Who Took My V-Card Novel – Forget Last Night Amya McKee was hammered at prom. The fact that she was still holding onto her V-card before graduation irritated her. Perhaps she should just pick some random guy… Her eyes flicked over to the boys from the baseball team. “Ugh, no way,” she thought, scrunching her nose. “They’re total babies. And they’d probably roast me for it anyway. “But it feels so hot…” She staggered to her feet, only to bump into a man. “You’re cute,” she slurred, wrapping her fair arms around his neck. Then she leaned in and kissed his thin lips, like she was silently asking for help.
She exuded youthful vitality, like a fruit that had just ripened, and her movements were so raw. The man pressed his lips tightly. She wasn’t his type, and he was supposed to be totally unfazed. He was only here to find someone. But even though his brain said nope, his body heated up at her seduction. So he took her away. The next morning. As sunlight shone into the VIP presidential suite of a luxury hotel, the man opened his eyes, only to find the bed empty. A note on the pillow was glaring. “Sorry for bothering you last night. It was just a mistake—let’s be adults and forget it. I really am sorry.
Goodbye.” His eyes were instantly filled with rage as he made a call and said sternly, “Octavio, pull out Diamond Grand Hotel’s…” But then his gaze caught on the red stain on the sheets, and he paused. After a few seconds, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, “Forget it.” He presumed she was just some young girl blowing off steam, and he might as well, like she said, forget it. *** A month slipped by. Amya shuffled weakly into the OB-GYN department, clutching the hem of her shirt.
After a series of complex tests, it was finally time for her follow-up. The doctor glanced over the lab results, then looked up at Amya. Amya had fair skin, delicate features, and big, watery eyes. She was thin and neatly dressed, but her clothes were obviously worn out. Right now, her eyes were filled with uneasiness. The doctor could tell she was still a student. She looked at Amya with worried eyes and said, “Sweetheart, you’re pregnant. “Where are your parents? They need to come in for this.” “Am I … really pregnant?” Amya asked, her voice barely audible. “See? The embryo’s developing normally.
There’s even a heartbeat already,” the doctor said, pointing at the ultrasound report. “Thanks.” Amya grabbed the sheet and ran out of the hospital, her face pale. She ran all the way onto the street, feeling more terrified than ever. She thought, “What am I gonna do? If Dad and Susan find out, they’re gonna kill me! “Should I get an abortion? But I heard that cost like two grand, and all I have is 50 bucks. Plus… isn’t that supposed to hurt like hell?” Tears blurred her vision, and she felt completely trapped. Just then, her phone rang, snapping her back to reality.
It was Susan Pratt, her stepmother. “Amya, where are you? Get home. Now.” When Amya was five, her mom died of illness. The next year, her dad, Ashton McKee, married their neighbor Susan, a high school teacher. As an Uber driver, he needed someone to take care of little Amya during his absence. Susan had always been strict and serious, especially with Amya. But she had also ensured Amya was well taken care of, and that made her a qualified stepmother.
Amya was uneasy along the way coming back home by bus, wondering if they had known about her pregnancy. Entering the door, she saw Ashton, Susan, and her stepsister Gianna McKee sitting on the couch. “Amya, SAT scores are out. You barely scraped community college level! What the hell?” Susan reprimanded upon seeing Amya. “What?” Amya was shocked. Her grades had always been solid. She’d been sure she’d make it into a decent state university. And she was pretty confident after taking the SAT. “It’s not a big deal,” Ashton mumbled. “She can retake it the next year.” “What? Are you for real? How much will that cost? Besides, she’s gonna get up early every morning for class for another year.
Who’s gonna make breakfast for her? I’m beat enough already, okay?” Susan snapped at once. Ashton muttered, “Then… a community college it is.” “And you!” Susan turned to Gianna. “Don’t get too full of yourself just ’cause you got into state university. I have high hopes for you.” Gianna remained silent. Susan called all the shots at home, and no one dared to contradict her. “Enough said. It’s your life. Make decisions for yourselves.” Susan leaned back against the couch, looking irritated. Ashton scurried off to the kitchen to cook, and Amya and Gianna went back to their bedroom. They were the same age, but not