Some hot oil from the pan in which I fry eggs splashes onto my wrist and I flinch. I'm cooking five eggs, two for George, two for Kian and one for me. It feels like I'm playing them both at the same time somehow, keeping them as fugitives in my home but not telling either one. Could make a good movie I suppose.

Some more oil pinches me so I back away a bit which helps me see out the kitchen door and through to the living area. Kian's still fast asleep on our fool of a sofa. I recon, if our sofa were a person, it would be a chubby old Scottish man (because of the tartan) who ironically speaking - hates intimacy. Maybe we could rip off the kilt fabric one day and cover it with new fabric. I'm sure it'd make a hell of a difference if you ignore the lumps and holes in the under coat.

Once I've finished buttering the toast, I take a plate first into my room where George looks completely un-conscious which I don't blame him for seeing as he's only had about 6 hours sleep so far – and peck a kiss on his cheek. "Morning" I whisper into his early morning smile. His eyes are still closed but he manages a small groan of "hello."

"I've got you breakfast." I say as quietly as possible and open the curtains slightly.

It's a lovely day, the first glimpse of summer I guess looking at a clear sky with a yellow sheen around the edges where the sun's just been. Everything feels good.

"What's the time?" George murmurs, eyes now squinting at the sunlight.

"Nine." I reply. Far too early for my usual wake up but I couldn't get back to sleep. My mind was harassing me and I could just hear Tillies voice in my head – you've got to tell him.

"How are you up so early?" he rolls onto his side and I see his body relax once he's found a different comfortable position.

I decide not to explain encase he worries about problems. So I just place his egg on the table near his face and give him another peck before leaving. He's surely too tired to chase me out of the room.

….

When I'm back in the living room, Kian's awake and restlessly struggling about on the sofa – no doubt he's aching all over. "I told you it'd be uncomfortable" I boast.

"I think the word uncomfortable was a bit over-rated." He moans with a grin.

I laugh and grab his plate from the kitchen.

"How did you know I like egg on toast?" he asks a bit too enthusiastically.

"I did technically live with you for two months of my life. I should know."

He takes the plate from my hand and we sit. "That is a good point. I'd be upset if you didn't."

We eat.

"So, what family are you staying with?" I ask.

He swallows a mouthful then replies. "My Uncle Peter, he only lives a half hour away. Got quite a big house too so he was more than happy to have me."

I fiddle with my egg. I'm not that hungry anymore. I feel… queasy.

"Can you… excuse me – for a moment?" I run, no waddle, I don't want to encourage sickness - to the bathroom. This morning's food fuels the beauty of my vom. Just brilliant.

But I suppose it's better than that weird acidic bile that sometimes comes up when you haven't eaten. That's the worst kind of sickness.

A hand melts into my back, it stays there – doesn't circle. At first I think its George, well I would because he's the only person recently who comforts me when I'm sick except for the odd day when he was gone and Ryan was there. But the Irish brogue gives it away "That's it, get it all out." He says.

I shake my head. "I don't want you to see this."

He laughs awkwardly. "It's a natural thing, no biggie."

I'm mid-way sighing when a raucous morning voice breaks through – "I can deal with this." George says. "She is my girlfriend anyway." I can tell he adds influence on "girlfriend" to tug on Kian's nerves. I'm the girl that got away and ran into George's arms – it's something that could hurt him.

Kians hand is swiftly removed from my back. I only expect him to leave the bathroom with an apology but he doesn't – he stands up from his once crouched position and stays put. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he snaps.

I definitely didn't expect that.

"I thought you would've had the sex talk by now." George replies sternly.

"George!" I break in irately. "We did not have sex last night."

He looks at me suspiciously, eyebrows furrowed whereas Kian just glares at George, his features strict.

"I mean, that he obviously doesn't understand that I have every right to sleep in the same bed as you." George replies with brag.

Kian ignores that remark and turns to face the distance between us. His voice is angry but sensitive at the same time. "Frankie – how can you just run back into his arms so easily? It's been what, two weeks?"

"Two weeks, what are you talking about?" I squint upwards at the bathroom light haloing his hair piercingly.

He goes to talk but I interrupt stubbornly –"Actually, I don't want to know. So can you both just get out, I can't be dealing with this."

Kian stares at me aghast but leaves when I don't return eye contact. George on the other hand scowls open-mouthed at me. "What the fuck have I done?"

I shake my head, "I've just been sick and I would appreciate if you two had your little spat outside."

I'm not going to tell him that he's actually pissed me off by being his usual stubborn self. Well he's not actually stubborn-natured but when it comes to me and protectiveness, he's a stubborn ass. He leaves anyhow.

….

I've cleaned up, the sink stained with mouthwash. I stare at myself in the mirror, ashamed at what I see. My eyes are blotchy and red from the silent crying I did when I had privacy and my hair is almost at dreadlock stage, a thin layer of sweat lines my forehead.

I don't know why I started crying to be honest. My mind screams hormones. But I still refuse the pregnancy until I've taken a test. Maybe it's because I feel guilty for leading Kian on during x-factor and then disposing of him like no other. Or maybe it's because I invited him into my home where my boyfriend who borderline hates him is staying also.

It's just one of those female things I guess. I make myself leave the bathroom.

I hear the front door slam shut and see a wing of Tillies hair then a faint car exhaust. She must be with Ryan because she can't drive. We must've woken them up with the fighting.

Then I expect to hear shouts and stomps or at least a bit of angry chatter but no, it's silent which is even more irritating. When I come into the living room, they're both sitting at the dining table, George has his head in his hands – he looks exhausted and Kian just sits, staring out the window. They both look to me when I come in. They look hurt.

George stands up and strolls towards me. He looks so effortlessly handsome today with his knee length baggy pants, no shirt and scraggly morning hair. He takes my hand and kisses my cheek, the part under my ear where I usually kiss him – then leaves the room.

My instinct is to sit opposite Kian, so I do.

"I'm so sorry Frankie" he says before I even sit down, still looking out the window at an almost mid-day sun. "I shouldn't have come but I didn't know."

I wait for him to say more but he doesn't. "Kian, can you expand that please because I still have no idea what you're talking about."

He sighs and looks at me. "I read a magazine a few weeks ago which said that George had broken up with you because he wanted a more celebrity associated girlfriend."

I gasp at his stupidity.

"And me being the idiot I am, believed it."

I smile a little. Seeing George this morning must've been a big shock then. "Seriously Kian, how could you believe it straight away? You could've at least called me to make sure."

He shrugs. "I suppose, but we hadn't spoken in a while. You realise how weird it would be if I only called you to understand if you and your boyfriend had broken up - like nothing else mattered."

It takes me a while but I nod. He has a point. "Still, it would've been nice for you to second it with me."

"Yeah but to think that I turn up here a week later. I wouldn't want you to think that I'm threatened by any boy you're related with - or that I'll only talk to you when they're gone, if you know what I mean."

I nod again but a thought flashes to mind. What if Kian only came here because he knew I was single and thought he could get with me? I don't like the thought of being used like that, especially with Kian, someone I trust so well.

I take a while to digest it.

"Anyway are you ok? You might want to go back to bed encase you're sick again." He says.

I ignore it, there's no point lying to him but there's also no point bringing up my possible pregnancy. "Kian, can you be honest with me." The room gets greyer – clouds have fogged over the once bright sky.

"Yeah, yes." He replies.

"Did you only – did you only come here because you thought you had, a chance with me?"

His voice crackles and a false sound comes out. Then he pauses. "No. No of course not, I was worried about you if anything."

I don't believe him. I shake my head.

"Frankie…"

"I think you should go." My voice is almost a whisper.

"No" he demands. "No, I'm not lying to you."

"You should go." I shout this time. "Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean you can ignore me and use me." And again louder.

He tries to take my hand but I shove it away and stand up violently, knocking my chair to the floor with aggression. George runs in red faced. "What's going on?" he demands.

"Kian was just leaving." I murmur.

If George wasn't here – I'm sure he would disagree but this time he leaves, taking his half packed bag with him, shoving floor-scattered clothes into it promptly. I flinch when the front door shuts.

"What was that all about?" George demands. I'd think he was still angry with me from this morning if his eyes weren't full of compassion. The anger must be for Kian.

I stand up and wrap my arms around his neck, hiding my head in his chest, he moves my hair out of my face softly - "nothing to worry about" I utter.

"You can tell me" he talks into my forehead quietly.

"Really, it's no big deal. We just had a disagreement." I sigh. "I'll call him tomorrow." As much as I want to discuss the decorum of Kians behaviour with someone – George definitely isn't the person.

He moves his hands from my lower back to my shoulders and lightly pushes me away so he can see me. "Frankie, you knocked a blooming chair over – something obviously upset you."

Stubborn George is coming out to play. "Can we let it go please." I place the back of my hand on his cheek to settle his nerve. It doesn't work, he shakes it off.

"Tell me Frankie." He looks at me sternly like a tenacious father would, not a boyfriend. "Or would you rather I chased down Kian and asked him instead."

"There's really no stopping you is there?" I rage.

"The more you refuse to tell me, the more concerned I become so there's obviously something you don't want to say." I'm about to reply with something sarcastic like yeah so you should leave it. But he talks up again."I'm your boyfriend, I thought you trusted me?"

I do trust you George – is what I should say. But I can't bring myself to because then I would have no other option but to tell him. I turn to leave instead. He grabs my wrist, it hurts a little.

"What on earth are you doing?" I moan.

"I'm not going to ask again." His stare scares me. He looks broken, detached from his actual body. Maybe I should just admit it, but I'm worried what he'll do to Kian.

I keep my stare on his. "Fine" I just realise I'd been holding my breath, I pant quickly. "But promise me you won't do anything stupid."

He lets go of my wrist and stands with his hands in a shrug. "You never told me if you trusted me, but you should."

I nod. I do trust you. "Ok, so, you know how Kian thought we had broken up?" I ask.

He nods yes.

"Well, we were talking and I just had a realisation of – well I thought that maybe, he only came to see me, so that he could try it on with me."

George's hands turn into fists, then release to normal again.

"He denied it but I don't know. It hurt me because he hadn't visited since Xfactor but then out of nowhere he came over and I felt like it was because of us."

George doesn't reply, he looks past my shoulder and his brows crease inwards. "That little bastard!"

My insides deflate. I told him not to be stupid about this. "George, it's not a big deal. I was angry then but I'm fine now." I step towards him. "Please just, leave it."

"Why are you defending him?!" He asks furiously.

"Because it's not a big deal!" I yell.

He places a hand to his forehead. "This guy is trying to use you! He only visited so he could get it on with you!"

"It's not like that! He was probably telling the truth. I just had a suspicion, so there's no telling if it's true or not."

"I don't care. It's obvious he's had a thing for you for a while now and I know how a man's mind works." He turns away from me. I think he's about to leave. "It's disgusting!"

"You are outrageous!" I demand. "You don't know how his mind works."

George turns around, shock painted on his face. "If I didn't know you any better, I'd say that you fancied him. And you know what? I'm starting to believe it."

The words come out of my mouth before I can anticipate them. "That's funny considering I'm carrying your baby!"

Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit shit shithhithit.

I'm afraid to look at him. But I do.

His mouth is open again – his eyes look murky, face frowning. He's pouting like a fish, about to say something but then nothing comes out. This happens for a while.

"You" he pauses. "You're wha-at." There's a gurgling in his throat which sounds like a sore throat symptom. "What?"

My head pounds, I feel tears forming under my lids and my hands are unbelievable clammy. "I don't know." I say uneasily.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he barks then collapses into the chair I was sitting in before. His face is pale. "You're either pregnant or you're not!"

I didn't mean to admit it, but his reaction unsettles me. It angers me. "I haven't taken a test but the symptoms are all there!"

He gasps with no sound. "Well why the fuck haven't you taken a test?!"

"Don't start blaming this on me! It's a two person job and it's your fault for pouncing on me in the shower without a fucking condom!"

He mutters fuck under his breathe. "Couldn't you have taken the morning after pill?"

"Probably" I shrug angrily. "But it wasn't the first thing that came to mind."

I join him at the table. He has his head in his hands again. "How long have you known?"

"About a week. Well the sickness started the morning after so I considered it but when the sickness came back – I felt more certain." He breathes out heavily through his nose. "And my period hasn't come yet, I've been due for a while."

Beads of sweat tickle his forehead.

"It's been a whole week Frankie! Why didn't you tell me?" he's angry again.

"Well you've been away for four days of them and then Kian came. It's – there's never been a good opportunity. I'm sorry."

"I can't believe it. You find an opportunity Frankie. It's not that hard!"

I grit my teeth, he runs a hand through his hair – the sun reflects it gold.

"Oh you think so?!" I scream. "It's that bloody easy?"

He shakes his head, getting up from his chair. It yells against the floor. I have an urge to trip him on his way up but hug him at the same time.

I don't question where he's going – I know. The door slams in my face for the third time today, an eerie breeze follows through.

There goes the father of my child again, and I'm pretty sure he's not coming back this time.