Andy, You're A Star

By the time I sat in the doctors office later that month, I wasn't so afraid anymore.

I guess it was the fact that I had time to sit and think about it, and it wouldn't be so bad. Having a baby was something I wanted to do with Oli, but I wasn't expecting the responsibility until I was a little bit older. I mean, I was only nineteen! Nobody plans on a baby that early.

But even now, after my missed period and the past twenty minutes of silence I spent in the doctors office, I wasn't scared, or angry. I was almost pleased, in a way.

That's the reason I'm here alone. Oli put up a good fight in attempt to come with me, but I told him I just needed to do it alone, and that I would call him once I found out and not make him wait until I drove home. He sighed, his hands squeezed my shoulders encouragingly, and he gave me a long kiss, wishing me luck without words. If I did find out I was pregnant, I wasn't going to be upset about it. Oli, on the other hand, probably doesn't see it the way I do. I didn't want to risk it.

Finally, after too long sitting on the crackly paper, there were two quick raps on the door, before my doctor came in with a smile. The nurse had already done the tests, so I was just awaiting the answer now.

"Well, Ms. Ross. You're pregnant," he smiled softly, and I let out all the air I was holding in. Despite my earlier thoughts, I felt a ping of fear echo through my body. After I collected myself, I smiled small at the doctor.

"So whats next?"

Thirty Minutes Later

I was on my way home after the doctor helped me through all the steps. He set me up with a female doctor that was going to be with me until birth, and I was supposed to go to her for my prenatal check ups.

I hadn't called Oliver yet. Breaking this news to him was one of the hardest things for me, because I had no idea how he was going to react.

Part of me was still waiting for him to lose interest in me, and find someone knew. Even after all these years, I was waiting for it. This just seemed like a reason to do just that.

But the other, much more logical and prominent part of my conciousness realized that he was going to support me, whatever happened. If I was happy, he was going to be happy. Or at least he would try.

And still, I couldn't bring myself to reach into my bag, wrap my fingers around that cell phone, and call him. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white.

Too soon, I was home, sitting in the driveway. I tried to even my breathing, and it worked to a certain extent. There was no way I could calm down entirely, so I would have to work with him.

By the time I pulled the keys out of the ignition, Oliver was standing in the doorway, waiting for me. I had to stop for a moment to appreciate him. It was the first time in a long time that I just looked at him, without a reason.

He stood like he usually does, his ripped, trusty Vans planted a few inches apart on the threshold. He always stood so he was very slightly hunched, but still had better posture than a lot of people. I followed his legs up, which were shealthed in the usual pair of dark skinny jeans. I knew without having to see that they were hanging off his bum, like always. He wore a red Drop Dead basketball jersey, and as a result, his tattoos, now extensive, were nicely display. My heart squeeze painfully by the time I got to his face.

I took a deep breath, and met his eyes. His lips twitched slightly, holding back a smirk at my obvious ogling, but his eyes were anxious. He stayed where he was, allowing me the time to close the distance.

I had almost forgot the reason he was anxious, because all I wanted to do was touch him, so I could think more clearly. It was like my need to feel his hand in mine was outweighing everything else. It was all I could focus on.

I sighed, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my black zip up, before making my way over to him. The weather was getting colder, in mid-October. No sense staying outside.

It all happened pretty quickly, but it felt like forever. Only about a minute passed from the time I got out of the car, to the time when my fingers finally slipped between his.

My other hand gripped my keys in my pocket. I didn't want to give away my tension, so I smiled easily and spoke up.

"Hey," I said, and Oliver smiled now, leaning in to press his lips to mine. I welcomed him easily, letting him drink away my stress, until I was ready.

He broke away first, still clutching my hand. "Come on, love," he led me into the living room, shutting the front door after him. He sat on the couch, and I moved onto his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. I wanted the close contact, but I wanted to look at his face while I told him.

He kissed me again with both hands on either side of my face, before pulling away again, and waiting.

I sighed, fidgeting my hands between us and looking away from his eyes.

"Andy," he spoke calmly, and I met his eyes again, "whatever happens, I'll be here. Always." He must have sensed my discomfort, because he held my hands again, giving me the support I knew I would get from him.

"Well, looks like I won't be wearing these skinnies for the next nine months or so," I chuckled softly, watching his face. There wasn't much of a change. The anxiety grew more pronounced in his eyes, but his face stretched into a beautiful smile, shocking me momentarily.

His arms wound around my back and he leaned forward, pulling me closer in the same movement, until there was no space between us. He held me there for a long moment, and I gripped him as well, clinging to him like a life preserver.

Oliver loosened his hold just enough so I could bend down and press my lips to his. With this kiss, he consumed the rest of the doubt and worry I had about the coming months, leaving me heated and unbelievably grateful that I'd been blessed with such a boyfriend.

The next week was dreadful. And the following weeks were going to be much worse.

Oli decided we weren't going to tell the guys. Not yet. They were in the middle of recording their album, and he didn't want to distract them. Which was definitely understandable.

Mention of the record had me struggling for composure. Once they were finished, they had to go out and tour and promote, right? There was talk of an American-Canadian tour as well. Realistically, there was no way I was going to go with. I probably wouldn't have anyways, even if I weren't pregnant. Weeks upon weeks on a bus with five guys is bad enough when you're not overly hormonal.

On Halloween night, Oliver and I stayed in for the first time since we've been dating. We layed on the couch together and watched scary movies that were outstandingly more frightening to me, than they were to Oliver. Every time I would jump, I would feel Oli go rigid, surprised, and then his warm breath would rush across my neck as he laughed quietly. His hand was always gently resting on my slowly growing tummy. There wasn't even a bump yet, and he insisted on touching it.

It was sweet of him, I'll admit it. Of course, Oliver has only been sweet and gentle and loving since the day he found out.

As November rolled around, the weather grew bitter. I reached week four at the very beginning of November. I could tell winter was coming, because my skin was dry all the time, and it pissed me off. With Oliver's twentieth birthday coming quickly, I started to stress out more. He told me over and over that I've already given him everything he's ever wanted, and therefor he doesn't "do" the whole "gift thing" but I knew that was bullshit. I collaborated with his band mates, and they helped me set up a birthday show and after party. The show was going to be held in Matt N's basement, which was nothing new at all. The party was going to be at Curtis' house. Also nothing out of the ordinary.

They were familiar places, places where Oliver was comfortable, and in this high stress time, he needed comfort.

Whether he was willing to admit it or not was a whole different story.