Hey babes! Finally here with the chapter I'm sure many of you have been waiting for. I won't say much because the chapter speaks for itself.
Enjoy!
*October 24, 2020*
Setting her pencil on her desk, Clarke leans back in her chair and lets out a heavy breath as she tilts her head back to stare up at the ceiling. On any normal day, she enjoys studying and going over whatever work she needs to for her classes, and never runs into any serious problems. But the last few days she's felt nothing but tired, bordering on sheer exhaustion, which is fairly unusual for her. She always makes sure to get the right amount of sleep during the school week, tending to stay up a little later or sleep in for an extra hour or two on the weekends. But she's never been as tired as she's been over the last week.
She'd thought she was going to be okay when the cramping she'd been feeling finally subsided, but unfortunately, for whatever terrible reason, her boobs began hurting about the same time and haven't let up. She could barely put a bra on yesterday without wincing at how tender they are. Which is not cool at all.
Letting out another heavy breath, realizing that she's starting to lose focus because she's getting tired again, she stands and makes her way to the bathroom to splash some cold water on her face. Maybe she just needs a little shock to the system to get her mind refocused.
Stepping inside the bathroom, Clarke stops in front of the sink and takes a moment to scrutinize her reflection. She looks more drained than usual, and she feels it too. She just wants whatever's happening to be over so she can feel like herself again. She hates getting sick.
Leaning down closer to the sink, she turns the faucet on and lets it run for a few seconds before cupping her hands and filling them. She leans down close enough so she won't get water everywhere and carefully tosses the water onto her face, her eyes closed. She stays there for a moment with water droplets falling from her cheeks and into the sink, breathing deeply.
When she's finished, she grabs the hand towel off its hook and pats her face dry, feeling a little more awake than she was a few minutes ago. But not by much.
As she's turning to leave, something catches her attention out of the corner of her eye. She barely has to see the colors of the packaging before her stomach sinks. She slowly turns toward the offending product sitting on the little shelf next to the toilet; her unopened box of tampons.
She immediately thinks back over the last few weeks—she's always had a pretty regular cycle that shows up when it's supposed to—and does the math in her head. Her eyes go wide when the dots all connect to one simple conclusion.
"No no no no…" She shakes her head as she backs up until she hits the shower door. "No." She swallows thickly and then turns to rush back into her bedroom.
She hurries to her closet and digs around for some slightly more appropriate clothes to wear out in public than her pajamas; a pair of blue jeans and one of Bellamy's old t-shirts that she stole from him maybe a year or two ago. Tears sting at her eyes just thinking about how Bellamy's going to react to all of this if it's true. She prays that it's not. And she realizes quickly that logically Bellamy's reaction isn't the one she should be worrying the most about.
She wipes at her eyes with her fingers and her palms, preventing the tears from falling, and steps away from her closet. Slipping on her closest pair of flats, she grabs her wallet and keys off her desk, unplugs her phone from its charger, and then makes her way downstairs, heading straight for the front door with only one thought in mind.
"Clarke?"
Spinning around, Clarke flashes her stepdad a smile, hoping he can't see how strained it is. "Hey, Marcus."
"Hi. Are you going somewhere?"
She shifts a little on her feet, eager to just get out of there. "Uh, yeah. I just need to run down to the mini-mart real fast to grab a few things. I shouldn't be gone too long."
Marcus nods. "Okay. Do you need a ride? I don't mind driving you. I should probably take a break anyway."
"No," she says quickly, and then closes her eyes, mentally chastising herself for being so abrupt. Marcus is just offering help. He doesn't know what's going on. He doesn't know what's going through her mind. She opens her eyes and looks up at him. "I mean, uh, no, thanks. It's not that far, I'll just walk. I could use the fresh air."
"Alright. Just let me know when you get there or if you need me to come and pick you up when you're done."
"I will. Bye."
Turning away from him, Clarke pulls the door open and steps outside, closing the door quickly and leaning back against it. She closes her eyes and takes a few deep breaths to try and keep herself calm. This whole thing could just be a fluke, it could be absolutely nothing at all. She could just be late. But she's never late.
After her racing heart has slowed down some, she pushes off the door and begins her walk to the mini-mart, thankful for one of the rare, warmer October days. She forces herself not to cry the whole way there. It's possible that everything is perfectly fine and she's not actually...that. She could just be overthinking things because she's tired. That's definitely a possibility.
When she finally reaches the convenience store, she shoots Marcus a quick text letting him know she's safe and then walks through the swinging front door. The little bell hanging above her chimes.
"Hello," the woman behind the counter greets her with a small smile. "Let me know if I can help you find anything."
Clarke smiles politely. "I will, thanks."
She slowly makes her way down random aisles, trying to put off going down that particular aisle for as long as possible. She knows she'll have to eventually, but just the thought of it makes her stomach churn.
She veers toward the fridges at the back of the shop first, grabbing a bottle of water and holding it close. The coolness of the bottle against her warm skin helps immensely.
Realizing she can't put the inevitable off for much longer, she turns down the hygiene aisle, glancing at each of the products on the shelves, a few of which she's used before. But she doesn't need any of them this time around, she's looking for one product in particular, one that she never thought she'd be using at this point in her life.
When she finally finds it, she stops walking and just stares at the product that's mocking her. The tears build again and she pushes them back. She can't lose herself right now, not in the middle of a mini-mart of all places.
Bringing herself back to the present, she grabs two different boxes off the shelf and scans over the words on the packaging, trying to figure out which one is going to be best. But she's at a complete loss. She doesn't know what she's doing.
"Pick the one on the left."
She turns just enough to see a woman who looks to be in her 30s standing near her. She's carrying a small basket with a few different items in it, and sporting a soft, sympathetic smile.
"What?" Clarke responds, her brows furrowing slightly and her heart starting to race again.
"The box in your left hand," the woman repeats, gesturing toward the intended box. "It's the most accurate of the two. I've used it myself the last couple of times. It's the best one they've got here."
Clarke swallows thickly. "Oh. Okay." She holds onto the purple and yellow box and sets the other one back on the shelf. "Uh, thanks." She flashes the woman an awkward smile and then moves toward the front counter. She grabs a package of disposable razors and a bag of chips on her way, setting everything down on the counter and waiting semi-patiently to be done.
She quickly pays, thanking the cashier, and then grabs her bag of items off the counter. "Um...can I use your restroom?"
The woman smiles softly. "Of course. It's right back there." She points to the back corner of the store where a bathroom sign hangs down from the ceiling.
"Thank you."
When she steps inside the singular bathroom she shuts the door and locks it, setting the plastic bag on the small counter next to the sink. She pulls the bottle of water out and sets it down, followed by the box of pregnancy tests.
Taking her time, she carefully reads over the instructions on the back of the box, wanting—needing—to do this right. She can't mess this up. She needs to know for sure. She knows she wouldn't be able to handle having to buy another box because she completely messed things up the first time around.
She quickly downs half the water bottle and then takes the tests just like the box instructs. Once done, she washes her hands and pulls her phone out to set a timer.
While the timer is running, she paces back and forth within the small confines of the convenience store bathroom, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth and trying to think about anything else. Because she doesn't want to think about what the results of the test will be and what they might mean for her. But it's the only thought that keeps coming back into her head. She can't focus on anything else, no matter how hard she tries.
After what seems like an eternity, the timer on her phone goes off and she quickly turns to face the counter but doesn't move toward it. She can't. She physically cannot move.
Slowly, after some hesitation and internal debate, Clarke steps closer to the counter and flips each test over with a shaky hand. She looks at them carefully, the digital answer clear as day on each one.
Pregnant.
Her vision blurs in an instant, a choked sob forcing its way up as she sinks to her knees against the grimy tiled floor of the bathroom. Her hand comes up to cover her mouth as her body shakes from the onslaught of tears, hoping that if there's anyone nearby on the other side of the door they won't hear her crying over the fact that her life just got flipped on its head.
After what feels like forever but is only a few minutes, her crying subsides and she stands on unsteady legs. She wraps the tests in toilet paper and shoves all but one of them to the bottom of the trashcan, followed by the small cardboard they were housed in. She slides the remaining test into her back pocket and then shoves the half-empty water bottle back into the bag.
She takes an extra moment to gather herself together, taking a few slow deep breaths, and then steps out of the bathroom.
As she's making her way toward the doors of the mini-mart, the cashier calls out to her.
She turns slightly, swallowing. "Yeah?"
"The woman that was just in here, she said she wants you to have these." The cashier holds out a small bottle of ginger ale and a package of saltines. "She said something about saltines and ginger ale becoming your best friend when the morning sickness hits."
Clarke blinks. "Oh." She reaches toward her pocket for her wallet. "Um, how much is—"
"She already paid for them."
"Okay." She takes the items and slips them into her bag. "But, uh, how did she…"
"She said she heard you crying in the bathroom, and well, she put the pieces together. She also told me to tell you good luck, with whatever you decide to do."
"Oh. Okay." She throws the woman a kind smile before turning and stepping through the door and back into the crisp autumn air. The temperature's gone down some since she arrived, but not enough for her to need a jacket.
She pulls her phone out to send a text to her stepdad as she walks, letting him know she's leaving the store and will be home soon.
After a moment of more internal debate, she quickly types out another text, this time to her boyfriend.
Hey, I know it's sort of last minute. But can I come over tonight? I really need to talk to you.
Sure. Six?
Six works.
Cool.
.
.
.
Clarke's been a mess since taking the test at the convenience store, unable to stop thinking about how her conversation with Finn is going to play out. She doesn't want to trap him or force him to stay and doesn't want him to feel that she's doing so. She hopes that he'll support whatever decision she makes. That he'll stick around no matter what.
She'd psyched herself up as much as she could on the way to his place, going over and over in her head exactly what she was going to say to him to break the news. There was a small part of her that had contemplated buying some small gift or something, to commemorate the moment, but this situation wasn't exactly planned, and she's not sure how he'd feel about that kind of present.
But now, sitting in Finn's trailer—he lives in a trailer in his parents' driveway because he doesn't like 'living under their roof and by their rules' anymore—she's terrified. Everything that she'd planned on saying to him had completely left her mind the moment she stepped up into his trailer. So they've just been sitting quietly the whole time, neither of them saying anything and Finn on his phone avoiding looking at her.
"Finn?" she eventually speaks up, trying to gain his attention. She just needs to do this, needs to find the right words to get it over with.
His eyes never leave the screen of his phone. "Yeah?"
"I uh, I need to tell you something."
"That's why you came over here, right?" He looks up at her. "I've been waiting for you to say something but you haven't. Did you forget on the way over? Because if you did then it's probably not that important." He looks back down at his phone and continues typing.
Clarke lets out a heavy breath, realizing there's only one way she's going to be able to do this without feeling like she's going to stumble over her words. She stands to pull the pregnancy test out of her back pocket and tosses it to him, the small stick landing right in his lap.
Finn's movements freeze and he slowly looks down at the object. His eyes go wide. "What is that?"
Clarke can't help but roll her eyes. "What do you think it is, Finn? It's a pregnancy test. My pregnancy test. And you're the father."
Finn swallows thickly. "Um...how...when…?"
She shrugs. "Josephine's party, I'm guessing. Since that's the last time we had sex and I didn't start having what I now suspect to be symptoms until after the party."
He nods slowly, setting his phone aside and standing up, his eyes fixed on the test as it slides onto the carpeted floor with a quiet thud. "Does anyone else know?"
She shakes her head. "You're the first one I've told. I just took the test today but haven't found the nerve to tell anyone else yet."
"Okay. So when are you going to do it?"
Her brows furrow together tightly in confusion. "What are you talking about?"
He looks up at her then. "When are you going to get rid of it?"
"Get rid of—" Clarke's eyes go wide and her heart sinks. "You want me to get an abortion?" Her hands subconsciously fly to her still-flat stomach, pressing gently as if to protect it.
He takes a small step forward, nodding. "It's for the best, Clarke. You know that."
Her eyes start to sting as she shakes her head, taking a step away from him.
"Look, we both know it's the best way to go about this. Do you really want to walk around your school while pregnant? Do you know what kinds of looks you're going to get from everyone else? And people are going to be talking about you behind your back constantly. And making fun of you. Your life at school will be hell if you go through with this."
She shakes her head, swallowing. "You don't know if it'll be like that."
"Does it matter? Deep down you know this is the best option." He reaches out to grab her hands in his, holding them tightly. "We can go tomorrow and start the process. No one ever has to know about it, not even your parents. Once it's done we can go back to the way things were."
"But things won't be the same, Finn," she says, her voice rising slightly and her eyes narrowing. She yanks her hands roughly out of his. "If I decided to do what you're suggesting, I'd still know what I did. I'd still remember it, and I'd have to live every day with that knowledge."
Finn groans. "You're being ridiculous, Clarke. You're going to get rid of that thing. I know you will."
She stands up a little taller. "And what if I won't?"
"Then we're done," he says without hesitation. "I love you, Clarke, but we both know that it's not a good idea to go through with this."
She shakes her head. "No. You're the one who thinks it's not a good idea and is going to try and pretend it never happened." She bends down to pick the pregnancy test up off the floor, holding it up so he can see it. "But do you see this? This is proof that it did happen, that we made a life together. And whether or not you want to be involved, I don't care anymore. Because I can't be with someone who thinks it's okay to tell me what to do with my own body."
Finn opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted by a quick knock at the door. It swings open a second later and a beautiful brunette Clarke's never seen before steps up inside with a small, hesitant smile.
"Hey, I heard shouting. What's going on?"
Finn's eyes are comically wide. "Raven. What are you doing here?"
"I came by to see you. I know you like me to let you know first, but I missed you and wanted to surprise you. I didn't realize you had company."
Finn crosses to the door, trying to gently push the girl—Raven—out of the trailer. "Which is why I like for you to let me know first that you're coming over. Just wait outside for a few more minutes, please."
Clarke can tell the exact moment that Raven clocks the pregnancy test she's still holding in the air. The other girl's face drops and she continues to stare.
"Finn, what the hell is going on here?" Raven asks, her eyes darting over to the boy in question. "Why is that girl holding a pregnancy test?"
"I promise I'll explain everything later," Finn says in an almost panicked tone. "But please wait outside."
Clarke shakes her head. "No. It's fine, Finn. I'm his girlfriend," she explains to the brunette watching her. "Well, ex-girlfriend now."
Raven's eyes go wide. "What?"
"I'm his ex-girlfriend," Clarke repeats. "Are you a friend of his?"
The girl's eyes narrow as she looks at Finn. "No. As of this moment, I'm also his ex-girlfriend."
Clarke's stomach sinks as the floor falls out from underneath her. No. This can't be true. This can't be happening. This can't be true.
She looks at Finn with tear-filled eyes. "Please," she whispers. "Please tell me it's not true."
He takes a step toward her. "Clarke…"
Before she can even think about it, the palm of her hand is connecting loudly with his cheek. "You asshole," she manages to get out through gritted teeth. "Stay away from me. I don't ever want to see you again."
She drops the pregnancy test back on the floor as she storms past Finn and Raven, pushing open the door of the trailer and stepping outside. She lets the door slam closed behind her, the tears in her eyes building harder against the slowly rising voices coming from inside the trailer. She doesn't even want to think about that right now. She just wants to go home.
.
.
.
Walking through the streets of her neighborhood, the darkness of night surrounding her, Clarke finally lets the tears she'd been holding in for so long roll down her face. Everything hits her all at once like a ton of bricks. She just lets it go, lets every thought flood into her mind while she cries.
She's going to be a mom. She just broke up with her boyfriend. She just left the father of her baby. She's going to be a mom. Her mom is probably going to ground her for life (if she even cares). She's going to be a mom. How can she possibly be a mom at her age? She's still practically a kid herself. How can she have one of her own? Is she making the right decision?
She's startled out of her thoughts by something wet landing on her arm, multiple times. Focusing her gaze, she finds water droplets landing on the pavement all around her. Tilting her head back, drop after drop falls on her face, mixing with her salty tears.
Regretting not bringing a jacket with her, Clarke hugs her arms around herself and keeps walking. She doesn't even think about where she's going, just lets her feet carry her along down the sidewalk.
Minutes later, she stops walking when her feet begin to ache and looks around trying to find somewhere with cover. Just somewhere she can get out of the rain for a bit while she figures out what to do next. That's when she spots the familiar house sitting in front of her. Of course, her feet would bring her here of all places.
Stepping up onto the front porch, she pulls her phone out and wipes the water off the screen as best she can. She unlocks it and goes into her contact list, hitting the first number in her favorites list and holding the device to her ear.
"Hello?" the groggy voice on the other end of the line answers.
She sniffles a few times. "Bellamy? Can you come downstairs?"
"Clarke? What...where are you?"
"I'm at your house but I don't have my key. Can you come and let me in? I…I really need you right now."
"I'll be right down."
The call disconnects and Clarke pulls the phone away from her ear and slides it back into her pocket. She rocks back on her heels as she waits, the tears finally starting to subside.
Seconds later, the front door swings open to reveal Bellamy standing on the other side, dressed in a pair of black sweatpants and a gray Henley. Before he can even get a single word out, Clarke launches herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and burying her face into his shirt. More tears fall at being in her best friend's presence.
"You're soaked."
Even though she's crying, she can't help the quick laugh that escapes. "It's raining, genius."
"I can see that," Bellamy replies, his arms wrapping around her. "Let's get you inside."
Clarke lets him guide her into the house, and she steps out of his embrace to head for the staircase that leads up to his room. She doesn't look to see if he's following her, she knows he is. She steps into his bedroom as soon as she reaches it, stopping in the middle of the room and staring down at the slowly darkening carpet beneath her feet.
It's only at that moment that she realizes how cold she is, a few shivers running down her spine.
There's a muted padding of feet on the carpet and then a soft click as the door is closed. The silence stretches on for several long minutes, both of them remaining still.
"Clarke…"
Fresh tears slip down her cheeks at the soft way he says her name, her knees buckling.
Before she has a chance to fall, Bellamy's arms wrap around her and pull her back against his chest, his head resting next to hers.
"Finn and I broke up," she chokes out.
"Well he's an idiot," Bellamy says quietly in her ear. He carefully turns her around and looks into her eyes. "Any guy who lets you go is an absolute idiot."
She takes a shaky breath. "He...he had another girlfriend."
Bellamy's jaw tightens. "What?"
"But...but that's not why he broke up with me. He, um…" She swallows thickly. "I'm pregnant."
Bellamy's arms stiffen m. "You're what?"
A sob escapes her. "I'm pregnant, Bellamy. And...and I don't know what to do."
He pulls her close again and rubs a hand up and down her back. "Okay, hang on. First things first, let's get you out of these clothes and into something warmer. We don't need you catching a cold or anything. Especially now." He unwraps his arms from around her and moves to his dresser, digging around inside.
While he's doing that, Clarke strips out of her pants and shirt and tosses them to the side, leaving her in just her underwear and sports bra. Normally she might not do this around Bellamy, but right now she doesn't care. She just wants to be out of those clothes.
"Here we go," Bellamy says, turning around and holding up a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts. "You can…"
Her brows furrow together tightly when Bellamy freezes in his spot, staring at her with wide eyes. She knows he hasn't seen her like this since they were kids, when she wasn't as developed as she is now. But still.
"Bellamy?" She waves a hand in front of his face to get his attention. "Earth to Bellamy."
He shakes his head and swallows thickly. "Huh?"
"Can I…?" she gestures to the clothes he's still holding.
He looks down at them and then steps forward. "Oh, right. Sorry."
She takes the clothes from him, easily slipping into them and taking a deep breath. The shirt smells like Bellamy, even though it's probably been washed recently. And they're warm, helping to relieve the shiver from earlier.
As soon as she's dressed, she sits on the edge of Bellamy's bed, pulling her legs up underneath her body. She continues to stare down at the carpet, finally out of tears. At least, she hopes she is.
The bed dips next to her as Bellamy sits. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She looks up at him. "Can we talk in the morning? I think I just want to go home and sleep."
He shakes his head as he stands. "Nope. You're staying here. You take the bed, I'll grab an extra pillow and blanket and take the floor."
She sighs. "Bellamy…"
"Clarke. It's still pouring outside. You're just going to get soaked again. It's not like you haven't stayed over on short notice before. Just lie down and get some rest, we can talk in the morning. I'll let Marcus know you're staying over."
She smiles. "Thank you."
He smiles back. "Anytime. You know that."
She waits until Bellamy leaves the room and then crawls up the bed to slide underneath the covers. It's certainly not her first time sleeping in his bed, given that he's always a gentleman whenever she crashes at his place and takes the floor to give her his bed. Unless Octavia begs for the two of them to have their own little sleepover, then she'll sleep on the younger girl's bedroom floor.
Letting out a heavy breath, Clarke relaxes against the pillow, pulling the heavy comforter up over her chest. It doesn't take long for her eyelids to grow heavy. The last thing she's aware of before she succumbs to sleep is Bellamy's lips pressing gently against her forehead.
So? What did you think? Let me know in a review down below. I'd love to hear your thoughts.
Until next time,
Jellybean96 out!