“I couldn’t do that to you, you had so much.”

“You should have told me, I could have done something.”

“I just couldn’t, you have to understand, I couldn’t do that to you, I loved you too much.”

“You loved me?”

“Yes, I did, and now, I..I don’t know, I’m so confused.” I turned away from him.

“I still love you, Alexis.”

“You do?...but with everything that happened.”

“It was a big mistake Lexi, we have to live up to it now.”

“We’re too young for this, we’re only 18.”

“I know,” he said putting his arm around me for the first time in 2 years, “But it was our mistake, now we have to face the consequences.”

I giggled, “You’re so cute!” I said, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I try, I now pronounce you Daisy, the princess of the flowers.”

I laughed, “You geek!” I said as I tickled his side.

“Hey!” he cried as he broke into a run across the park.

“Come back here!” I yelled, taking off after him. I caught up with him almost a mile later, in my backyard. Panting and sweating I caught him and tackled him to the ground.

“Eew Lexi, get off me, you’re all sweaty!” he whined.

“Oh yeah, and you’re not!” I climbed off him and grabbed his hand, “C’mon, let’s go get a drink.”

We walked inside, “Mom, we’re home, are you here?” There was a note on the table, “Lexi, I had to go out to dinner with dad and his boss. We’ll be home late tonight. Order a pizza. Love Mom.

I grabbed 2 bottles of water and handed one to him. “Have you finished that story you were writing yet?”

“No, not yet, but I wrote more, do you want to read it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s in my room, come on.” I grabbed his hand and we went upstairs. I remember everything about that day. I was wearing jeans and a red tee shirt, and he had on cords and a black shirt. We both had on Doc. Martins, and my hair was in a French braid. He sat on my bed and I got the story from my desk before sitting down next to him. He read the 2 new chapters, and then turned to me.

“Do you want me to help you with this?”

“Sure,” I said. I got up and got a pen. Maybe if I had sat on the bed, instead of his lap, things would be different. But you can’t take back what’s been done. As I was writing the line, he stared to kiss my neck. I dropped my pen and notebook and returned his kisses.

I remember waking up to a searing pain. It hurt so bad, but not as much as the pain of realizing what we had just done. We were so stupid, barely 16, and we had just made what could end up being the biggest mistake of our lives. He woke up soon after me and looked into my eyes.

“We didn’t,” he said, “we couldn’t have.”

But we did. My parents would be home soon, so we got dressed and I walked him to the door. I told him I’d call him the next day.

I never did. I regret it now, he deserved to hear from me, after what had happened. He called, but I never answered. I still have the tape from my answering machine, of him pleading for me to pick up. I was scared, I don’t know why I did it, I loved him, I really did. The next month my family moved to Oklahoma City. I never told him, not even when I found out I was pregnant. It was going to ruin my life, but I was not going to let a stupid mistake ruin his too. He had too much going for him, he didn’t need a pregnant girlfriend to hold him back. He came to Oklahoma City a few times, I wanted to see him so bad. I couldn’t though. He’d see me and know the truth.

Somehow he found me. On New Years 2001 he was standing on my doorstep. When I opened the door I was holding my daughter. I almost told him, but at the last minute I told him she was my sister. He came in and we talked for a few hours, then he left. He called me, but I couldn’t handle it. I filled yet another answering machine tape of his pleads. I felt like a horrible person, but I couldn’t help it. He came back to my doorstep later that week.

“But it was our mistake, and now we have to face the consequences.”

I nodded, and left the room to get my daughter, it was time for her to meet her daddy. I walked over to her crib. She looks so much like her father, blond hair and bright blue eyes. I picked her up and carried her into the family room. “Taylor,” I said, “this is your daughter, Daisy.”

“The princess of the flowers,” he whispered. I nodded, and for the first time in so long the warm, soft lips of Daisy’s father, Taylor Hanson, met mine. We both knew that this was the first day of the rest of our lives.