For Lily Loud, the winter and spring brought great and dramatic changes, mainly centered around her body. The first and most obvious was her stomach - it was huge. Mom called her a tiny thing and that was never truer to Lily than when she woke up one morning and realized that 99 percent of her body mass was her stomach. Lola playfully likened it to a beach ball, and she wasn't wrong in that comparison. In fact, Lily would go her one better and say it was more akin to a medicine ball. It was heavy like one, too - by the beginning of March, her back screamed every time she rolled out of bed, and her feet ached monstrously after ten minutes of use. The second major change was her chest - it grew right along with her belly, and before she knew it, she had honest to God boobs. Prior to pregnancy, they were teeny little nubs that didn't even fill her hand, now they were at least B-cups. She wasn't vain like a certain older sister of hers, but having breasts like a woman was pretty nice.

Too bad they hurt.

As December progressed into January, her newfound bust began to ache, especially if, God forbid, anything touched them; sometimes just taking a deep breath was enough to make them throb.

Since Mom and Dad wouldn't let her have her laptop or cell phone back, she borrowed Lincoln's and looked up tender owie breasts during pregnancy (she literally included the word owie because she thought it was funny). Apparently, it was normal, so that was a load off - she thought they were infected with tit rot or something. That probably wasn't a real affliction, but trench rot was. The boys on the front during WWI got it from standing in rainwater. During Vietnam it was called jungle rot, and American GIs had to change their socks often to keep from winding up footless like Lt. Dan in Forrest Gump. Well...Lt. Dan was technically legless too, but you know what I mean.

One morning in February, she woke in a golden bar of sunshine to an unexpected but not unfamiliar sensation. Frowning, she pinched the front of her nightgown between her thumb and forefinger and pulled it away from her body.

Wet.

Uh….

Do boobs pee themselves?

She brought the material to her nose and took a deep, perplexed whiff: It smelled like nothing with a hint of nada. Huh. Was the roof leaking? Did it rain on her last night? She checked the bedding, and it was dry, so she ruled that out. She got up, went to the bathroom, and used the commde. Sitting there with her knees pressed together, elbows on her thighs and face in her hands, she struggled to keep from falling back asleep. Carrying a child was a lot more work than she ever thought; babies constantly siphon their mothers' energy and simply existing as a pregnant woman took a lot out of you...add to that lugging around a growing baby and you have a recipe for perpetual exhaustion. Her head lolled against her chest and she started to pitch forward; her heart blasted into her throat and she jerked, saving herself. That was a close one, she sighed and patted her stomach. You make mommy top heavy.

A warm, fuzzy tingle filled her chest the way it did every time she referred to herself as mommy. Before concieving, she never imagined she'd be so stupid happy to have a baby - indeed, even in the very beginning, she was more numb with disbelief than anything. Then, as weeks passed and she started to notice her stomach inflating, it became real...she was going to be a mommy. At first, that boggled her mind, then it intimidated her, then, like a woman reaching the final stage of grief (which is acceptance, by the way), she got excited. Laying in her room alone while Lincoln was at work, she would entertain elaborate fantasies of life with her little girl or boy, her chest aching with wistful longing until she could barely stand to wait any longer. She romanticized everything from bathtime to changing stinky diapers. When she saw a baby in public or on TV, she'd smile to herself and think I'm gonna have one of those soon - chubby feet to pinch, big, gummy smiles to relish, and lots of hugs and kisses. In other words, it was going to be freaking awesome.

She got up from the toilet...and something dribbled down her stomach. Knitting her brow, she lifted the hem of her dress to her neck...and blinked when she saw what it was.

Her nipples.

They were leaking.

During her first doctor visit, they gave her a huge stack of pamphlets and papers on pregnancy. Being the enthusiastic and dutiful expectant mother she was, she read every single word (often aloud to Lincoln as they lounged in her bed at night). One of the symptoms to expect (they really called it a symptom, like she was sick instead of incubating a life) was the 'discharge of colostrum' which was the stuff a pregnant woman produces before breastmilk. Her body was preparing itself for the baby, totally normal...save for the fact that this wasn't supposed to happen until the third trimester. Apparently her nervous system was just as impatient as her heart.

Despite the sore feet and back and the really achy knees, and the leaky nipples, and being tired, and all that other stuff, she kind of enjoyed being pregnant. Sitting alone on the couch or in the arm chair, she would affectionately rub her stomach and coo to it - hey, babies in the womb can hear, so why not get a headstart on telling them how much you love them? Every child needs a sturdy foundation of love, support, and encouragement, and the early you commit to building it, the better. Mommy and Daddy can't wait to meet you, mystery baby, she'd say - she called it mystery baby because she didn't know its gender yet and because it was cute. Suuuuue me. We're gonna have lots of fun together. And do lots and lots of snuggles. She would say the last word in a merry singsong voice, hug herself, and rock from side to side like the world's biggest doofus, but she was a happy doofus, so there *sticks out tongue*

One thing she absolutely could not stand about having a little munchkin in her guts were the mood swings. They were awful. She'd start the day crackling with energy, buzz around like a bee on coke, then tank hard in a matter of seconds. She would be standing in the shower, or sitting at the table (or in class) and heavy, black, cold depression would swoop out of nowhere like the Angel of Death. If she saw a marginally sad movie, or a marginally happy one, or anything with any emotion at all, her eyes teared up, her lips quivered, and BOOM, crying fit; sometimes nothing at all sent her weeping. In math class once, she idly thought I sure wish I got a chance to meet Pop Pop before he died...when the bell rang fifteen minutes later, she was still holding back sobs. She rarely ever thought about her grandfather, who shoved off his mortal coil when she was two, and she felt the same detachment toward him that one would an ancient ancestor in a painting, yet that day, the fact that she never knew him abso-freaking-lutely eviscerated her. By the time lunch was over, though, she was her old self again.

Something else she didn't really like about it was people looking at her like she was a scaly ten-eyed alien - when she went to the store with Mom, heads turned and eyes widened, and at school, kids whispered behind their hands as she passed in the hall. The teachers talked too - she overheard one referring to that pregnant girl. There was a book called The Scarlet Letter about a woman who has a child out of wedlock in Puratin times, and for the rest of her life she was forced to wear a dress with a scarlet 'A' for adulterer. Lily had never read it, but she knew of it, and being glancingly familiar with how repressive the puritans were, she imagined that an unmarried woman having a baby would cause one heck of a scandal.

That's how she felt sometimes, only instead of an A, she wore a distended stomach - not as permanent, but just as in-your-face. Everyone staring, gossiping, and silently (and not so silently) judging her made her feel like a freak, and in her darkest moments, she could barely look at herself in the mirror...or at her brother. She never stopped loving Lincoln, never could stop, but her emotions were in a tangle lump, one virtually indistinguishable from another, and she thought, sometimes, maybe they were wrong...wrong to feel the way they did, wrong to do what they'd done. It wasn't his fault, it was hers - he was a kind, normal, gentle big brother, and her heart somehow twisted that and tricked her into stupidly falling in love with him. She examined her life and her relationships with her mother, father, siblings, and classmates, and it occurred to her that she wasn't close to anyone at all...no one showed her affection or love or any of that other stuff the way Lincoln did. It made sense that she would latch onto him and develop misplaced feelings - wow, she was kind of pathetic huh?

Even so...she loved him. Maybe her heart was in the wrong place...maybe she was desperate...maybe a lot of things, but there was no maybe about how she actually felt.

The damage, in other words, had been done; life handed her a lemon shaped like her brother, and she simply had to make lemonade with it.

Lol, that's kind of what she was doing in her belly, turning one thing into another.

She came to accept that she was a pregnant eleven year old in love with her brother, but that didn't make the constant looks of scorn and sense of ridicule (most of it possibly the result of paranoia) any easier. Yeah, I know, I'm a little girl with a big pregnant belly, I'm an oddity, just please stop and let me be happy, okay? Is that so much to ask? Is it really?

Yep.

The most persistent source of vexation was A-Man-Duh, because why wouldn't it be? It started as soon as Lily began to show. Aw, look at Lily, she sat in the cafeteria one day, she's packing on the pounds.

Lily was sitting at the end of a table and A-Man-Duh standing, her toadies fanking her on either side like presidential bodyguard - they both wore dumb, hateful smiles and favored her with evil, glinting eyes. A-Man-Duh put her hands on her hips and leaned over. What's that? she asked and nodded to the honey bun on Lily's tray; Lily got it from the vending machine because mystery baby demanded dessert, and Lily had already learned that mystery baby got what mystery baby wanted.

Before Lily could reply, A-Man-Duh snatched it away and held it up, giving it a mocking little shake. You don't need this, fatty.

Give it back, Lily said, hating the pitiable quality of her voice.

Only fat cows eat things like this, the older girl replied with a disgusted hilt. She looked at it...then closed her hand around it and squeezed, crushing it like a mob hitman crushing a throat. The corners of her lips turned up in a sharp, sadistic smile and she looked deep into Lily's eyes as she tossed it back onto the tray; it landed in the mashed potatoes with a wet plop and splattered the front of Lily's shirt. Oops, A-Man-Duh said and pressed her fingertips innocently to her lips. Sorry, Lil, I totally did not mean to do that. The special emphasis on not says you're lying, A-Man-Duh. A-Man-Duh and her little friends walked off laughing like witches who just sacrificed an especially naive child to the Devil, and Lily sighed. She looked down at her shirt, then to the honey bun, smooshed and jutting from the potatoes like a finger from a grave. She really wanted it.

Sudden tears blurred her vision and she sucked her trembling lips into her mouth to keep from crying. She could get another one if she wanted...she had the money...or she could wipe the mashed potatoes off of the package and eat this one, but that wasn't the point. She dabbed her eyes with the cuff of her sweater and caught sight of A-Man-Duh across the lunch room; she sat ramrod straight at a table between her goons like an arrogant queen. Lily's tears burned away in a burst of anger, and her hand closed into a shaking fist. Fucking bitch, I hate her. She was so goddamn sick of A-Man-Duh and how she made her feel that she could get up, march over there, and slam the little cunt's tray into her face. Swing, batter, batter, swing. She saw the bully's head whipping to one side in a spray of blood and broken teeth, and the barbarous satisfaction in the center of her chest, like a bed of hot coals, sickened her at the same time it enticed her. Do it, Lil, smash her face into a million little pieces. You know you wanna~

Ooooh, she did...so bad it hurt, and if she wasn't pregnant, she would. She had mystery baby to think about, though - getting into a fight in her condition was not smart. Sigh. Her stomach rumbled, and she glanced at the honey bun with a thoughtful frown. Her pride told her to throw it away, but her child told her to scarf it down, then lick her fingers to catch any stray goodness.

Rumble.

But it's…

RUMBLE.

Fine. Feeling two inches tall, she pulled it out of the potatoes, wiped it off with her napkin, and tore it open. Her eyes went back to A-Man-Duh, and her chest clutched with rage. Stupid slut, Lily thought as she savagely bit a chunk from the honey bun. She deserved to have her head beat in.

If she kept up, Lily couldn't promise it wouldn't happen.

But keep up she did. For two weeks, A-Man-Duh hit her with every fat joke her reptilian little mind could muster - in the hallway, in class, in the cafeteria, imagine Lily walking with her books pressed to her chest with her teeth gritted, one eye twitching, and a harried expression on her face as disembodied A-Man-Duh heads floating in a circle around her and you'll see how it affected her.

Then, one day, it happened. She was standing in the cafeteria and minding her own business...just to be started by a shocked gasp. She looked up, and A-Man-Duh gaped at her with a mixture of horror and revulsion. You're not fat...you're pregnant. She pronounced the last word with dripping moral outrage, as though Lily were doing something gross and unseemly. Uh, yeah. Took you long enough to notice.

A-Man-Duh's face crinked. Slut.

Thus began her new campaign of harassment, centered on what a ho Lily was. Lily bore it with as much grace and dignity as she could, but it really, really, really pissed her off. Finally, one day, she was waiting in line for lunch. Look, girls, A-Man-Duh said, it's Lily. Don't get too close, you might catch her AIDS. They laughed mean-spiritedly and Lily ignored them. I wonder who the Daddy is. Do you even know, Lily?

Yes, I do; he's the most wonderful man to ever live.

I bet it's her father, Chanel said.

Lily tensed. No it wasn't, but for some reason Lily couldn't name, that hit just a little too close for comfort.

Does he rape you, Lily? Do you need a safe place to spend the night?

Anger flared in Lily's breast and her hand clenched. Leave me alone, she growled.

Instead, they laughed. She gave it up on her own, Brooke said. How does your father taste, Lil?

Snapping, Lily spun on her heels, shoulders bunched and teeth bared. Her flesh smoldered from head to toe and her heart pounded a frenetic tempo. Leave me the fuck alone, Lily said.

Oooh, she's getting mad, Chanel said.

A-Man-Duh crossed her arms and cocked her hip; her eyes flashed with evil ill-intent and her lips carved up in a wicked smile. A shudder went through Lily, starting in her feet and racing up to her cowlick, scorching every bone, organ, and cell along the way. The muscles in her arms quivered, and a hot, seering lump of fury throbbed in the center of Lily's chest - everything A-Man-Duh had ever done or said came back to her in a choking torrent and her head ached so hard the edges of her vision grayed. All thoughts scattered away, and in their place was only hatred.

Sensing Lily's anger, A-Man-Duh leaned forward. She's just upset her baby's going to come out retarded.

Lily snapped; she saw her arm shoot out, but didn't feel it...saw her fist crash into Amana's mouth, but was not aware of her teeth crunching under her knuckles, saw her crumple to the ground in a heap, but felt nothing save overwhelming wrath. A-Man-Duhs cronies fell back a step, their eyes widening, and Brooke's hand flew to her mouth. Fuck you, bitch, Lily said. Her voice was muffled to her own ears, and she didn't realize she screamed it, didn't notice every head turning and every eye beholding her like a black Madonna come to purge sin from the world. A-Man-Duh quaked like a puddle of jelly and coughed; blood and pulverized shards of teeth spurted across the tiles, and when Lily saw it, the fire in her went instantly cold and sharp remorse washed through her like poison. Her heart stopped dead in its tracks, then sank into her already roiling stomach. Chanel and Brooke were helping A-Man-Duh up, and Lily caught a flash of the bully's face: Her lips were split and oozing blood and her closed eyelids fluttered rapidly like a dreamer in the REM cycle. She let out a pained groan...and Lily broke down crying, a bitter mixture of shame, repulsion, and horror slithering through her stomach. She was still crying when a teacher came over and escorted her to the principal's office, still crying when the principal suspended her for three days, and sniffling when her mother came to pick her up. On the ride home, Mom gripped the wheel tightly and stared straight ahead as she'd done on the day Lily found out she was pregnant. Lily stared down at her lap and waited for Mom to berate her.

She didn't. What happened? she asked with strained patience.

Lily thought for a long time before she finally told Mom about the months of bullying. When she was spent, she sagged back against the seat and blinked away a fresh crop of tears. I'm sorry, she said.

I'm not, Mom said, surprising her. Sounds like she deserved it. Mom glanced at her and frowned. Why didn't you tell me?

Lily sighed. I didn't think it would help.

Mom nodded her understanding. I know, honey. I'm sorry. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?

Lily's hackles raised. Was she trying to get her to give up mystery baby's father again? Cuz that's where it sounded like this was heading. Come to think of it, she hadn't asked in a while, so they were well overdue for it. Yes, Lily said guardedly.

Mom looked at her, then reached over and patted her knee. I just want you to know that, honey.

After that day, A-Man-Duh left her alone, and though it made her feel bad, Lily couldn't help but take pride in making her bully stop. Her whole life, she'd been conditioned to tell the teacher when someone was picking on her, but it never worked...for her or anyone else, it seemed. Who would have known that the only way to stop a kid harassing you was to punch their lights out? Certainly not her. She didn't like doing it, but getting through her school day in peace was really nice. Plus, there was the added bonus that the other kids were too afraid to mess with her lest they suffer the same fate as A-Man-Duh.

A few weeks later, she found out mystery baby's gender, and from that point on she was Layna Rose Loud, a name so beautiful and heartwarming that she repeated it to herself when she was alone, and smiled like a goofy goober. Layna Rose Loud, Layna Rose Loud, Layna Rose Loud. No arrangement of words had ever felt better to speak or to hear - when Lincoln said it (and she asked him to frequently), she turned to mush and giggled whether she wanted to or not.

In May, the doctor scheduled a C-section for August 18 - that date would forevermore be the most significant in her life. Funny how you can see the same day year after year and never know that in a year or two or even four, it would no longer be a random blip on the calendar but so important that you would never forget it. At least she thought so, but she was a weirdo.

The last months of Lily's pregnancy took place during the hottest summer in Michigan since 1976 - temps regularly exceeded 90 degrees, and for a week during late June and early July, Royal Woods was gripped by a record breaking heatwave. She was big, sweaty, and uncomfortable, her body singing a constant chorus of aches and pains that never ceased, even when she was lying in bed.

Then, on July 28, something bad happened.