It's about five months into my pregnancy. And you can tell that I'm pregnant. My stomach doesn't have the little baby-bump it did a few months ago. Last week, I had an ultrasound, and got a pretty good look at my baby. Right when I saw the little blurry picture up on the monitor, I instantly fell in love. I don't know whether it was the giant head connected to the minute body, with miniscule fingers and toes, or my Motherly Instinct acting up, but I knew right then that I was going to keep this child, and guard him with all my life. That's right. I also found out he's a boy, along with my sudden urge to protect him. Who knew an ultrasound could be so life-altering?

Today, I'm walking to my friend's house. He's one of the only ones I have left after I was raped. And yes, I said walking. I also said he. Here's why: 1. It's only a couple blocks. It's broad daylight. Once I'm out of sight from my parent's house, I'm in sight of his. 2. I'm not somewhat afraid of him because he's gay. Yeah. But not the whole 'Oh Em Gee, that's so FABULUUSSS!' gay. (No offense to gays. I don't think you talk like that.) in fact, unless you got him talking about the right topics, you'd never know. That's what I like about him. He's not more girly than I, the girl, am.(Again, no offense intended to gays.)

I walked up to his open front door and just walked right in after announcing my arrival. Chris' house was sort of like my home away from home.

"Yay, my lil' Prego's here!" Chris said as he walked over to me and crushed me into a hug. "I missed you so much. Why didn't you, oh, I don't know, call again after you told me?"

"Can't… Breathe… Baby dies… Your fault…" I choke out. He quickly releases me. "And I didn't call because I forgot. I guess I was so hung up on thinking about other stuff. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. But we definitely need to catch up. Twenty questions, lightning round: How many little Gaithelets are going to be running around your house within the next year? Are they boys or girls? Can I be the Godfather?" He said this with a straight face. We sat down in his room, each of us on a beanbag.

"Okay. I'm having one boy according to the ultrasound, yes you can be the Godfather, I wouldn't want anyone else, and what the heck is a [i]Gaithelet[/i]?"

"You know, little baby Gaithes. Gaithelets. Simple twisted logic," Chris says easily. "Last question: What does Him-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named look like, and no, not Voldy?"

"Do I have to?" His pointed look at me, filled with a lot more meaning than the average look, told me all I needed. "Fine. He's pretty tall, taller than you, dark brown hair, brown, almost black eyes, strong jawline." I said, knowing what was going to come. He sat there thinking for a moment.

"Hhm. Sounds pretty hot. Wouldn't mind going out with him for a little while…" He trailed off, looking like he was in another world.

"Woah, woah, woah, no thinking like that about my rapist. I don't care if your Gay, Bi, or Trans., I will not allow it," Freaky images started to build in my mind, and I tried to push them away.

"Hey, I can't help it! Besides, it's your fault for putting those hot, sexy images in my mind by describing him perfectly! Don't judge me, woman!" He exclaims.

"No…. The images… it, it burns! AUGH! Get them out, get them out, get them out!" I mock scream while clutching my temples between my hands.

"Ha ha. Very funny. You can stop now, you know. Oh, want something to drink? I'm thirsty," He says.

"ADD much? And Coke please."

All he does is look at me with raised eyebrows before he walks down to the kitchen. I take this time to get up from my half engulfed position in the beanbag and pace around his room. How the heck will I take care of a baby? I don't know how to take care of one! And before that, what will it feel like giving birth? I know it's going to hurt. But what if I get a C-Section? CAN I get a C-Section? Oh crap, what happens if I have a miss-carriage? Or if the baby has a disease, or disorder? Will I be able to finish school, go to college? Will I be able to take dance classes again? What happens when the few friends and family I have left hate me once the baby's born? What if my dad hates me for not having an abortion? Will he kick me out of the house? Disown me? Make me give him up for adoption? Try to kill my child?

Hundreds of 'What if's are piling in my head, crowding it until they're all I can think of. I don't even notice Chris walking back up the stairs and into his room.

"What's wrong?" He asks, setting the drinks down on a table and walking over to me with a worried expression on his face. A hand wipes off tears I didn't know were falling. Stupid tears. Forcing me to say what's wrong. I take a deep breath and sigh.

The only thing that comes out of my mouth is "... I'm scared."

Chris crushes me to his chest, being careful of my swollen stomach, and rocks me back and forth. I bury my face in his shoulder and the tears fall freely now, like they weren't before.

He walked backwards and sat down on his bed, pulling me onto his lap and resting his chin on my head. It was a little awkward sitting there, seeing that I can't bend as much because of the basketball that I call my stomach, but it was a comfortable awkward. There was nothing romantic about how he held me. It was just comfort from friend to friend. This was how our friendship worked. Silences were comfortable. If he'd been rejected by somebody he really liked because they were the same gender, then I'd pull him into a big hug and reassure him that it's alright, he'd find somebody for himself. If I'm going to have a baby at 15 and am contemplating all the worry's and What Ifs, then he'd hold me close and just sit there and comfort me.

It was a few minutes before he said anything. "Don't worry about anything. I can just tell you'll be a great mother. Right when that little baby pops out, your mind will suddenly fill with all the knowledge you need to take care of him. It'll be like a bottle of ice cold water after running a marathon. Your mind will be so fresh with the knowledge, and happy with the joy of a baby, you'll just skip out of the room, still in your hospital gown, and prance down the halls screaming 'I'M A FRIGGIN MOMMY!' to the whole world. Then you'll just female dog slap all the guards and doctors that try to stop you, and run off outside mooning innocent passerby, still screaming 'I'M A MOM! AND I KNOW HOW TO BE A MOM! BEAT THAT!' Then skip off into the way too cliché sunset."

At first, I thought he was actually going to be serious and say something that's sentimental, but you should never expect that from Chris. I know that now. He gets too awkward when he can't crack a joke or tease when he's speaking. But his whole speech was so funny, that I laughed right out loud. He described it so perfectly that I could see it clearly in my mind.

"Thanks for helping me get my mind off things."

"No problem. It's the contract we signed when we first became friends."

"What contract?"

"You know, the one I'd written in the dirt beside the sandbox on the playground, when we became friends. I'd pushed you down the slide and you fell flat on your face. But then you got up laughing and told me to do it again. We spent our whole recess pushing each other down a slide and face planting in the dirt." He explained.

I smiled at the memory. "Oh yeah. I have no idea how I found my getting hurt funny. But it was. It was extremely funny then."

"Still is now…" I hear him mumble. I just glare at him, which makes him crack up. I elbow him where the sun don't shine. He pushes me off him so he can bend over with his arms protecting his little guys from any other attacks. "What was that for…?" He says in a sort of falsetto that makes me laugh even more.

"I'm proving that it's funny when you get hurt also," I say between my snorts. I know, I'm so ladylike.

"Oh, so you want to play like that, huh? Your being pregnant will not get you out of this," He says as he suddenly tackles me and starts tickling me.

"GET OFF ME!" I yell between laughs. It's freakishly hard to get away from him, and next to impossible because I'm off-balance with being pregnant. "Get…" laugh. "Off… Me…" guffaw. "..n-n-now… "Cue lack of breathing because off laughing too hard here.

"I'm not on you," is his calm reply. He's stopped tickling me long enough for me to realize that he's not. He's just sitting off to the left side of me, smirking at my confused face. I just snort and hobble back up onto my feet and get my Coke that had been forgotten, and walk back over to a beanbag chair. And that's how we spend the rest of the day, sitting around, talking about random stuff, and just living the life I'd lost a few months ago.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Time skip~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's about two O'clock in the afternoon, andI'm walking down the stairs from my room when I feel an… odd sensation. I look down. My first thought: "Ew, how the heck did I wet my pants?" My second thought: "HOLY CRAP, SOMEBODY KILL ME NOW BUT SAVE THE BABY AND STOP THIS PAIN RIGHT NOW! "I'm bent over on my hands and knees with a severe pain coming from my abdomen. Of course, both my parents have to be away right now when I'm about to have a baby. I crawl over to the phone and call the first number that comes to mind.

"Ya." Chris answers with a bored tone.

"Chris, you better get over here right now, my water just broke, and my flippin' parents aren't here to drive me!" I didn't mean to yell at him. Stupid hormones.

"Oh, oh! Little Gaithelet's here! I'MMA COMING! DON'T YOU A WORRY, LITTLE MISS, I BE A GOOD PREGO TRANSPORTER, AND I'LL GIT YA TO THE BIRTH-Y PLACE BEFORE YOU CAN SAY 'I'm a mommy!'" Chris yells into the phone. I can't help but laugh at that, before a wave of spasms hit me.

"Let's hope that's true. But, please-" I stop and cry out in pain. "-get here soon. Thank you." Then hang up the phone. It's about a minute before I hear Chris' car in the driveway and him running up the steps.

"Hey, where are you?" He calls out.

"Down here," I say. He looks down then rushes over to me.

"Whoah. Okay, I have towels in the car, so don't worry. Can you walk? Wait, of course you can't. I'm just going to pick you up. Do not slap me if any hands appear in the wrong places." I can only grunt when he picks me up, bridal style." Please keep all hands, arms, legs, babies, umbilical cords, and extra bodies in the ride at all times. Thank you for riding the Deliverer. Please come again." He mumbles under his breath as we're going out to his car. He gently sits me down in the backseat where he'd lain out old towels, and shuts the door. He gets into the driver's seat and backs out of the driveway, speeding down the street. In no time, he's pulling up into the hospital parking lot and carrying me to the lobby.

"Pregnant girl about to give birth any minute, coming through!" He yells. A wheelchair is soon produced, which he sets me down in. I'm wheeled down to a room, where they set me up on a hospital bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Much shorter Time Skip~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At 7:34 P.M on May 15, my beautiful son is born. I sighed in relief when I heard his little screams. He's carefully handed into my arms, and I can just feel the biggest grin ever slowly creeping up on my face. "Shh, shh. Hey. It's mommy. I'm mommy. Mommy's here, Mommy's here.." I gently coo, looking down at his little face. He looks just like Jay, as much as I hate to admit it. Big deep brown eyes blinked up at me, with little tufts of almost black hair frame his small face.

Chris nudges me slightly, gesturing to the bundle of joy in my arms. "Are you going to name him, or will we be forever calling him 'Little Gaithelet'?"

"Shut up. I know a name. Welcome to your new life, Levi Benjamin Gaithe. It may not be perfect, but I'm going to make it my job to make it the best it can be."

I have no idea why I named him that. But even though he doesn't have a legitimate father, his Biological one should be able to have some part of him, even If they'll never meet each other. As Levi's mother, I'm going to make sure that he's never going to have to see meet him . Ever.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I don't think I've mentioned this before, so I'm going to say it now.

's 15, and Chris is 16 right now.

2. It's about January. I never said it, but she was raped in August.

DFTBA!