Half of the story starts with Schaffer Purdy, Emily Tyler, and a dropped pencil. Schaffer and Emily were in the same math class, although neither one was entirely aware of the other. Emily sat right in front as she always did. Schaffer on the other hand took to the back of the class. That day he had been moved up in an attempt by his teacher to get him to stop talking to his friends. Emily's pencil soared across her notebook, not missing a single detail. Schaffer sat slumped back in his chair, his notebook open, but completely blank. His pencil was being used more as a form of entertainment for him as he spun it around his fingers. It slipped between his thumb and forefinger and landed on the floor with a tiny clink. Emily heard it but ignored it. He can get it himself she thought and continued to take notes.

Schaffer didn't need his pencil. He certainly wasn't using it. Even so, he was baffled that Emily didn't even flinch when it fell. He could have easily got it himself, or even easier, just left it there. But Schaffer Purdy wasn't about taking the easy way out. Besides, she was kind of cute and he was bored. He knew about her. Class valedictorian, no one could get near her. That didn't bother Schaffer. In fact, it only compelled him. He loved a good challenge.

"Excuse me," he said leaning forward in his seat until he was right in her left ear. He was delighted in how sweet her hair smelt. Like a soft breeze floating through the grass in the summertime.

Emily looked back, but couldn't make out the face. She didn't bother to make any extra moves to figure out who it was. She just kept on writing.

"I dropped my pencil," Schaffer said softly. "Do you think you could get it for me?"

Emily sighed and pulled out an extra pencil from her binder with her free hand and held it out for whoever was behind her.

"That's real sweet," he said with a soft chuckle that annoyed Emily to no end. "But I don't want your pencil. I want mine."

Emily was glad the teacher had stopped momentarily so she could turn around to glare at the bothersome boy sitting behind her. She was surprised to see Schaffer Purdy smiling at her as if he had just discovered fire. Even more so, she was surprised when she felt her demeanor softening. She wasn't the type of girl that fell for the type of guy Schaffer was, star of the football team, but suddenly she could see why some girls did.

"I'm sorry," Emily said, angry at herself for being so kind to him.

If anyone should be apologizing, it should be him. At the same time, she just couldn't help herself. She quickly reached down and picked his pencil off the ground, and held it out to him.

"Here," she said slowly.

He looked right into her eyes and something happened to them both. He was no longer just a football player and she was no longer just the valedictorian, a challenge. They were just two people meeting for the very first time.

"Thanks," Schaffer said quietly, his eyes glued to Emily.

"You're welcome," Emily said as he took his pencil back.

Emily lingered for a few seconds more, then turned back around in her seat. Schaffer stared at the back of her head for the rest of the class, and Emily did nothing but think of him. 

That Friday night, Emily went to her first-ever varsity football game. She convinced herself it was solely for the experience itself. She had never been to a football game before, and it was the last home game of her senior year. Surely, she could not end her high school years without going to a single football game. But when she sat down and the game started, she quickly realized that she had no idea what was going on. And, unwillingly, her eyes seemed to gravitate towards only one thing. She watched him the whole time, running, falling, diving, and tackling. She hoped no one noticed her fixation. No one did. No one except the person she was watching.

After the game, Schaffer did everything he could to find Emily. He searched high and low, pushed through crowds of people, all of whom were ready to congratulate him on yet another great game, but she was nowhere to be found. Schaffer sighed in disappointment and turned towards the locker room. Just as he did, he spotted her in the parking lot. Behind rows and rows of cars, Schaffer watched her as she opened her car door.

"Emily," he shouted as he jogged towards her. 

She stopped and looked, even waited for him to catch up to her.

"Emily," Schaffer said again. He had no smooth lines. No tricks or trades. Only the desire to talk to her and hear her voice.

"Yes?" Emily said, half in her car and half out.

"Um," Schaffer hadn't thought much past catching up to her. He was just happy he had. "I was wondering if maybe you'd like to go out. With me. Sometime?" 

Please? he thought but didn't say.

"Maybe," she said, but there was no maybe about it. They went out. Then again, and again, and again until they were inseparable, but their story didn't end there. It was only the beginning.

Fast-forward through first, second, and third dates, driving around late at night, holding hands, hugging, kissing, meeting the parents, sharing desserts, joking, laughing, saying I love you, and they ended up here.

Schaffer and Emily sat uncomfortably on his parent's couch. His mom was at his aunt's house, his dad and brother were at the gym. They were the only ones home. They didn't look at each other. They didn't even talk. Both stared at the coffee table in front of them and waited the longest three minutes of their lives.

Schaffer checked his watch.

"It's time."

They looked at each other. This was it. Two lines and life as they knew it was over, everything would change. One line and life would continue as if nothing had happened. Emily reached for the little white stick sitting on the coffee table.

"Wait," Schaffer said urgently and snatched her hand and held it tightly in his. "Look at me, Em."

Emily turned her attention to him even though every muscle in her body itched in the other direction.

"What is it, Schaffer?" she said, impatiently glancing back towards the coffee table.

"Em," Schaffer said earnestly, pleading. Gently he pulled her face back towards him and took a deep breath. "Emily." A pause. "Will you marry me?"

"But Schaffer," A glance towards the coffee table. "We don't know-"

"I don't care about that. I mean, I do, but, it won't change my mind either way. If we, if you are pregnant we'll get married right away. If not, we'll wait a little bit. But Emily, I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."

Emily said nothing. Schaffer waited, not so much for a yes, but to see whether she could keep her eyes on him or look back at the coffee table before she gave it to him.

"Schaffer," she said softly and he knew. "I have to know."

Schaffer let go of her hand and nodded sadly. If she wasn't pregnant she wouldn't marry him. But that didn't mean he wanted her to be, at least he didn't think so. No, definitely not.

Emily picked up the test off the coffee table and brought it to her face, so close that Schaffer could not see it. Emily stared at it, and two little pink lines stared right back at her. She dropped the test on the floor and started to cry. Schaffer wrapped his arms around Emily and pulled her close.

After Emily didn't stop crying for a couple of minutes, Schaffer assumed the worst, but he had to be sure.

"So you are... you're pregnant?" He asked as Emily pulled away from him. 

She sniffled and wiped her eyes.

"Of course I am, Schaffer," she said sharply, much more sharply than anything Schaffer had ever heard from her before. He was taken aback by it at first, but then remembered the situation and quickly wrote it off. "What the hell did you think I was crying for?"

"I don't know, tears of joy?" He offered sheepishly.

"I need some tissues," Emily got up harshly and hurried to the kitchen. 

Schaffer quickly followed behind.

Emily wiped her nose and her eyes and got herself together. All the while Schaffer waited patiently.

"So..." Schaffer said after he couldn't wait one more second. "Do you want to get married?"

Emily pulled about ten tissues quickly from the box. So quickly that she ripped a couple in half. She just sighed and rolled her eyes.

"God, Schaffer," she said as she blew her nose.

"What, Em?" He said, trying desperately to not show his annoyance and anger. 

But it wasn't working. His emotions were boiling over and pouring out in the space between them.

"You don't have to Schaffer, really, I'll be...it'll be fine."

"I know I don't have to. I want to. More than anything. Emily -"

He stopped for a second, she was looking away from him, staring straight at her tissues. He put his hands on her shoulders and ducked his head, looking into her eyes. She finally looked up.

"It doesn't matter if you're pregnant or not, I mean it does matter. But it's not why I want to marry you. You know what I see when I look into my future?"

"I don't know," Emily said with a shake of her head. "Football?"

"You, Em. And a house. And a kid now, I guess. So, it's not exactly the right timing, who cares? Isn't this where we were heading anyway?"

Emily stayed silent for a few seconds before a smile started to form on her face. That small smile gave Schaffer everything he was looking for.

"So, Emily Mae Tyler," Schaffer knelt on the kitchen floor and took Emily's hand. She was laughing now, and Schaffer smiled so much, his face was starting to hurt. "Will you marry me?"

Schaffer thought the happiest day of his life was that day in the kitchen when Emily agreed to marry him. Then, the day he married Emily on that sunny August afternoon, he swore to himself that there was no way he could ever be happier. But then came the night when Emily shook Schaffer awake with tears and sweat rolling down her face.

She was scared, how could she not be? Schaffer was too, more than he ever thought possible. They spent hours in the hospital. Hours spent in pain for both of them. Physical pain for Emily, as she worked through the birth of her baby, and emotional pain for Schaffer as he sat there helpless, watching. But within seconds all that disappeared like cotton candy on a warm tongue. Schaffer held this tiny delicate little thing and stared deeply into his own eyes. This was his son. Matthew Schaffer Purdy.