The Bad Boy's Little Pumpkin

How We Got Here

Hey. You walked in at a crazy time in my life, so I'm going to cut right to the chase. For starters, I'm Pumpkin. Pumpkin Pye, to be exact. Yes, that's actually my real name. Nice to meet ya. Call me Kinzie if you want. It's what my friends do.

So I'm guessing you want to know how we ended up here: in the delivery room on Thanksgiving night with my legs being held by two nurses, my crotch on display for everyone to see; along with my mom and twin sister, Apple, only making it worse by filming the whole thing.

I was panting, cringing all over from the worst pain imaginable, and trying to shut up Damien Thrasher next to me, who got me into this whole mess. Yes, I know it takes two to tango—but he was the one who started being flirtatious with me.

Anyway, let's back up. And I mean way up. To two years ago, when I met Damien on the football field. We had your typical cliche highschool romance: the quarterback who fell in love with the cheerleader.

By "fell" I mean, he made somebody else get knocked to the ground. This senior named Kylie was picking on me freshman year by the bleachers. I've been short my whole life, under five feet to be exact. Fun size, vertically challenged, call it whatever you want. I was a target for bullies, and that's all that mattered.

Kylie and was calling me some dumb names, laughing and pointing because I ripped my shorts in the groin area while doing a split. I was shamefully trying to walk to the locker room while covering my exposed panties with my pom poms.

Damien, with his massive, tan biceps looking like they were going to tear right through the sleeves of his football jersey, ran over and pushed Kylie into a puddle of mud. He said he'd been admiring me from afar and asked for my name.

"Okay, believe it or not, it's Pumpkin," I said. "But I go by Kinzie sometimes."

"A big name for such a small lady. I like the name Pumpkin," he said, a breeze running through his long black hair. "I'm gonna call you Little Pumpkin, okay?"

I blushed. "Okay."

Kylie never bothered me again, and I lost my virginity to Damien the next week. He said I was his first, but it sure didn't seem like it, with how good he was!

Fast forward two and a half years to Valentine's Day of this year, where he took me for a ride on his new bike even though it was freezing, got me flowers, dinner, and then a little bit of fun afterwards. As we laid there naked in bed together, everything seemed perfect.

Then I missed my period. But I was super irregular anyways, so it didn't matter. Then I missed it again, and again, so I started to get worried and went to the doctor.

Apple liked to tease me about getting pregnant every time I missed my period, but fun fact: I had PCOS. Damien and I hadn't used protection in years or...ever. I was far from a Fertile Myrtle.

Or so I thought.

I felt like the room was spinning when the ultrasound tech smiled and told me,

"Congratulations, Pumpkin! You're sixteen weeks pregnant!"

Now we can really get to the meat and potatoes of this story.

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Well, what does everyone think of my new micro-novella so far? Hope you'll keep reading! I'm having a ton of fun writing this story.