fourth draft

Chapter two

Stiles sat on the floor of the upstairs bathroom with his back against the door and legs stretched out in front of him; a small plastic bag to his left. He had turned the shower on at full blast. Hopefully it was loud enough and no one would hear him. The bag was from a chemist, two towns over. That was the easy part; nobody is going to judge a guy for buying a pregnancy test. It's not like they're condoms. Stiles could have laughed at how fucked up that was if he had hadn't been channelling all his energy into not throwing up. Again. At this stage he didn't know if it was nerves or … whatever was making him sick.

"It's okay" he soothed himself, speaking aloud "It's fine, just open the bag and take the test. No. Big. Deal." From now on he is going to have to keep a regular stock of emergency contraceptives. And come to think of it, so should Malia.

After what could have been hours, Stiles gave in and emptied the thin bag's contents onto the floor. He tucked his legs under his bottom and pushed the two boxes apart. Were two testes going to be enough? He had briefly done some research on the laptop as to how many to take. It had to be a fair test, right? One wouldn't do. Most of the women online said that they took one before bed and the other as soon as they woke the next day. Stiles couldn't wait till then so noon would just have to suffice. Would it really make that much difference? If this comes out negative, I will take the other one tomorrow, he decided. It felt good to have some kind of plan.

He had intended to open the package from the top then slide the contents on to the white titles before him but he had ended up ripping the box in two. The contents flew in the air and made a clattering sound as the plastic hit the floor. Stiles waited a couple of seconds to see if anyone would interrupt him but in reality the sound was hardly loud enough to have been heard without the shower on.

He briefly read through the instructions but TV had already taught him all he needed to know: pee on the sick, then wait and see if murder was on the agenda. So he did. He peed and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Christ, this felt like the longest three minutes of his life. Images of Derek flooded his mind. He imagined what it would be like to kiss him. Why couldn't he remember? He didn't even have a vague idea, the memory was completely gone. What good is a pregnancy scare if you don't even get to remember the sex.

By now Stiles had began pacing up and down the length of the small room, audibly whining and mumbling to himself. He almost dropped the stick when his phone buzzed. Fucking Scott. But before he could read the text, the timer on his phone popped up and started vibrating. Scott will have to occupy himself for now. Destiny awaits.

The pink plastic stick had a small window that showed an even smaller strip of what looked like white blotting paper. Stiles almost couldn't believe his eyes as he saw the two horizontal lines appear. He must be seeing things. This isn't right. I don't even have a fucking vagina. Stiles scrambled for the instructions in case he had read them wrong. He reread every word in English and even the polish sections once or twice. He then focused on two lines in particular. He read those a few more times just to be sure. His gut feeling was confirmed. He stared blankly at nothing in particular as realisation sank in.

"I'm… pregnant" he barely spoke, after lazily falling down into a rough sitting position on the floor. He slouched back against the bath tub were the shower was still running. "I-i'm preg-" he couldn't manage it the second time. He didn't have the energy to even begin fathoming how this was at all possible. But as much has he tried to deny it, all along, some part deep inside of him had known what the result was going to be.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there when he heard his dad banging angrily on the door and yelling at him to please get out of the shower because dinner was almost done. In any normal circumstance he would have worried that his dad had thought he was masturbating, but he didn't dwell on that today.

Stiles spent the rest of the day and all night in a trance, barely communicating with anyone. Not his dad, not his girlfriend; he didn't even looked at his phone to see what Scott had wanted. The next morning before school had started, Stiles hung back by his lockers instead of seeing his friends. But as he was putting his books for the next couple of periods in his rucksack, his best friend popped up behind him.

"Hey dude, what's up?" Scott leaned against the red lockers and watched Stiles fumble with his books but Stiles didn't look at him once.

"Not much"

"I guess you didn't get my texts?" Stiles just shrugged as he slammed the door shut twice and turned to hide in the toilets until school started.

"Whoa, hold on dude" Scott caught the hood of Stiles oversized Hoodie and pulled him back until they faced each other. "Did I do something wrong?" Stiles rolled his eyes and adjusted his jacket.

"Yeah, 'cos of course nothing can ever happen to me without coming back to you somehow" Now Scott was the one sighing, he began to correct Stiles as that was not what he meant but couldn't get a word in.

"No, really man. How could I forget? My whole freaking world revolves around you, right? Doesn't everything?"

"Are you done?" Stiles didn't reply and instead just frowned at him, staring intensely. The phrase 'if looks could kill' fluttered through Scott's mind. He closed the gap between them "What's going on, man?" he asked softly. Stiles dropped his eyes then looked back up at Scott.

"Fuck off" Stiles glared. To which Scott just put his hands up in surrender and backed away as the bell rang, leaving Stiles almost alone. The halls had been buzzing just seconds ago but this close to midterms, people were egger not to be late for class.

So, yeah. It's fair to say that he and Scott weren't exactly talking at the moment. This really and truly sucked because if there was ever a time when Stiles needed his best friend it was now. Here was Stiles, his whole future in the balance, considering the possibility that he might have to drop out of high school and all Scott could do is bitch to his girlfriend about some stupid argument they had had: which wasn't even really his fault. Besides, it was hardly fair to hold him responsible for anything he did at the moment. Especially when he had no idea what was even happening to his own body. Google didn't help either. He'd read every website explaining what happens when you are pregnant and he still wasn't sure what to expect on the account of him being a bloody boy. i.e. Not a girl. His body did seem to be reacting in the same way though, at least as far as he could tell.

Scott was being a self-centred, prying douche. Even if he was just trying to make sure his friend was okay and didn't actually know about any of this.

So here Stiles was, sitting in English on the opposite side of the room from his best friend; which on the account of them always sitting together since middle school had caused a few whispers. All he wanted to do was curl up in ball, listening to 'A Day To Remember' really loudly with Scott sitting next to him, not saying a word. He had to do something before it was all too late. He was going to have to confide in someone, right? He couldn't do this by himself; he wouldn't even know where to begin. Derek maybe? God no, he'd probably wanna keep it. Melissa? She'd tell Dad and he was NOT finding out about this. It's not like Stiles needed anything else to been seen as a disappointment to his dad or so he thought anyway. Maybe Scott...? He did miss him, and there is no way Scott could be mad at him forever. Could he?

On second thoughts, it would probably be best if no one, ever, found out about this.

All in all, it actually turned out to be an absolutely terrible day of high school drama: teachers refusing to believe he need to go to the toilet, again; and arguing with his best friend, all while trying to figure out how he was going to abort the life growing inside of him. So when he finally got home, Stiles was more than ready for bed.

He started walking up the stairs, grateful for the bed that was waiting for him when his father stopped him on the landing.

"We need to talk" Said his father with a stern expression that Stiles didn't notice at first.

"Cant it wait!?" Stiles whined, rolling his eyes. His father's eyes flickered across Stiles' face as he noticed his puffy, blood shot eyes. "I've had a really bad day" But the sheriff had no room for sympathy tonight.

"No. Get your arse, down stairs. NOW" This was when Stiles realised what his dad was holding. It was the second pregnancy test. The one he hadn't used –yet-.