[Disclaimer] Stephenie Meyer owns Twilight. I own Zoe and in my mind she looks exactly like Kristen Stewart with some nerdy glasses on.
[A/N]
First, I want to thank those of you, who read my stories. It means more to me than I can ever tell you.
I felt like the last update ended on a pretty mean cliffhanger and I just couldn't leave it there. I will probably add more after this, but I'm not sure yet. It depends on a lot of things…
**Zoe-Part2**
„I don't know his fucking name." I whisper attempting to hold back new tears by taking a deep breathe. "Can't you just stop asking about that?"
Mom sighs. Her face looks as she's going to explode any minute. Her lips are pressed together. She's trying to stay calm, but it's difficult for her. Hell, it's difficult for me. It has been a week since I found out I'm pregnant. A week I have mostly spend crying in my room. Now, my annoying family is stuffed into Dad's living room. Mom thinks that Dad and Aunt Rose will manage to get me talking about the baby's father. God, I wished they would all mind their own business.
"I just don't understand how this could happen. It's not how you are. We've told you about being safe."
Yes! Yes, I fucking remember that awkward conversation with my mothers. Two dykes trying to explain to me about using condoms. Condoms don't work if you don't use them every goddamn time. Better to be safe than sorry, now I'm grasping the true meaning of these words. Yet, it doesn't change what I have done. What Nessie and I have done together. With trembling hands I grab the ultrasound picture from the desk. If I promise to be safe for the rest of my life, can I please be not pregnant then?
"I'm sorry,"
"So, are we, honey," Momma states. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. "But now, we need to decide what we're going to do."
"Do you want to keep it?" Dad asks. He lifts his glass to his mouth and sips on his drink.
"Of course, she's keeping it. What kind of question is this supposed to be?" My aunt's voice comes out a bit too shrill. I would like to know if Aunt Rose would still cheer for me keeping the baby if she knew it's going to make her a grandmother.
"I don't know what I want." I croak, swallowing back a lump in my throat. "I just want all of you to leave me alone. My head is hurting."
"This conversation is not over yet, but it's getting too late anyway. We need to pick up Hope from Jasmine's place."
I cross my arms in front of my chest. "Can I stay here tonight?"
"Of course you can. The guestroom is a bit crowded with stuff, because—"
"Because you can't manage to throw anything away," Seth interrupts him. "Zoe, if you want to stay here it's okay."
"She can go home with us."
"If I do that, you and Momma are going to continue questioning me. I don't know who the father is. I don't know whether I want to keep it. I don't fucking know anything."
A loud sob leaves my throat and because I don't hate anything more than weeping in front of others, I storm up the stairs, slamming the door of Dad's guest room behind me.
I sink down on the bed and cry. At least no one follows me up here. I don't want to see anyone. My cell starts beeping and I pull it out from the back pocket of my jeans. The text is from Nessie.
Got a tattoo today. Wanna see it? N
He should get the words – only use with a condom – all over his dick. Where in heaven's name does he have the money to get a tattoo anyway?
Yep. I type back and lean back against a box next to the bed. The room looks as if Dad and Seth just moved in here a week ago. It's stuffed with boxes and old Christmas decorations.
A moment later, my phone beeps again and when my eyes visualize the picture of Nessie's left bicep, warmth fills my heart.
Life is beautiful is written across his skin in black ink. U do know what this means. Right?
I wipe my nose on a crumpled tissue I pull out before I dial his number.
"Hi Nessie,"
"Hi Babe," he greets me happily. Jeez, when his mother tells him I got knocked up, he's going to freak. Would it be better to tell him myself? Damn it, why did this have to happen to me of all people?
"Do you like the tattoo?"
"Hmm, it's okay."
"Okay? I've endured two hours of excruciating pain for you. Life is beautiful. You know that life stands for you, don't you?"
I don't answer him. Instead I sniff into the receiver.
"Shit, are you crying now? I thought you'd like this surprise."
"Yes…no. Can we talk another time? I'm not feeling well."
"What's wrong with you? Are you still sick?"
"No," I sob. "It's nothing."
"Bull shit. Just tell me what's bothering you. Or is it some girl crap?"
"No,"
"Great, than you can tell me."
I take a deep breath before I speak up again. "I'm pregnant."
The other end of the line stays silent. He doesn't say anything for a full minute, maybe longer.
"Preg-nant?" he stutters. "Like having a baby pregnant?"
"How many kinds of pregnant do you know?"
"Crap! Are you sure? What are we going to do now?"
"We aren't doing anything. Nobody knows about us. I'm not going to tell anyone it's from you."
"Is this supposed to make me feel better?"
"I don't care! I'm seventeen and pregnant. Only idiots get pregnant at seventeen."
With that I hang up and turn off my cell. My entire body is trembling. I'm angry and sad at the same time, more of the first though. My fist connects with the box, making its content fall out all over the floor.
When I stand up to stuff everything back inside, a small notebook with yellowed pages falls into my hands. I love old stuff. Curious, I open the dusty thing up and start reading through the scrawly lines that are written inside of it.
The baby is starting to move. I can feel it kicking around in me. How much longer will I be able to keep this hidden from Vlad? He's going to be so angry at me. Livia was right. I should have taken care of things as long as it was still possible. But how can I not have this child? It's the only part of C. I'm ever going to have. He's gone now, vanished as if he'd never truly been here.
I love him so much and because of that I can't hate the baby under my heart. Alicija—if it's a girl, her name shall be Alicija.
I cringe when someone knocks on the door and shove the diary underneath the pillow to continue reading it later.
"Yes?"
"Hey sweetie, your mothers are gone. I'm sorry that everyone is picking on you." Aunt Rose tells me. She places a tray with a cup of tea and some cookies between us and smiles warmly at me.
"You should eat a bit. I bet you're hungry."
"If I eat, I'm going to throw up again." I warn her before I hesitantly start nibbling on one of the cookies. It's delicious. God, I'm starving.
"See? You need to eat for the baby."
"I'm not sure if I want to keep it. I'm too young."
"You are, but you're not alone in this. Ali and Bella are going to help you. I am going to help you."
I shake my head and take the mug with the tea between my hands. The tea is sweet. She must have put sugar in it.
"I wished this hadn't happened."
"I know. But it has. Look, I know that you don't see it like that right now but Children are a blessing. They truly are."
"I don't know how to be a mom."
"Nobody knows. You'll be a wonderful mother. Your little sister and Ry- I mean Rowan love you."
She leans forward and plants a kiss on my forehead. Then she tells me goodbye and walks out again. Hungrily, I eat the rest of the cookies and finish the tea. My stomach rumbles a bit but I'm almost sure I want puke again.
"Zoe, are you feeling a bit better now?" Dad asks me, entering the room. He sits down next to me and takes my hand in his.
"I think so." I tell him, my voice barely louder than a whisper.
"That's good. You shocked me quite a bit with this baby news. I'm too young to be a grandfather."
"I'm sorry."
"You don't have to be sorry. What's done is done. We should try to figure out what you want to do now. Do you want to keep it?"
I close my eyes. The gynecologist told me I'm seven weeks along now. I don't have a clue how an embryo looks like at this time. I do remember the tiny, fragile being that Hope has been after she was born. My heart cramps. I remember the beating of the machines surrounding the incubator. I remember how her little hand tried to grab the tip of my forefinger.
"I'm keeping it." I say. My hands move down to my flat abdomen.
"Good. We'll figure out how to handle things. I can take care of the baby while you're at College. You still want to go to College, don't you?"
I nod my head. "Maybe I'll take a year off. That would be okay, wouldn't it?"
"Sure, why not. Honey, you need to tell me who the father is, even when you don't want to have anything to do with him."
"What for?"
"Child support, what else? Oh and don't start this whole, it was a stranger at a party, again. You can tell that to your mother, if she believes you. I know you'd never be with someone you don't love."
"How do you know?"
"Because you're like me, exactly like me, sweet cheek,"
I lean against his side and rub my face against the sleeve of his shirt. "I can't tell you who he is."
"You're protecting the boy."
"Yes," I whisper. "God, this is so complicated."
"It's not. It just means you love him."
"I do."
"And he?"
"He doesn't say it but I know he cares."
"Some have trouble vocalizing their feelings. That's just how guys are like."
He sighs deeply and plays around on his wedding ring. "So, you love him and he loves you, doesn't sound too complicated to me."
I start crying, my glasses getting blind when I sniff loudly. "No one can know we're together."
"Why? Wait, the dude is not married or something?"
"Of course not! Please, Dad. Can you stop asking about him?"
"For tonight, yes, but not forever, baby. You know that you can tell me everything. I'm good at keeping secrets."
I stand up from the bed and stretch my arms above my head. "I'm going for a little walk. I need some fresh air."
"Okay. I'm coming with you."
"I want to be alone, Dad. That's why I wanted to stay here and not at home."
He nods his head and sighs deeply when I walk out. It is cold outside. I'm shivering after the first minute but I don't want to go back and get a jacket.
"There you are!" a familiar deep voice calls from behind a tree when I reach the corner of the street.
"Huch!" I call out, before I trip over something on the ground. His arms are around me before I make contact with the asphalt.
"You need to be more careful. It's not good for the baby if you fall down."
"What are you doing here, Nessie?"
"Looking for you, what else? My mother came home and told Dad where you are. I came here to talk to you."
I shake my head. "I don't want to talk."
"This is not the time to be stubborn. You and I, we're in this together. I love you."
He sits down on the small stripe of grass behind the tree and pulls me on his lap. My heart hammers in my chest. Can the baby hear that?
"You love me?"
"Of course, I love you, silly. You're a klutz. But you're my klutz."
His mouth finds mine in the light of the street lamp. I part my lips and let his tongue twirl around my own until a soft moan builds within my throat.
"We need to tell our parents."
"No,"
"Zoe, we have to. What if the baby pops out and looks like me? How are you planning on explaining that to your mothers?"
"I don't fucking know!"
Nessie takes my hands and presses his lips against my knuckles. "It's easy. We're just going to tell them that we belong together."
