Disclaimer: I don't own iCarly.

Author's Note: The first 3 people to update get their name in one of the chapters coming up. Hope you guys had a great Christmas/Chanakuh/Kwanaza/New Year!

Pregnant 11 Weeks

I really wish I didn't like this baby; I wish I just hated it. I'm not supposed to care about some stupid fetus living inside me. I was always so sure that I didn't want kids. I always had a plan. I didn't even think about getting married like all the other girls; I never thought I would. I didn't ever care.

I've always known I'd get in trouble, but this isn't what I meant.

I still can't go to sleep some nights because I spend hours looking back at how I used to love living my life. I liked to go to sleep in less than 4 minutes because I didn't think about anything before I crashed. Now I can't stop thinking. I would wake up in the morning, and the only thing I had to worry about was if the Shay's went grocery shopping. All the sudden everything changed, and I finally knew I wasn't just having a bad dream. Sometimes, though, I pinch myself just to be sure. I keep thinking about seeing a therapist, but I've been through that… they don't really help my problems.

All of the sudden, I hate ham. I hate the smell, and just looking at it makes me throw up. I miss loving ham, though.

I miss Carly. I didn't hate her… I can't hate Carly. I've known her too long; she's like a sister, and no matter what happens, you can't just hate your sister. I know she doesn't hate me, either.

For a little while, I blamed her for everything at school. I realized that's one of the worst mistakes I've ever made. She's angry, though. Carly is angry at what I did to her, and I would be, too. I know Spencer told her he knows. She knows Freddie knows. She knows that I kept it from her for 8 weeks. She felt betrayed, and she felt left out. Everyone, even her brother, knew and didn't tell her. How would that make me feel? It would make me feel like dirt. Like all those years of being best friends didn't mean anything. I bet she cried for hours and hours on end because of me treating her so badly. I bet she threw the dream catcher I made in art class in 5th grade for her out the window to drop to the city ground and get run over by cars. I made her feel like she was dirt. Stepped on, brushed off of, treated like a nothing. That's the worst feeling, I wish I wasn't so stupid. Keeping this baby a secret from her? That's the dumbest and most selfish thing I can do to her.

We promised no more secrets. I guess I just got too old for keeping promises. When we were little, keeping a promise meant that no matter what it cost you, you had to protect that secret like it was your life. It was everything.

I slid out of bed, and went to the mirror. My arm was in a sling, and I was glad. I was glad it wasn't worse, the baby thing was bad enough. I have to go to checkups more often so they can check on the baby.

Freddie protected me, even if he doesn't remember, he did. It doesn't matter if he wasn't even thinking, and it was just a reflex. Well, that means something. He may not trust me like he did before, but he cares. I never got around to thanking him, though. I keep trying to bring it up, but I don't. He doesn't even remember, anyway. I just want to tell him thanks. It could have changed everything if he didn't.

I looked into the mirror. It was cracked right down the middle from when my mom got angry and threw the hair brush and the mirror and cracked it. I'm glad it wasn't my head, even though that's already cracked anyway.

I'm still thin. You can't really notice I'm pregnant. I lifted up my shirt, and put my hand against my stomach.

There was a small bump, but it wasn't noticeable unless I wore a skin tight shirt. Not that it matters, everyone knows I'm pregnant. Not my mom, though. She doesn't matter, though. She wouldn't care.

I put on leggings and my jean skirt. It was getting tighter, which mean I was getting bigger. I gained 8 pounds. I weight 127, now.

I looked at myself in the mirror, and took the leggings off. I was wearing sweatpants today.

I took a pop tart, and two cups of pudding on the way out. Jeez, I can't help it. I've never taken the "healthy" choice with food, but this is worse, no wonder I gained 8 pounds.

I was walking to school today, my mom was probably sleeping off a hangover somewhere, plus I think I needed the exercise.

I guess I could've expected the obnoxious pregnancy comments from other seniors in their cars, but it did kind of take me by surprise, especially to see my science partner one of them. He wouldn't have done that if he was sitting next to me. Without any friends with him.

I didn't really think the kids in our school would do mean things like this, I just thought when they did it on TV it was just for the drama, but it actually happens. The iCarly views have gone down, since we haven't done a show in a few weeks. Carly hasn't talked to us, and honestly iCarly was the last thing on our minds. I think iCarly's over.

At school I walked up to my locker, and Carly was there.

"Hey…" I said slowly, hoping she won't ignore me again.

She did, so I continued.

"How's Spencer doing?" I asked.

She stuffed her book into the locker, "He's in pain sometimes." She plainly said, as if it was my fault. She sighed.

I did my combination for my locker, "Oh, well I hope he feels better."

When I open my locker, I gasped slightly. It made Carly look over.

It was decorated with small streamers and "Congrats on your pregnancy!" There were hurtful words written in marker, and a note taped that said, "Do you even know who the father is?"

I ripped it off, and groaned. I know Carly was still there.

I took down the signs, but the words were still written in the marker, and it wouldn't come off.

No matter what I covered it with, it would still be permanent.

I sighed, and threw the signs out. Carly was gone when I came back.

I walked to class, taking the pop tart out of my bag. I don't care who says anything to me about it. I was hungry, and I was going to throw up if I didn't eat. I don't care.

Suddenly, I collided with someone in the hallway.

"Oh, sorry-" He said, and my pop tart fell to the ground, and he laughed.

"What are you laughing at? So, I'm eating a pop tart! I can eat whatever I want, okay?" I said harshly.

"Woah," He held his palms up in defense, and smiled apologetically, "I'm not trying to be mean. Sorry."

I sighed, "Sorry."

"It's that bad, huh?" He said, walking next to me.

Why is he still here?

"Is what that bad?"

He turned his head to look at me, "The things people say to you… do they really get to you?"

I frowned. I knew what he was talking about.

"No."

"It seems like it, the way you just talked to me."

"Are you trying to make me feel bad? Because I don't."

"No. You don't look very happy going through the halls. I've seen you."

"I don't even know you, why are you watching me?"

He laughed, but I was annoyed.

"I notice you," He corrected me.

I stopped him there, "You only notice me because you know that I'm pregnant. Everyone notices me."

"Stop feeling bad for yourself, okay? That isn't even what I'm trying to get at. You aren't the one who is going through a hard time in school." He said, and then he left.

I stood there. I didn't know I was feeling bad for myself, but I guess I was.