When we arrived in Los Angeles almost a month later for MTV’s Video Music Awards, I was glad to be getting a few days off. While the guys were going to be busy with rehearsals, interviews, and appearances leading up to the VMAs, Forever was basically getting a break. We were going to the show and had been invited to an after-party, but that was it. While the guys worked, we decided to take the opportunity to shop, relax on the beach, and sleep in. So much for the sleeping in.

On the first morning in LA, I awoke to the sound of Amelia slamming our bathroom door shut. She was throwing up....again. I rolled over and attempted to focus on the alarm clock beside my bed. 6:45. That meant that in Kentucky it was 3:45 AM. I groaned, poured myself out of bed, padded over to the bathroom door, and knocked. “Amelia? You need anything?” The only reply I got was a new onslaught of gagging. I sighed and walked over to the chair by the window. I pulled the sheer curtain through my fingers and stared out, mentally preparing myself to have a talk with my best friend as soon as she was able. This had been going on for over a week, and honestly, I was starting to doubt the earnestness of her vow to never drink again after the killer hangover she’d endured in Las Vegas. I figured that one of three things had to be going on. One, maybe she was really sick and needed to see a doctor. Two, she was drinking too much, and hiding it, which made it worse. Three, she was pregnant. Though I would never wish illness on anybody, I was really hoping for number one. Regardless, it seemed that she was going to require an intervention.

She finally emerged from the bathroom with a glass of water in her hand and fell back into her bed. After setting her glass on her nightstand, she moaned, pulled the white down comforter up to her chin, and closed her eyes. “Amy?” Her eyes shot back open. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She rolled over so that her back was facing me. “Can it wait until later? It’s still early and I feel like crap.”

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk about.” I got up and walked over to her bed, then nudged her over and climbed in with her. She sighed and rolled over, and I laid down to face her, pulling the covers up around us. “I’m worried about you, Amy. You’ve been really sick for a while now. Maybe you should see a doctor.”

She gulped and wet her dry lips. “I’m a little worried too, actually,” she whispered.

I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed hard. Now was the part where she was going to accuse me of judging her. “Have you been drinking?” I asked quietly.

Her face started to crumple. “No,” she croaked. “I haven’t had a drop since....” She hesitated and took in a breath. “Since Vegas.” Then the tears started to fall.

“Amy?” I put a hand on her shoulder. “What’s wrong?” She sniffled and buried her face in her hands, sobbing. “Amelia, talk to me!” She shook her head back and forth, her hands still covering her face. I scooted towards her and pulled her into a hug. “Sshh, Amy. You’re my best friend. I love you. If something’s wrong, you need to tell me so that I can help you,” I soothed. I rubbed my hand across her back as her shoulders finally stopped shaking and her frantic sobs slowed to occasional hiccups.


She pulled away from me and sat up, pulling her knees up to her chest and laying her cheek on one of them. I sat up facing her. “Please don’t hate me,” she whimpered.

“I could never hate you, Amelia,” I insisted.

Her face crumpled again. “You remember that stupid thing I said I did in Vegas?”

“Yeah.....” I placed both of my hands on her knees, prodding her on.

“It was Kevin.”

I shook my head back and forth rapidly in an attempt to clear it. Surely, I was hearing things. “I’m sorry.....what?”

“I...” She paused and took in a few shaky breaths. “I had sex with Kevin in Vegas.”

I jerked my hands away from her knees as if they’d suddenly turned into hot coals. “You did what?”

“You heard me, Em.”

“Yeah, I heard you, but what does that have to do with....” I gasped in sudden realization. “Are you...pregnant?”

She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headboard. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” I chastised. “Have you taken a test?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand, Amy. Didn’t you use a condom?”

She wiped at the the tears that were falling down her face again. “I honestly don’t remember.”

I sighed exasperatedly. “Are you late?” She nodded. “How late?”

“About two weeks.”

“Amy!” I shot up to my feet and planted my hands on my hips. “You’re telling me that you’re two weeks late and haven’t even taken a test?!”

“Yeah. I just can’t bring myself to do it, I guess. That makes it more real, you know?”

Actually, I didn’t know. I had no way to even fathom how Amelia was feeling at the moment. I paced between our beds for a while as her eyes followed me back and forth. “Does Kevin know?” I finally asked.

“No,” she muttered.

“You need to tell him.”

“I can’t.”

I threw my hands up in defeat. “I need to get out of here.” I changed into a pair of jeans and slipped on a pair of sandals, then grabbed my key and left.