Meg ran her hand over the smooth skin of her stomach. It was still flat. Thank God for that.

But she knew that it wouldn't remain this way for long. The thought made her chest clench unpleasantly.

Images of herself bloated up like a balloon swam through her head. Maybe people would notice her then, eh?

She collapsed backwards on her bed, still in a state of numb shock. She knew that the hysteria would hit her later, but as of now, she couldn't think straight.

Meg Williams was pregnant.

Pregnant.

She never thought that this kind of thing would happen to her. After all, she was one of those more naïve, innocent girls who blushed whenever someone made a slightly suggestive joke, covered her eyes when there was a sex scene in a PG-13 movie, and couldn't talk in front of an attractive guy to save her life. She was also one of those moral girls who gasped at the thought of underage drinking and the use of illegal substances.

It's funny how the world works…how someone as innocent and clueless as Meg Williams can find herself pregnant with the baby of none other than the "awesome" Gilbert Beilschmidt. All because of one measly mistake of letting alcohol enter her system.

Meg closed her eyes, taking deep breaths. She didn't know if she was panicking or not. It didn't really matter at this point. Panicking wouldn't solve anything.

She immediately thought of her options.

Alright…there was always the easy way out. Abortion.

Meg frowned. She never had a real stance on abortion. She never thought it was something that would concern her. The idea seemed to be a credible choice on her part. It would save her all the unwanted drama of having a kid at fifteen. Plus, if she was discreet enough, no one would have to know about it. Not even her brother.

But was she willing to abort a baby? Meg let out a breath and set the thought aside for now. When she came up with a definite viewpoint about the subject, she'd think about it again.

What else could she do? She could have the baby and put him or her up for adoption. It didn't seem too bad. She wouldn't be denying the poor kid of his or her life, and the baby would have parents that would sufficiently raise him or her better than she ever could. But…if she decided to have the kid, she would have to tell people that she was pregnant. Including her over-protective brother, her parents, and…and…maybe even Gilbert. The thought made her wince.

Then of course, she could always raise the kid herself with the help of her family. Of course, after watching all of those fucked up shows about teen pregnancy life, she knew it wouldn't be a walk in the park. First of all, she would have her future to worry about. It would most definitely go down the drain. Then, there was the constant needed care for the baby. And of course…whether or not the father would contribute to this whole thing or not.

Would Gilbert Beilschmidt be willing to father his own child? Even if the mother was a naïve, invisible nobody that he hadn't even said one word to?

Meg sat up, running her fingers through her long blonde hair. What the hell was she going to do?

For now, she just…wouldn't tell anyone. No one needed to know about this now, right? She would just keep a low profile, try and act normally, go to school, stay in the background, and avoid Gilbert Beilschmidt at all costs.

She wondered if he even remembered sleeping with her. He did leave first after all. Did he even pass her sleeping form a single glance before he left? Can he even place her name with a face?

Meg couldn't sit still anymore. She got up from her bed and walked to her mirror again, eyeing herself.

Same as always. Long torrents of thick blonde hair, wide violet-hued eyes, short and thin, pale….

Nothing stood out. She was just a boring Canadian chick.

In comparison to her brother, she was nothing. Alfred was that attractive American boy, with the perfect blonde hair, perfect dazzling smile, and amazing ability to charm anyone. No one would think that they were twins. Sure they had their similarities, but he was tall, muscular, and confident, while Meg was short, tiny, and shy. In fact, the two didn't even know they were related until about five years ago. Their father was Canadian, and their mother was American. After the two were born, their relationship fell apart and they divorced, resulting in their father taking custody of Meg and moving back to Canada, while their mother kept Alfred in America.

Two years ago, their father died from throat cancer, resulting in Meg moving to America to live with her mother, twin brother, and her mother's boyfriend.

Meg, however, still considered herself Canadian through and through. Despite the constant Canada jokes that are made in history class, she prides herself on her roots. Not that anyone cares really. Her whole high school is basically an international brothel. It seems that everyone comes from different countries.

There are those Italians, those Germans, those Japanese, those British, those Russians, those Nordics…just….it's crazy. Meg never understood why her public high school was made up of so many foreigners.

Meg turned her head away from the mirror to look outside her large curtained window. The sun was barely skimming the horizon. It would be another good hour before she would have to start getting ready for school.

The thought almost made her cry out in frustration. She would actually prefer to go to school right now, anything to keep her mind busy so that she wouldn't think about the rather large pickle she was in. The Canadian knew that if she were to turn the television on, she'd wake either her brother or her mother. Meg loved her sleep. It's a known fact. Even Alfred would realize that something was off about his sister if he found out that she was awake. And then he'd pester her to no end, and she would eventually tell him because she has little will power. It also doesn't help that she's a horrible liar.

Meg walked into her bathroom again and splashed her face with water. She avoided looking at herself in the mirror as she stripped and hopped in the shower. She figured that maybe a nice soak would help soothe her nerves. As she stepped under the water, she subconsciously ran her hands over her stomach once again; call her shallow, but she wanted to enjoy a flat torso for as long as she could. She gritted her teeth and let out another breath. Today was going to be a long day…but no matter…she would just have to…avoid conflict. Yeah, that's it. Just not look at anybody, not talk to anybody…it shouldn't be that hard. It's not like she ever talked to anybody anyways.

Meg bit back a groan of frustration as she stepped out of the shower and dried herself with a towel. She was barely starting her sophomore year! This shouldn't be happening! What did she ever do to deserve this? The Canadian realized that she was close to reaching panic point. This was hopeless! Even if she TOLD Gilbert, it's not like he'd give a flying two shits. The guy was a damn knockout who definitely had OTHER things on his mind….or other GIRLS (and guys) on his mind. She knew that if she even attempted to talk to him, he'd pass her by without a single glance. Second of all, he's a senior. Probably seventeen or eighteen. Sure, he's hooked up with the youngins before, but he would never take any of them seriously. Not only was Meg a youngin, but she was invisible. Double negative right there, eh?

Plus…there was that OTHER matter. A matter that Meg just realized. A matter that seemed to hit her in the face with a baseball bat.

Gilbert Beilschmidt's girlfriend.

The badass, scary-as-hell, but absolutely gorgeous Hungarian chick, Elizaveta Hedervary. Meg shuddered at the thought of the girl finding out that she was pregnant with her boyfriend's kid. Oh hell, Meg knew that no one would forget her then. Elizaveta would make sure of that.

Elizaveta wasn't afraid to hit or smack. She may be beautiful and feminine, but damn…she could be scary. Especially when she had a large baseball bat…or a frying pan. All the guys feared and lusted after her.

Plus…it was always Gilbert and Elizaveta.

The German and the Hungarian.

Such a hot, badass couple.

And Meg could see why.

The thought made her feel absolutely nauseous.

Oh Jesus Christ…this whole day was going to make her feel nauseous.

XX

The day had been manageable so far. Neither Alfred nor her mother suspected anything when Meg walked down for breakfast. Alfred simply ranted on and on about who knows what while Meg kept her head down low, scooping spoonful after spoonful of cereal into her mouth. She desperately wished that she could have pancakes with maple syrup…REAL maple syrup from back home…but alas, the world didn't work that way.

In the school bus, she sat in her usual corner, staring out the window aimlessly with her headphones on. She couldn't comprehend any of the songs she was listening to. The first few classes were all normal. She took notes, kept her head down, and avoided being acknowledged or seen. A few people ran into her; she tripped a few times; she dropped a few of her books. It was all normal. Nothing to worry about. Absolutely NOTHING at all.

Meg avoided the senior hallway as much as possible. She didn't even look in that direction, knowing that she'd probably see the "Bad Touch Trio" strutting around. There were a few times where Meg was absolutely sure she heard Gilbert's "kesesese," but she always just put her head down and started to head in the opposite direction.

It wasn't until lunch that something actually happened that caused Meg to lose her sense of calm.

Meg always ate lunch alone, outside, on the bleachers facing the track. There were usually a few students hanging around out there as well, but the Canadian never associated with them. However, as she bit into her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, she couldn't help but listen to the conversation being held by two gossiping freshman girls.

"…Oh my God…so…are they going to break up?"

"I don't know. But I hear that she's furious. Knowing that bitch, she's going to fucking smack him in the face with a hammer."

"No! But Gilbert is sooooo gorgeous! Why would anyone want to mess up that face?"

"Elizaveta would. Especially after this. Man, I feel sorry for the chick that he slept with….whoever she is…"

Meg choked on her sandwich. But both the freshman girls didn't even acknowledge her presence. Typical.

"…So she's pissed because she found out that he slept with someone at Francis's party?" one of the girls pressed on.

Meg felt herself getting paler and paler with each word being shared.

"Well duh! I would be too! That's just…not okay. That girl must be a total whore or something. I say Elizaveta has the right to kick her ass."

"Yeah, I agree…but not Gilbert's! His ass is too perfect! Wait…so no one knows who this girl is? The one he slept with?"

"Nope. Gilbert himself doesn't even know who she is. I heard him talking about it with Antonio…"

Wow. Creeper much? Meg wanted to throw up.

"So…no one knows at all? Not even a hint?"

"Well…people are saying that he started making out with some small blonde chick and then they both went into a room and never came out…but that's about it."

Meg felt like her throat was closing up. She immediately wrapped her sandwich back up in the plastic wrap and stuffed it into her lunch sack. She was definitely not hungry. She sat there, absolutely still, determined not to look at the two gossiping freshman girls.

"Well…small blonde girls at this school….that narrows it down a bit. Who's small and blonde?"

The Canadian had had enough. She shot up from her sitting position and quietly turned away, swiftly making her way back to the school. Meg's legs pumped weakly. Why did she feel so feeble? Her nausea increased with each pant, and the air hitting her face seemed to sting.

Wait…where was she going again? She stopped and huffed, fighting the urge to vomit.

Alright Meg, don't lose your head. No one knows it's you. They'll probably never guess it!

Yeah. But when you swell up like a balloon, they're going to get a hint.

There's always abortion!

…You know that you don't want to abort the kid.

Meg paused in shock and placed a hand over her flat stomach. For some unexplainable reason, she realized it. She didn't want abortion. She didn't want to kill the child growing inside her. Hell, even if it were that psychopathic Russian Ivan's kid, she wouldn't want to go to an abortion clinic. Suddenly, the thought of having her child sucked out of her body made her dry heave. She clutched her stomach with more force, as if defending herself. Since when did she have motherly instincts? Meg was confused and scared and shocked and…

She immediately started to run again, despite her nausea. She ran aimlessly, determined to just get her mind off of all this complicated shit. She knew that if she wasn't in motion, she'd think and think and think…

SMACK!

What the….

She stumbled backwards, her eyes squeezed shut, and her small body throbbing from the pain. The world felt like it was tilting…she was about to fall over….

Then, someone grabbed her arm with one hand, breaking her fall. She stumbled a bit more, but came to a halt, breathing heavily.

"Kesesese, you should watch where you're going, birdie."

Meg squeaked like a fucking rubber duck. Her eyes shot open and she wrenched her hand out of Gilbert's grip so violently that the force caused her to lose her balance again, resulting in her landing flat on her ass.

She inwardly groaned, feeling her cheeks flush violently as she dared herself to glance up at Gilbert Beilschmidt. Her breath caught in her throat. How could someone look so devious and evil, yet so damn sexy? It should be a sin! Meg's spine tingled as she immediately placed a hand over her stomach again.

Well, little embryo….or blastocyst… whatever the hell you are….here's your daddy.

Meg saw that he was accompanied by none other than Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, both standing at each side of his shoulders. The Canadian gulped, feeling like a cornered mouse as they all smirked down at her.

"Ohonhonhonhon, how adorable," the Frenchman said in a sultry voice as he eyed Meg. "I'm surprised that I haven't noticed this one before. Elle est mignonne."

Meg immediately scrambled to her feet, looking at the ground, unsure of whether to stay put, or turn around and book it. It didn't really matter. She felt pathetic either way. Her cheeks further reddened at Francis's words. How convenient, eh? Of all the times for the infamous Bad Touch Trio to finally notice her, it's right here and right now.

"Don't scare her, mi amigo!" Antonio said with a small laugh. "And stop creeping on the underclassman."

"You're one to talk, arschloch," Gilbert spouted with a smirk. "Have you asked Lovino if you could get into his pants, yet?"

Meg started to back away slowly, occasionally glancing up at the three seniors. She looked around at her surroundings, and with a sinking realization, she saw that there were people glancing over at them curiously. Maybe if she stayed absolutely still, she'd disappear.

"BEILSCHMIDT!"

The roaring voice made Meg jump up in fear. Her heart accelerated as she spun around to see who had emitted the demonic roar. To her horror, she saw none other than Elizaveta Hedervary marching forward, her thick brown hair swinging wildly around her face, making her look like some sort of blood-hungry goddess. Her green eyes were narrowed dangerously, fixed solely on Gilbert. Her fists were clenched and trembling, and each step she took seemed to resemble the oncoming apocalypse.

"Aww…fuck…." Gilbert muttered, his eyes widening in fear as Elizaveta came closer and closer.

Meg gave another squeak and ran off to the side, standing there hopelessly as she watched the terrifyingly beautiful girl stand in front of the German, her eyes flashing dangerously. Was it just her, or did the air seem to get colder?

Francis and Antonio both backed up a few steps.

"Um….well, Gilbert, mi amigo…we have things to do…"

"Oui….er…we wouldn't want to intrude…."

The two turned around and stalked off quickly, looking absolutely relieved to not be involved in this spectacle. Gilbert glared after the two, but it was short lived, for he turned back to face his girlfriend, looking as if he were about to be slaughtered.

Meg knew that she should probably leave as well, book it while she could, but she found herself stuck to the spot, her eyes glued to the scene before her.

"WHO THE FUCK IS IT?" she screamed, her voice bitter and loud…so loud that it made Meg's ears ache. The Canadian subconsciously rubbed her temples.

"I-I…uh…" Gilbert stuttered. Meg never thought that she'd see the "awesome" Gilbert Beilschmidt stutter out of fear.

"ANSWER ME, YOU KOCSOG! WHICH…MISERABLE BITCH...DID…YOU…SCREW?"

Everyone was staring now. Meg even swore she saw that Japanese guy Kiku Honda get out his camera.

"Fick! I don't remember! I was fucking drunk! It was dark, and I didn't know what I was doin—"

"It was DARK? IT WAS FUCKING DARK? THAT'S YOUR EXCUSE?" Elizaveta roared as she raised a hand, causing Gilbert to cower.

If Meg wasn't the culprit here, she would've found this highly entertaining.

She may even be stifling giggles along with the other students watching from the sidelines.

But alas, Meg was the culprit. She was the one who slept with Gilbert; she was the one who was pregnant. She was the "miserable bitch."

"Elizaveta, calm down! Mein Gott! It was a mistake, ja? It doesn't even matter!" he pleaded, still cowering, his eye on the Hungarian's hand, which was still dangerously raised.

Meg couldn't blame him. Though Elizaveta may not be that tall, she's heard stories about how violent she could be. Her hits must hurt like hell. The thought made Meg grow cold.

"If it doesn't FUCKING matter, who the hell is it?" The Hungarian girl persisted, stamping her foot in defiance. She inched closer and closer to Gilbert, her glare growing nastier and nastier. Gilbert shook his head back and forth.

"I TOLD you, mein liebe, I don't remember at all….I—"

But then he trailed off as his eyes fell on Meg. The Canadian inhaled sharply and froze, staring back at him. She watched in horror as realization dawned on the German's face. His lips were parted slightly and his red eyes seemed to stab at her.

Fuck…fuck fuck fuck. Meg bit her lip and dared herself to back up a few steps. She was going to be was going to throw up. And then she'd cry, and then Elizaveta would rip her innards out, and people would forget all about it the next morning because no one ever remembered Meg Williams.

He remembered.

Perfect timing, eh?

"You what?" Elizaveta demanded, still looking pissed as hell, but confused by her boyfriend's sudden pause.

Meg spun around and started to run. For once, she prayed that no one noticed.