I have never regretted doing something more in my life.

What was I thinking? Going to a party? I really shouldn't have come.

Why I let my friends talk me into coming to a former baseball player's fourth of July party, I will never know. Though I use the term friends lightly, more like people I hang out with occasionally. I mean, those 'friends' ditched me at the door as soon as we got here. I have been here for two hours now and have only spotted them once and no, they didn't even talk to me the one time we did.

I guess they were sort of distracted.

Last I saw, Molly was making out with some guy, who I don't know the name of. It looked to me like they were more so slobbering all over each though. And Nora? She was off playing Beer Pong in the living room.

Almost an hour has passed since then. I can only assume by now that Molly is off in some random room in this house sleeping with the guy. Also yuck. Who knows how many people have had sex in any of the bedrooms in this house tonight? As for Nora, I'm sure she's drunk off her ass by now. I probably should be worried that she's drunk at a party, but I'm not. I'm sure this isn't the first time she's been so drunk that she could barely stand. Plus Chad, a guy who's totally in love with her, a fact she's completely clueless about, has probably been following her around all night like a little lost puppy. Going off the rumors that I have heard about these parties, he is usually the one that takes her home, so she'll be fine.

I feel bad for Chad though, because Nora is a complete snob and will never give him the time of day. If she's going to date a guy, he has to be rich and handsome.

Which is both what Chad is not: cute, not handsome, and middle class not rich.

I can only hope he finds a girl who will truly deserve him someday cause he is a sweet guy.

Taking a sip of my now warm beer, nearly gagging at the disgusting taste, I glance around the room, my gaze never settling on one thing for long. Wouldn't want a guy to think I'm looking at him and want him to approach me, you know?

I don't see why people like parties. All I see is a bunch of teenagers doing stupid shit, stupid shit that they will more than likely regret tomorrow.

"Looking good, baby girl."

I glance up towards the heavens, silently asking if someone up there hates me, and sent this guy to torture me. I was hoping to be left alone, but I guess not. I scrunch my nose up, completely disgusted by being called a baby girl. I mean, seriously, can't a guy just approach you and say hey for once? I can deal with a simple hey but looking good baby girl?

Yeah, hell no.

When I turn around, I spot a guy I have never seen before. He doesn't go to my school; that I do know. Or well, he didn't, since all the seniors graduated a few weeks ago. He's probably from the next town over and got invited by someone.

He would have been cute, but calling me baby girl instantly put me off.

He has dark brown hair with natural lighter brown highlights, brown eyes, and he has one dimple on the right side of his mouth. Yet the way he's leering at me like a piece of meat makes him unattractive, even if he didn't just call me that awful pet name.

"Uh-huh. How many girls have you said that to tonight?" I ask him, taking another drink of my warm beer. I never break eye contact with him, making sure he can tell that I am not interested even the slightest bit.

He only thinks I look good cause I'm wearing a tight-fitting black dress, which leaves little to the imagination. A black dress that hangs a little too low at the top and rides up on my thighs way too high. I guarantee that if I was wearing just a t-shirt and jeans, he wouldn't have approached me. I have been wishing all night that I did end up wearing a t-shirt and jeans. I'm not much of a dress girl. I prefer comfy clothes that cover me in places I don't want showing, like my chest and upper thighs.

"Only you, baby girl. Just couldn't help myself. You look amazing in that dress. Definitely, a temptation I can't just walk by." The guy gives me what he must think is his most charming grin.

When he is just making himself look like a crazy person, he also has something in between his teeth. I think it's some pot brownie that someone at the party brought, but who knows? Not that I'm about to tell him that, though.

"That ever work for you? Are girls dumb enough to believe that? I'm what? Probably the fifth girl you said that to tonight?"

He seems to be rendered speechless going off of his lack of response, probably wasn't expecting me to tell off so directly.

Going off his cocky attitude, he doesn't get shot down often, that or he pretends he doesn't. For the sake of my gender, I hope that I am not the only one who's turned him down tonight. I like to think we women have higher standards than this guy. I simply just roll my eyes at him and start to walk away, yearning to find an exit. I stumble, almost plummeting, when I feel someone's fingers latch onto my arm, yanking me back to their chest.

Turning around, I find myself facing the crazy smiling dude again. I put as much distance between him and me that I can, which isn't much cause he still has an unyielding hold of my arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" The guy snarls, and spittle goes flying out of his mouth. I feel the disgusting water spots as they land on my forehead and nose. Feeling nauseated, I quickly wiped away the spit, casting a repulsed look at my hand.

I really need to wash my hands and face the second this guy releases me.

"Away from you. Now, let me go," I answer firmly, while trying to remain calm.

I try to get him to unleash my arm as a hostage, but he doesn't. Panic begins to fill my body when the grasp he has on my arm tightens, tight enough that I know there will be a bruise there tomorrow.

A bruise that I have no idea how I'm going to hide from my parents, since I can't simply cover it with long sleeves.

Unremitting, I try to tug away from him and when I feel like I'm almost free, he lets go. Not expecting him to suddenly let go, I go flying back into someone. The cup of beer I was holding lands somewhere on the ground. The person I went flying into just grabs ahold of my hips in a gentle but firm grip to steady me.

"You alright?" They whisper, their warm, minty breath fans across my ear and cheek. Goosebumps start to form on my arms.

I inhale sharply, recognizing the voice of the person behind me immediately. Having heard his voice in the school hallways more times than I care to count.

Cage Trevor.

He's our small town, called Rushmore in Montana, golden boy.

You know where everyone in town loves him and he can do no wrong?

Yeah, that's him.

I will admit he's very good-looking with his sandy blonde hair, blue-gray eyes, muscular build, and towering over my five-three frame at six feet three inches tall. I will also admit he could give the Abercrombie and Fitch models a run for their money. He's that good-looking. He's the guy all the girls in our school dream about dating and all the guys dream about being. Or at the very least, be friends with. They still do, probably always will.

Well, except me, that is.

He's a huge player. I had seen him flirting with four different girls before, all on the same day.

I snap out of my thoughts when I realize I still haven't answered him.

"I'm fine," I tell him, stepping forward and out of his grasp. His hands drop away from my hips the moment I do.

Looking in front of me, I see that the crazy dude is long gone. Thank goodness for that. I turn around to face Cage and at the same time push my black-framed glasses up, which were slipping off the bridge of my nose.

"Good would hate for a pretty little thing like you to be injured at a party." Cage says while checking me out. "At least he does it respectfully," I grumble in my mind. He allows his eyes just a short flick down my body and back up to mine.

He probably thinks complimenting me is going to make me swoon.

I restrain myself from rolling my eyes. Half a penny is worth more than all of these guys' compliments tonight.

"Save your compliments for someone stupid enough to believe them," I bite out, very much annoyed at this point and just wanting to leave.

"Pretty and feisty. My favorite type." He gives me the Cage Trevor trademark grin.

"Wow really? I feel so honored. It's such a shame you're not mine, though." I pat him on his cheek in a condescending way, bestowing upon him a fake pout before walking away.

Gosh, he's so arrogant.

How people can stand him, I will never know. The only thing he has going for him is his looks, but looks don't matter if your personality is unpleasant. Oh, and I guess he has baseball going for him since he's some all-star or whatever. I don't waste my time going to any of the games like everyone else, so I'll just take everyone's word that he's that good.

"Hey wait, I'm sorry!"

I slowly turn around and see that Cage followed me. Surely I'm not that interesting? Doesn't he have anything better to do?

Or someone more so.

"Have a drink with me. I'll make it up to you for being an absolute tool... please?" Cage gives me puppy dog eyes that more than likely he always gets his way when he uses them.

I study him and weigh the pros and cons of having a drink with him. I could either have a drink with him or not. Would I regret turning him down later on? Possibly. Despite how much satisfaction I would get from turning him down, I decided to agree to have one drink with him.

Just one drink couldn't hurt, right?

"Fine one drink." I give him a look so he knows I mean just one, then follow him as he walks away.

"Cool, I'm Cage, by the way. And you are?"

It's a small enough town that he should know my name, but he probably forgot it.

"Aurora," I tell him.

I have a feeling in my gut that's telling me this night is going to change my entire life. Be it for better or worse, I don't know.

I wouldn't find out how very right that feeling was until two months later.

When I find out, I'm pregnant.

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