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I walked out of the room and down the hallway. Nothing seemed to be going right this month. The love of my life kicked me out of his house because I was prego with his kid, the press got a hold of that information and spread it world-wide, making it seem as if I am the bad guy, and now, I just had to cancel all the tour dates for the next year.

I got into the cab that was waiting outside for me.

"90210." I said. The driver nodded and made her way to my doctor's appointment. The bump of my stomach was starting to stretch out my shirts, just barley fitting underneath my hoodies. Five fucking months, and he still won't talk to me. I've pretty much been isolated from the world.

Just as I got out of the car, Remembering Sunday by All Time Low started playing, letting me know that someone was calling me. I checked the ID. Panda bear.

"H-hello?" I asked. I could hear him gulp on the other end. "Is there s-something you w-want Pete, or did you j-just call me to mock me?" I asked. He sighed.

I could tell he was biting his lip, and for once in his life, he was at a loss for words. So I sighed and hung up, walking into the doctors office with my hood pulled up over my head. I signed in and took a seat, grabbed the nearest magazine with, none other than me and my fat stomach on the front in the lower corner. The headline read "Paige Katy: Left or Leave?", and I knew exactly what that mean.

The whole three paragraphed article was about whether I was kicked out or if I left. And I would have cried, had the nurse not called, "Katy,". I got up and followed her to a green room and waited for the doctor. My phone went off again.

Panda bear flashed across the screen again.

"What?!" I demanded. He sighed again. "Pete, if you're not going to say anything to me, then don't even bother calling." I told him and waited for him to say...something....anything to me. "I really can't deal with this right now. I'll be by later to show you what your kid looks like." I told him simply and hung up.

The doctor came in shortly and smiled.

"Hello Ms. Katy. How have you been?" she asked. I sighed.

"Well, I guess. I haven't had coffee in three months and I've had weird cravings for peanut butter and mustard sandwiches lately." I told her. She smiled and turned to her equipment.

"That's great news! Means the baby's doing well!" she beamed. Notice how everyone in LA is either to stuck in their own world to notice you, or way overly happy. But I smiled anyway. Sure, I wasn't ready to be a mom, but the press already knew about the baby, taking adoption out of the picture, and I'm five months along, taking abortion (which wasn't even an option in the first place) out also.

The doctor spread the cold, blue gel on my stomach and searched for my baby's heart beat. When she found it, she smiled.

And when I looked at the black and blue circle of a baby's head, I couldn't help but smile. It was one of the most amazing things I'd ever seen in my life.

"There's the head, the legs, and arms." she said, pointing them all out to me. I smiled even wider. There was a life growing inside of me, and in four months, would be growing outside of me. Oh my god, in 16 weeks, I'm going to be a mom.

We finished up with our picture play, and I got cleaned up.

"Would you like some copies?" she asked. My doctor knew that I still didn't want to know the sex of the baby since I had yet to buy an apartment. Actually, I was thinking about moving back to Wisconsin after the baby's born and getting a place there.

But I nodded and smiled as she handed me four copies of different angles of my baby.

"Is the dad ready?" she asked. My happy face turned down. "Oh....still?" she asked. She knew the whole thing. So I nodded.

"He's stupid. With a girl like you, he'd be lucky if you were the mother of his child." she told me, rubbing my back. I smiled through my throat drying up. I paid for my pictures and visit then headed outside and caught a cab back to Pete's house. I thought I'd be fair and let him see what he's missing.

I knocked on the door and waited, nervously. When it opened, I wasn't surprised with what I saw; Pete with an unshaved stubble and dark red eyes with heavy blue bags underneath. That basterd was getting what he deserved.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I told you I'd stop by." I answered. He glared at me, but it wasn't a mad glare. It was just a...a glare. I shoved the pictures at him, only having his eyes move from mine to my stomach then back.

"You kept it?" he asked. I rolled my eyes.

"I had no choice, dumb ass." I said. He looked....hurt. "Would you just look at those already?" I asked. He looked at the pictures in hands. And looked. And looked.

"This is what....our baby looks like?" he asked. What was he? Born yesterday?

"So far. Four months, it'll look cuter." I told him. He smiled at the pictures.

"Petey!" I heard someone call. Pete jerked his head up and spun around as I tired to look over his shoulder. A face I'd never expect to see next to Pete's showed up. It was Ashlee Simpson. She smiled at Pete, then at me.

"Pete, you didn't tell me Paige was coming over!" she said, excited to see me. "Come in!" she said, pulling on the arm of my hoodie to get me inside the house. Who did she think she was? Oprah?

I glared at Pete, him only giving me a sad look.

"So, how is the baby?" Ashlee asked. I shrugged. Did I really want to talk to this boyfriend stealer? Well, technically, he wasn't my boyfriend when they started dating, whenever that was.

"Well. The doctor says that I'm doing fine." I answered. She smiled and nodded. There was a silence for a couple of minutes. "I-I have to go. Bye Pete." I said and stormed out of the house. I stared walking down to the bus stop and realized....I needed a car.