a dry tone. "Cause it doesn't have your number in it," she says, winking. I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Tristan is struggling to keep his emotions at bay as well. A smile breaks out on my face, as I definitely want to hear Tristan when he tells this chick off. She huffs angrily and trys again. "You know, we could have lots of fun," she whispers, trying but failing to be seductive. He rolls his eyes. She trys another pick-up line. "Are you McDonald's? Because I'm lovin' it." This time, we both fail and burst out laughing. This girl is so pathetic!

When she realizes we're laughing at her, her eyes narrow threateningly and Tristan grabs my bags quickly and takes hold of my hand. Before I have time to comprehend what's happening, he's pulling me out of the store and into the mall crowd.

I happily let Tristan tow me around, reveling in the fact that his hand is holding mine. It feels so warm compared to my own pale and cold one. It's very soft, to my surprise. I would expect a guy like him to have rough, callused hands. I wonder if he uses moisturizer?

He breaks into my thoughts by pulling me into a Starbucks. We grab a booth and sit there, panting, cheeks red from the lack of oxygen. He smiles at me and says, "Well, that was something, wasn't it?" If only he knew.... I smile and nod. "I'm gonna go order a caramel frap, you want something?" I nod. "I'll take a vanilla bean frap, decaf." He nods and  goes to order our drinks.

When he comes back, he   places my    drink in my hand. It tingles from   the contact. Then Tristan does something unexpected. He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. I can barely stifle the gasp. But I don't pull away, so we sit like that, holding hands, as we drink our starbucks. I'm basking in the glory of the fact that I, Alex Foster, and he, Tristan Daniels, are holding hands.