A very long Author's Note: First off, this chapter is basically a 'start off' to start explaining what happened. Secondly, this chapter is fairly short. Most of my chapters will be this length, but there will be a lot of them. Okay, maybe they will be longer. This is more like a prologue. To a prologue. Thirdly--wait, that's all I've got. Never mind! And...end author's note.

~Parker~

 God. Why won’t she leave me alone? Her blonde hair is swinging along beside her like it’s some sort of crown and I can see that weird pointy stick she always has around with her poking out of her bag through a frayed hole. Yeah, I made love to her. Why can’t she see that’s all I wanted to do? 

She comes over to me and I can see tears coming out of her eyes. We are not getting back together, Buffy. I can visibly see her swallowing like she’s about to tell me something important. Well, maybe she should. Like why she carries that pointy stick around with her.

Oh yeah, I forgot, she probably doesn’t want to get back together with me. She has that weird boyfriend of hers, Riley, the teacher’s pet, and is pretty happy with him. So I’ve narrowed down the reasons that she might be here. Pointy stick explanation, coming right up. Maybe in LA, there was a ton of danger and mobsters, and she had to stop it. Yeah, right. She’s tiny—didn’t make for anything too good. 

My pointless rambling is going nowhere and I can tell that she wants to say something but I’m all glassy-eyed and she wants to make sure I’m listening. “What?” I ask, trying not to sound too exasperated, but it’s hard when it’s really sunny outside and there is a girl that I am really trying to impress. 

“Parker,” Buffy says, her voice trembling, “you’re not going to like this.” 

God. Just spit it out, girl. How bad can it be? Pointy sticks and weird looking bottles of water can’t be that bad.

“Parker,” she continues, “I’m pregnant.” 

Okay, it can be pretty bad. I’ve made love to…what, fifty girls? And I’ve knocked up, now about one. I’m sure it wasn’t Buffy’s first time. Well, I’m not staying with her. I really am trying to catch the eye of her redhead friend…which isn’t very likely, now, if I ditch her… 

I can’t think of anything else to say, since I’m freaking out so damn badly, so I just force my mouth to move, but no words come out. Parker Abrams is freaking out. This just doesn’t happen. So all I can manage to say is a burst of words. 

“You’re WHA--?” 

Well, at least I managed to say something. But I can’t stay much longer…the guilt factor is undeniable. I start to turn, but somehow her arm snatches out and she catches me.

“Aren’t you going to say anything else?” Buffy asks in a hard voice. “Aren’t you going to stay with me? Or help me in some way?” 

But god, no I’m not, and the pain that I’m feeling right now is insane, but my answer won’t change. I really can’t handle it. “No,” I say finally, but my voice is all choked up with tears and everyone is staring at me and NO the pressure is just too fucking much, so I just run away and leave everyone speechless.

There’s a look in Buffy’s eyes that she has when she’s really upset, which believe me, I’ve seen way too often for my liking. It’s that way now, when I take a final glance at her, except hundredfold. I might not be able to stay with her, but I am sure as hell going to see that birth. Buffy Summers is really something, even if she already has a boyfriend and she’s pregnant and this is just like some perverted sitcom… 

My dorm seems empty although I know hundreds of people are milling around inside it. Jace, my roommate is never there, so I practically have the room to myself.  

And I’m Parker Abrams, master of all things playable, and I’ve knocked up a girl for the very first time. It’s too much to bear.

And even though I’m Parker Abrams, the hugest flirter of all time, I can’t stop myself from burying my face in my pillow and flat-out crying.

I can tell that it’s loud because the footsteps are stopping and I can just picture the concerned people who look at the room carefully to make sure it’s actually mine. God, I can’t believe I did this. Karma, I guess, for all the girls that I’ve dumped easily. Or maybe it was just one unlucky shot.