Chapter 18

Being on her feet at work was starting to take its toll on Clarke. Her feet weren't exactly swollen yet, but they were starting to hurt more and more each day. She wasn't sure how she was going to handle it when they actually did start to swell, or when her back really started to hurt. It was going to get pretty painful, and she'd just have to power through it.

While she worked, her boss gave her a lot of a curious looks, and Clarke wondered if it was because she'd shown up not looking like herself, wearing sweatpants instead of jeans. Her jeans were just feeling a bit too snug these days. She needed something she could breathe in.

When they had a lull in customers, Diyoza sidled up to her behind the bar and said, "Alright, I'm just gonna ask it: How far along are you?"

Clarke stopped wiping down the counter and looked down at her stomach self-consciously. "Eleven weeks." She really couldn't hide it anymore, could she? There was a bump, one that was a little too rounded to be mistaken for the common weight gain. When she sat down, it pooched out, and it was pretty obvious what was up.

"When were you gonna tell me?" Diyoza asked.

Clarke shrugged. "I just figured I'd start to get round and people would know."

"Hmm. I've been wondering for a few weeks now. You're not big, but I can definitely tell."

"Yeah. My clothes are all too tight," she lamented. Even the shirt she was wearing right now felt a little more snug than it usually did.

"Well, my sister was pregnant last year. Let me see if I can get you some maternity clothes," Diyoza offered.

"That'd be great. Thanks." Since she was trying to be self-sufficient when it came to money matters, she'd figured she would end up having to go to the thrift store to see if they had anything that would fit her in the coming months. But hopefully Diyoza's sister had some stuff that was actually still cute and fashionable. The thrift store wasn't known for style.

The conversation turned serious when her boss inquired, "Bellamy's not the father, is he?"

She shook her head sadly. "No."

"You know who is?"

The door opened, and almost as if on cue, Finn strolled inside. "He is," she said, surprised to see him there. For the past couple days, he hadn't called her or texted her or reached out in any way. It'd sort of seemed like he was avoiding her. "Hey," she said as he approached the bar.

"Hey," he returned. "Can we talk?"

"Right now?" She'd sort of assumed they would talk in private, maybe at her place since she really didn't need to be breathing in secondhand smoke and pot smells while pregnant. Or ever.

"Yeah."

She cast a questioning glance at her boss, and Diyoza nodded. "Go ahead."

Grateful to be working for someone who was understanding and didn't mind giving her an extra break this afternoon, Clarke slipped off into the back room with Finn, figuring it offered at least some privacy. Sure, she could still hear noise and activity from out in the bar, but for the most part, it was quiet, and they were alone. "Are you sure you wanna talk here?" she asked him. "We could meet up tonight, maybe at my place."

"Here's fine," he said.

"But I'm working," she pointed out. It wasn't exactly the most ideal time for what was bound to be a serious conversation. They had a lot to talk about.

"I know," he said. "I just . . . I've given it a lot of thought these past few days, and there's some stuff I gotta get off my chest."

Off his chest? She wasn't sure what to make of that, but she was willing to hear him out. "Okay."

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looked down at his feet, and mumbled, "I still think you should put the baby up for adoption, Clarke. You and I . . . we're not ready to have a kid."

That was his lead-in? That was what he was starting with? Not exactly what she wanted to hear since she thought she'd made it pretty clear that adoption wasn't going to happen. "I—I think we can get ready, though," she stammered. "I mean, I'm not even through the first trimester yet. We've got a little time."

"Maybe you can get ready," he said, still not looking her in the eye. "I can't."

He sounded so sure, but . . . how could he be sure of anything? He hadn't even tried yet. "What're you saying?" she asked, a bit fearful of where this was going. Her bottom lip quivered.

Flapping his arms against his side almost helplessly, he muttered, "I don't know what else to say other than . . . I don't wanna have a baby."

She winced, wondering if he'd rehearsed this. If so, he should have practiced some different lines. "Well, we're having one," she said. There was no backtracking they could do, no do-over they would receive. Choices had consequences, and when you made a choice to do something, you had to live with the consequences. She knew that, so why didn't he?

"Listen, I just . . ." He paused for a moment and sighed heavily. "I just don't really wanna be a dad yet. You know?"

No, she didn't know. Because even though she was still terrified of being a mom, she'd experienced the fear of losing this baby already, and having gone through that . . . she felt attached to it now, in a way she hadn't before. "Well, I'm having this baby," she stated assertively. "I'm raising this baby." Visions of raising it alone filled her head, and her voice was merely a plea when she whimpered, "Aren't you gonna help me?"

Finn gulped, finally lifting his head to look at her. He had tears in his eyes and a guilty expression on his face. "I can . . . I can pay child support if that helps," he offered weakly. "But I don't . . . I don't wanna be there for all the day-to-day stuff. That's not what I want in life right now."

Oh my god, she thought, feeling like the floor was falling out from underneath her. This just wasn't the way she'd expected this conversation to go. "So you write a check every month, and everything else just falls to me?" she managed to squeak out, her jaw shaking as she tried to hold herself together. "It must be nice to have such an easy way out."

"I'm not trying to just dump all the responsibility on you," he insisted.

"But isn't that what you're doing?" All that day-to-day 'stuff' he didn't want to be a part of . . . that would automatically fall to her. Waking up in the middle of the night to comfort their crying child, changing its diapers, making sure it had food to eat and clothes to wear, taking it in for all its appointments and getting it into school someday . . . that was all going to be her job if Finn didn't help out.

"Well, you made the decision to have the baby," he said. "My input doesn't matter there. So if I can't control what happens while you're pregnant, then at least I can control what happens with my life."

"And what about my life, huh?" she challenged, staring at him in disbelief. Didn't it matter at all to him that this was going to affect her, too?

"You're making a choice, just like I am," he said. "Look, I know this sounds harsh, but I'm just trying to be honest with you."

She felt her breathing start to quicken as the panic set in. This wasn't a bad dream; it was real. Finn was really dumping all of this on her. Child support wasn't actually a very supportive thing. He'd pay a couple hundred bucks a month, and that was it. He'd be off scot-free.

"No, that's good," she said, trying not to just break down and cry in front of him. She didn't want him to see her get so upset because of him. "I appreciate the honesty. Now at least I know where you stand." Knowing that she wouldn't be able to rely on him was better than holding onto the hope that she would. Now she could prepare for . . . everything.

"It's not like you'll be all on your own, though," he said. "You've got your parents to help you out."

She almost laughed at that. Her parents. Yeah, her mom worked over forty hours a week, and her dad lived two hours away. Kane would probably help her whenever he could, and her mom wasn't going to leave her to fend for herself financially, but if he thought for one second that this was going to be easy on her just because she had a family and he didn't, then he was sorely mistaken.

"I'm sorry, Clarke," he apologized, lowering his head again, as if he were ashamed. Which he had every reason to be. He sulked out of the room, back out to the bar, and Clarke just stood there, shaking, trying to stay as calm as she could. She didn't need to get all worked up and stressed right now. That wouldn't be good for her or the baby. Maybe after she left work, then she could let it all out, but for now, she had to get back out there and do her job.

...

"Oh, Clarke. Don't worry," Raven soothed, rubbing Clarke's back. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"No, it's not," Clarke cried, all hunched over, her head in her hands. She'd managed to hold it together after Finn had left, but Diyoza must have sensed that something bad had gone down, because she told her to head home early. Instead of heading home, she'd driven to her best friend's apartment, in desperate need of some consolation. "I'm a single parent," she bemoaned, sitting up long enough to grab a Kleenex from the coffee table and wipe the smearing makeup away from her eyes.

"Well, that's okay," Raven said softly. "My dad was a single parent, and he did alright."

She blew her nose, shaking her head. "Your dad had a job. And a college degree. And he didn't live in his parents' beach house."

"Well, his parents didn't even own a beach house," Raven pointed out.

"My dad still doesn't even know," she wept. "He's probably gonna get his girlfriend pregnant, and then this baby's gonna be older than its aunt or uncle." She dissolved again, bending back over to hide her face. She was an ugly crier, and her crazy hormones were going to ensure that this didn't let up for a while.

"Okay, now you're just speculating," Raven said.

The door to the small apartment opened, and Murphy came in, narrating something. Clarke didn't even have to look up to know that he was likely filming a vlog. "So finally, I just turned around and said to him, 'If had a face like yours, I'd fucking sue my parents,'" he said. "Uh-oh, what do we got goin' on here?"

"Turn the camera off," Raven hissed.

Hopefully he hadn't been livestreaming. Clarke hated the thought of this being broadcast to his two-hundred thousand subscribers. Or whatever he was up to now.

Although he wasn't always the most sensitive when it came to human emotions, Murphy did have the courtesy to ask, "You okay, Clarke?"

The only response she could muster was a loud sob.

"Just go," Raven told him.

"Banished to the bathroom again," he mumbled, walking that way.

Clarke waited until he disappeared in there and shut the door to sit up straighter. "If he wants more viewers, you should tell him to film my dramatic life," she said.

"It'll calm down," Raven said, putting her arm around her, pulling her in for a hug. "I promise."

Clarke really wanted to believe her, and Raven was super smart. She knew a lot of things. But she didn't know anything about this. She'd never been pregnant before, and when she did get pregnant someday, she and Murphy would probably be married and actively trying, and everything would just go according to plan. Clarke had tried to plan her life out, too, but there were just so many things that hadn't gone the way she'd anticipated.

...

It was a rare thing when Maryland got to play in a primetime Saturday night game, so when it happened, Bellamy wasn't going to miss it. Sure, the Terrapins sucked at football, and they sucked even more for not even bothering to recruit him. But they were playing Ohio State, and even though there was virtually no chance they would win, the small .01 percent chance of an upset kept Bellamy glued to the screen. Maryland was trailing but still within striking distance when they tried a pass play on third and three instead of handing it off for a run.

"What the fuck kind of play was that?" Bellamy roared, shooting to his feet. "Are you kidding me?" He threw his hands up in the air, fed up with the coach for making such shitty calls.

"Waste of a down," his mom agreed.

Yeah, and now they had to punt. The Buckeyes were going to get decent field position, too, because their punter couldn't kick for shit. "See, this is why Ohio State wins all the time. 'cause the Big Ten sucks," he ranted, picking up his phone when it rang. It was . . . Raven? Huh. "Hey, you watchin' this game?" he answered.

"No, but I'm sure it's a travesty," she said. "Did you talk to Clarke today?"

"No." He immediately looked away from the screen. "Why?"

"She and Finn . . ." Raven trailed off, then sighed. "Finn came to see her."

"And?"

A slight pause, and then Raven told him, "It didn't go so well. You should probably go check up on her. I think she needs you right now."

His heart just sank for her, because he could only imagine what that meant. If Raven was calling him about it, though, then it must have been pretty bad. "Yeah, I will," he said. "Thanks." He ended the call and took one more look back at the game, not even able to muster up any excitement when Maryland pulled off a fake punt and snuck in for another first down.

His mom, too, was distracted now. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's Clarke," he said. "I gotta go."

She just nodded, didn't ask any questions, so he ducked into his bedroom to grab his keys, then headed straight out. That stupid game didn't really matter anymore.

He thought about stopping at the gas station and picking up a bag of Doritos for Clarke, just because he'd noticed her eating a lot of them lately. But that was going to take more time than it was worth, and he just wanted to get to her, so he drove directly there. He was at her house in about ten minutes, and he tried to brace himself for what kind of condition he might find her in. Pregnant women were known for huge mood swings under normal circumstances, and whatever was going on with her and Finn didn't even sound normal.

When she opened the front door, she looked . . . pretty down in the dumps. Her hair was frizzing out to the sides, she had no makeup on, and there were brown crumbs smeared around her mouth, like she'd been snacking on something. She had on a long-sleeved plaid shirt that went down to mid-thigh and covered up her growing baby bump.

"Sorry," he said, "I know it's late."

"No, you're fine." She opened the door wider and stepped aside. "I was just watching this game, eating my feelings."

"Me, too," he said, wiping his shoes off on the welcome mat.

"You were eating your feelings?"

"No, but I was watching the game." He glanced up at her flat-screen TV to check the score and groaned in disappointment. "Oh god, it's even worse." Apparently the fake punt hadn't gotten them anywhere, because Ohio State was ahead by three touchdowns now.

"Yeah, they just scored off an interception," she said, picking up the remote. "It's all over." She turned off the TV and bent down to clean up her coffee table, which had some of the same crumbs on it that her face did.

"Oreos, huh?" he noted.

"One of my cravings." She brought the box of cookies into the kitchen, set them on the counter, and wiped off her mouth with her sleeve. "So what're you doing here?" she asked him.

It definitely wasn't just a random drop-in, and he couldn't very well pretend that it was. "Raven called me," he revealed. "She said I should come by."

Clarke nodded slowly, a downtrodden look on her face. "Did she tell you what happened?"

"Kind of." Even without all the details, he felt like he could speculate on what had happened. "She said you talked to Finn today."

"Yep," she practically whispered. That sadness surrounding her just got sadder.

"What'd he say?" Although he didn't wanna make her relive the whole thing again, the only way he could try to make her feel better was if he knew what had gone down.

"Exactly what I was hoping he wouldn't say," she answered. "He doesn't want the baby, doesn't wanna be a part of its life. But—get this—he offered to pay child support." She laughed angrily, shaking her head, and blinked back tears. "Oh, I guess that's better than nothing, though, right?"

God, that made Bellamy's blood boil. Child support was a joke these days. The courts didn't enforce it the way they were supposed to, and lots of guys got away with not paying everything they owed. "How could he do this?" he wondered aloud, more to himself than to her. "How the hell can he just leave you to fend for yourself?"

"Well, I've got my parents. That's another thing he pointed out," she said. "So apparently between them and his monthly check, it should just all be so easy." She huffed, blinking rapidly as a few tears spilled over. "God, I don't know why I ever assumed he'd come around. He's not the world's most mature guy, he was never the greatest boyfriend. And you saw where he lives and who he lives with now. His life's a joke. So . . . so I guess he was right about one thing then: He's really not ready to be a dad."

Fuck, that wasn't fair, though. She was the one who was physically pregnant, so she got stuck with the full burden of this. Just like his mom had. "Then you don't need him," he said, closing the distance between them. Hell, he didn't even know his dad, but he doubted there was anything some deadbeat like him could have ever given him that his mom hadn't been able to. He didn't need two parents, not when he had one really good one. Clarke's kid would be the same.

"That's what I'm trying to tell myself, but . . ." Her eyes were glossy and full of emotion when she looked up into his eyes. "Bellamy, I'm so scared," she confessed. "What if I can't do this?"

"You can," he assured her, and he wasn't just saying the words to say them. He really believed in everything he was saying. "You're strong, you're tough. You're a badass. You're . . ." There weren't enough words in the world to describe how fucking awesome Clarke Griffin was. "You're a brave princess," he said, smiling at her.

She managed a brief smile back, but it quickly morphed into crying. He watched her whole body just crumple and fall forward a bit, so he took her into his arms and held her tightly, trying to be the strength she needed right now, the literal shoulder for her to cry on. She clutched at his shirt and pressed her face into his chest, and her body shook as the tears poured out of her. It was one thing to see her look so sad or sound so sad, but to feel that sadness, to feel it right there in his arms . . . it just broke his heart for her. Especially since he remembered a high school girl who'd been so happy.

...

Bellamy was beginning to like the library a lot better. All those shelves of books provided a great place for him and Clarke to make out, with little fear of getting caught as long as they were quiet. He loved pressing her back against the shelves, getting to cup her ass with one hand while she hiked her leg up around his waist. And the way she rolled her head to the side to give him better access to suck on her neck . . . it was so fucking sexy.

"We're gonna get in trouble," she moaned breathily.

"For making out?" He kissed his way back up to her cheek.

"In the school library? Yeah."

"Sorry," he said, grinning flirtatiously. "I just can't resist you." He gave her mouth one more kiss, then lowered his head and latched onto the other side of her neck, sucking vigorously at her pulse point, hoping he'd leave a hickey there.

"Uh," she moaned, tangling her hands in his hair, "I wish we could have sex right now."

That was actually a great idea. His head shot up, and he felt inspired. There were a lot of places in this old building that didn't have cameras. The bathroom, the janitor's closet, outside by the busses. "We can," he said.

"No, we can't."

"Why not?"

The first bell of the day rang, interrupting them and signaling that it was time to head to class. "That's why not," she said.

"We could skip," he suggested, "go to my house for a while, do it during first period." His first class was . . . well, English, which he wasn't doing so well in, but they probably weren't doing anything all that important.

"I have a test," she said, pouting. "And you can't miss, because you have to pass your classes so you can play football."

"I hate my classes," he groaned, lowering his head to her shoulder, breathing in the floral scent of her shampoo. Damn, she always smelled so good. " I like you better."

"Well . . ." Her fingers played with the curls at the back of his neck, and the leg she had around his waist, tightened, pulling his lower body in even closer to hers. "It'd probably be okay if we're just a couple minutes late."

"Mmm." He liked the sound of that as he returned to sucking on her neck.

"Just a couple, Bellamy," she warned. "Just a couple."

Oh, it'd be more than a couple. For sure.

...

The longer Bellamy held Clarke, the less her body trembled. Her crying started to subside, but she stayed right there next to him, her forehead pressed against his chest, her hands gradually sliding downward, closer to his waist. He tried to remind himself that she was going through a lot right now, that maybe she wasn't even thinking clearly, and he kept his hands right where they were, on her shoulders and the small of her back. But still, he didn't object when her delicate fingers popped open the button of his jeans and slid his zipper down a bit.

Did she really wanna do this right now? Or was she just trying to get her mind off of Finn and onto something else? He didn't get a chance to ask her, because all of a sudden she was up on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his, kissing him insistently. Her hands slid right up under his shirt, smoothing over his abdomen and his chest, and before he even knew what was happening, she was grabbing the bottom of it in both hands, tugging it upward. Their mouths broke apart long enough for her to get his shirt off of him, and although it was tempting to just keep kissing as she pressed her whole body against his and sought out his lips, he had to stop her.

"Clarke . . ." He grabbed onto her upper arms, holding her back a bit. "What're we doin'?"

"I don't know," she whispered breathlessly, looking down at his pants, where he could already feel a bulge. Her eyes fixated there for a moment, but then she looked down at her own shirt as she undid the buttons and let it hang open, revealing nothing but a bra, panties, and a slightly rounded stomach underneath. Then looked up at him again and whimpered tearfully, "I don't know." There was this look of utter desperation all over her face. Just all over it, in her beautiful blue eyes and on her quivering lips.

Although he wasn't sure whether he should or not, he gave in to the temptation as their mouths met in a searing kiss. He really never could resist her.

He pushed her shirt off her shoulders, and she shrugged it down to the floor. They were a mess of limbs as they grabbed at each other, both of them unusually uncoordinated and awkward as they stumbled against the counter. Winding his hands around her backside, he considered hoisting her up there for a moment, but she seemed to have other ideas as she spun around and ground her ass back into him, rubbing it against the bulge in his jeans.

"Oh . . ." he groaned, vividly remembering how it felt to fuck her from behind. Because that was what it was when they did it like that, straight up fucking. As much as he loved climbing on top of her and just drilling her hips down into the mattress or watching her tits bounce when she rode the hell out of him, he loved doing her in doggy-style. He loved it so much.

Clarke was eager as fuck, almost frantic, as she slid her panties down. They dropped to her ankles, and she stepped out of them, bending right over that counter with her perfectly-curved ass sticking out for him. He quickly got his pants and underwear down to his feet, not patient enough to step out of them. With no need for a condom, he moved in behind her, holding his cock in one hand so he could tease her entrance with it. She was wet, but he wanted to make her even more so. Eventually, it was too much for him, though, and he had to plunge right in.

"Oh . . ." A loud moan rose through her when they first joined. She lifted her head up off the counter, repositioning herself so just her elbows were resting on it, and swiveled her hips around a bit, turning him on more than she knew. He had to pause for a moment and just breathe, afraid that he'd cum just from being inside her. It just felt so good. It always did.

Grabbing her hips, careful not to dig his fingers in too hard, he began thrusting forward, giving her just a taste of how he wanted to fuck her. He didn't want to go too hard, didn't want to press her up against the counter too forcefully. But when she whispered, "Oh, Bellamy . . ." he had to pick up the pace just a little bit.

Good God, the view of this was incredible. He loved watching his cock slide in and out of her, filling her up. Her pussy felt so damn tight around him, and it was like it just kept pulling him farther and farther inside.

He slid his hands further around her stomach, cradling her bump, loving the feel of it. Making sure to keep one hand there, splayed across her bellybutton, he smoothed the other up her back. When her hair was longer, he was better able to grab hold of it, but since it was short now, he squeezed her shoulder to get her attention.

Curiously, she peeked over her shoulder. Words weren't necessary for him to communicate that he wanted her to stand up a bit. He just pulled gently on her shoulder, and she got the message. She pressed her hands down on the counter and straightened out, leaning back against him. Her breathing was coming in heavy pants, so he slowed his pace just a bit, but he elongated his thrusts, really rolling his hips into her. The change in position made it a bit harder to get that in-and-out motion, so she spread her legs a bit more, and that made it easier.

Oh, fuck, he thought, wrapping one arm around her breasts, which were nearly spilling out of her bra. They definitely felt bigger already, but he didn't squeeze or grab at them too much in case they were sore. He just held his arm around them, held his hand on her stomach, and let himself get lost in her warmth. His head was spinning by the time he brought his lips down to her shoulder, pressing first a sloppy kiss against it, then a gentle bite. She made all sorts of sounds that were sexy as hell—lots of moaning, but not the fake kind—and arched her back and her throat. Her legs were shaking a bit, but it didn't matter. As long as he was behind her, he'd hold her up.

He kept fucking her, pretty sure this wasn't what Raven had meant when she'd told him to come check up on her. But he was too caught up to question it. Way too caught up.