AN: Hi again. I really missed you guys from Worth more than a Bad Reputation. So if guys are still out there, enjoy.
I don't own anything.
Chapter 1 Feeling Sick
The months passed quickly in my perfect happiness with Jacob. Our midterms went smoothly and it was coming up to the end of the school year. May had always been my favorite month. By then the spring fashions have been established and the weather was usually accommodating.
A little after the Junior Prom my mother started missing days of work. She said there was a stomach virus going around and she must've caught it from one of her patients. She had been "puking her guts out." In the past every time my mom was sick I have caught it. No matter how far I stayed away from her. Her germs would seek me out. So needless to say I've started feeling a bit queasy.
"Mr. Varner I'm really not feeling well. May I please go to the nurse?" I asked.
"Take the pass," he ordered and dismissed me continuing on with his math lesson.
As I approached the nurse's office, I felt the inevitable chunks rise up my esophagus and I changed course for the student restroom. The breakfast I partially digested dropped into the toilet violently. Sweat dripped down my face as my stomach compressed once again for another expulsion of vomit.
"Are you okay?" a familiar voice called out.
I collapsed to the filthy tiled floor. "No. I think I'm seriously sick." I turned to peek at my fellow student. It was Alice from PE.
"Do you want some help getting to Nurse Hammond?"
She forced her small body into the stall with me. She pulled out a wad of toilet paper from the roll and handed it to me. I wiped my mouth and imagined how awful my face must've looked.
I was lying in bed practically incapacitated for the rest of the day. My mother apologized for not being able to properly care for me in my ailing state. We both knew if she would smell even the smallest amount of vomit it would bring up her food as well.
My friends and Jacob visited me when school was done. Angela had my homework from each class.
"You better hurry up and get well. Finals are starting soon."
"Why do you feel the need to worry her like that? Bella you just relax and get well," Jacob commented. "I can't kiss you like this."
"Ugh, Volcano. We're in the room!" Asia stated.
How about you all leave," my mother uttered from the doorway. "Bella's very sick and needs to rest."
They all mumbled their disapproval of the idea, but still listened. I had to admit my mother was right. All the heaving and lurching my stomach was doing was making me exhausted.
The next morning my mom headed for the doctor. I would have gone too, but I couldn't get out of bed. When she came back, she was in better spirits. The doctor must have given her something to make her feel better. It was three in the afternoon and I finally made it out of bed for some breakfast. I was eating some dry toast and warm tea. That was the only thing that seemed to stay down at the time. My mom came to sit beside me.
"Sweetie, you know how I've been rather ill lately?" she spoke softly.
"Yes mom. I've been feeling sick too," I reminded her unnecessarily.
"Right, well it turns out I'm pregnant."
"What?" my jaw dropped.
"Honey, you're going to have a sibling. Isn't that great?" she said excitedly.
I was in shock. "Yay." I spoke with little emotion. I was confused. If my mother didn't give me a stomach virus, then why the heck was I sick?
"Bella it isn't Armageddon. This is a good thing."
"No . . . yeah. It is great mom, a new baby in the house. Wonderful."
Shit. No one else was sick. Suddenly the toast and tea were not sitting comfortably in my abdomen. "Excuse me." I ran to the nearest toilet and wretched out my T 'n T. I rinsed my face and headed upstairs. I pulled out my calendar to see when my last period had made its appearance. I counted out the days and then recounted them to be sure. I was late. Very late. Shit. I had to tell Jacob.
My thoughts stampeded through my mind. We were so careful. I can't be pregnant. I am only 17. I'm still a kid technically. And Jacob . . .
This was not going to be good. This topic had come up once. He said, "I wouldn't want to bear it at all." What was he going to do — what were we going to do? The idea of one baby crying around here was bad enough, but two? And the spare will happen to be mine!
I was completely terrified.
The next day I knew I should have already called him, but I was stalling. I texted him a message to come over after school.
When he arrived, I was crawling back to my room after my latest gagging. He noticed me as he climbed the steps. I froze in my positioning.
"Aw, look at you! You look awful," he claimed. He helped me stand up and walk into my bedroom. He sat me carefully onto the bed and then joined me. I took a sip of my stale water. My throat felt like it was on fire from all the vomiting I was doing. My face was still wet from the rinse and I had no make-up on. I was wearing sweats too. The looseness eased some of the stomach pain I was having. My appearance was making me have second thoughts about telling him, but I knew he needed to know.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
I didn't know what to say. Conflicted, scared, worried I'm going to look like a fat pig—were all valid answers only he wouldn't understand why. So, I went with the strongest feeling. "Nauseous."
He gave a sympathetic sigh. "You want me to get anything for you? I'd kiss you, but you might be contagious," he uttered.
"Oh I'm not contagious, but this seems to be an epidemic in my house."
"Yeah," he snickered inappropriately, "because you're mom has it too."
"My mom is pregnant," I blurted.
"Oh really," he voiced with surprise. He smiled. "I guess I should congratulate her."
I paused for a short beat and revealed my secret. "I think I'm pregnant too."
His carefree smile completely slipped off his face. "What?"
"Um . . . you know — about to have a baby."
"I have to go." He suddenly got up and made for the stairs.
"Ja—" I got up quickly after him and learned that was a mistake. My hand reflexively went to my mouth to hold back the chunks rising in my throat. I changed course and headed to the bathroom. I emptied what was left in my stomach and probably a few inches of small intestine. The gut wrenching left me completely worn out and I placed my face down onto the cold tiled floor with my eyes closed.
As I panted, my thoughts circled around Jacob's hasty departure. He was absolutely freaked out. I was freaked out, but he didn't have to leave.
I called him once I was able to move again. It rang repeatedly then went to voicemail. I texted him—no response. I wanted to be understanding; maybe he needed a day to let it settle. But so far, this is not good.