My name is Brooke Slater; seventeen. I had just graduated high school, and was at a party to celebrate our freedom before moving on to college. That was where he approached me; the most handsome boy I had ever seen. His name was Kale Celeste, a transfer student from who knows where. No one really asked, and he never really said. He was a charming, soft spoken young man who seemed to carry a shy shield, keeping all of the girls at a distance. That didn't stop the girls from trying to get to know him more; he was the school's biggest heartthrob, and the biggest mystery.
"I'd try a cheesy pick up line, but you've likely heard them all." Softly, he said.
I couldn't help but giggle. "That's an interesting way to open a conversation."
Kale smiled. "Did it break the ice?"
I smiled back and nodded before he offered his hand, motioning to the dance floor. There, we became the envy of the party by dancing the night away.
I honestly do not remember what we talked about, but I do remember it was raining that night, and that my car decided not to start. I had no umbrella and no coat. Kale offered me a ride home, which I accepted. Why he offered so freely to help me, a lonely girl in the rain, I may never know; but it was better than walking.
Was it love at first sight? I don't know. What I do know is that one thing led to another, and we ended up making love in the back seat of his car, somewhere between the party and my house.
I woke up lying in my own bed, with no memory of how I had gotten there. In my hand was a note from Kale:
I am as of Adam and you are as of Eve.
We walked in the garden of Eden and planted a seed.
Please don't try to find me, our memories will keep us close.
Fate will bring us together again someday, my delicate rose.
It wasn't much of a poem, but I got the idea: Don't call me; I'll call you.
I sighed, looking up from my diary; then looked down at my abdomen, curious and worried. I started having morning sickness only four days after that night.
"It couldn't have been him, not enough time had passed." Tearing up, I muttered. "Still, he was my first time... "
I was confused, frightened; I had no idea what to do. I had never told anyone of that night.
Wincing, I considered my options.
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