And We All Grow Up

by chase the rain

As Bella juggles her final year of high school, taking care of her brother and avoiding her dad's girlfriend, 21 yo Edward steps into her life, a child in tow and no idea how to raise him. A story about change, about first love, about self-discovery and growing up. Short chapters and a few minor changes... ExB/AH/AU/Rated T until further notice.

2. Chapter 2

BPOV

2

"I think I'm pregnant."

I look at Rose and she stares back at me solemnly.

"You slept with him once," I say and fill out the equations on the worksheet.

"Not so loud!" she hisses, and then, "Twice, actually."

I glare at her a little, stung. She tells me everything. I tell her most things. Things she needs to know.

"Chill. I barely remember it. Only the waking-up-in-the-morning part."

"Does James know?"

She's gone quiet. I stare at her. Raise my eyebrow. She's not looking at me. Suddenly, the back of Mike Newton's head seems to hold all the answers to life's questions.

"Rose," I say, gently, because it's the only thing that'll work with her. "Does James know?"

When she looks at me again, her eyes are glassy. She shakes her head.

"He doesn't know?"

"No…" she looks away again. "I don't think it's –"

"Oh Rose."

The bell screams and I pack my things away. Neatly because I'm still trying to grasp what she's told me. We are silent as we leave the classroom and step out into the torrent of teenagers. We follow the crowd on their way to the cafeteria. I pull Rose into the girl's room and check to make sure it's empty. Lock the door behind us. She sits on a toilet and bawls. I unroll toilet paper and soak it in warm water before wiping it across her face. I don't say anything and neither does she until the tears have stopped and she's left with hiccups.

"It was a mistake, Bella. I've been lonely. The parents are in New York, or Paris, or London and I went to a party. James didn't come. He was at home, studying he said. I had too much to drink and Royce… he kept staring at me, and James never looks at me like that, all intense and –"

I watch her until she realises I'm not saying anything. "I thought you said it was a mistake."

"It is, it is!" she says hurriedly, her face purple and red. "I just…I'm confused!"

Her face, though discoloured, remains pretty. Not a single blonde hair is out of place and there isn't a crease in her crisp white Oxford. Her black Mary-Jane's are shiny. She is the very picture of golden schoolgirl. But her eyes burn with sadness and her tie is fastened too tightly and there could be a brand-new human growing inside her.

We leave when a gaggle of girls filter in, their giggles echoing off the walls, hallow and shrill.