The Sloan's Daughter

truth; the hardest pill to swallow

Telling Lexie proved to be a lot harder than Clara could have even imagined. She expected yelling, and lectures. Not the pure disappointment she was given. And the almost-tears. As hard as she was trying to hide them, Clara could see the watery shine in her mothers eyes. God, she was so disappointed.

The only thing she said to Clara was, "Does Nick know?", before going quiet. It was a lot to process. And she would definitely be back with more questions, however she needed to think beforehand.

The creek, then slam, and click of the front door snapped the two out of their endless loop of thoughts. Clara, positive she would be kicked out any minute. And Lexie, trying her best to form a coherent thought.

Clara could feel her heart beating in her throat, and hear it in her ears as she watched her father walk in from his long, draining day at work.

"Whoa, who died?" He joked. He had been in there for merely five minutes and he could already feel the the tense air.

"She's pregnant." She wasn't able to properly think through her actions in this state of mind.

"Mom!"

"What? Clara- Clara's- what?" His eyebrows were tightly knit together as he looked at Lexie, then Clara, then Lexie again. His attention was then drawn to the stick being handed to him by his daughter. He stared at it, and two pink lines stared back.

"I'm so, so, so sorry." Her voice cracked.

"Are you serious?" He snapped "You're not stupid, I know you're not, so how did this happen? I thought we taught you better than this. You're not stupid!"

This is what Clara had prepared herself for. She could tell he was disappointed, but at least he didn't look it. His face was red with anger, and he kept pacing. He paced for so long before he began yelling again. "What are you going to do? Where will it stay? How are you going to raise it?! You're seventeen! Could you be more irresponsible!?" He groaned "Is this a cry for attention?"

"No! God, no! I'm not that fucking stupid." She pressed her lips together after Mark gave her a stern look.

"What was it then?"

"An accident! It was an accident, okay? I didn't try to.." She waved her arms around her abdomen. She leaned her elbows on the counter and dropped her head into them. She felt her anger boiling over, and hot tears pooling in her eyes. "I'm sorry." She cried.

Mark exhaled deeply. "Go upstairs while I talk to your mom." He said, motioning toward the stairs behind them.

Clara scurried up them. She didn't want to spend another second in that room, being yelled at by her father. She collapsed in bed and curled into the sheets. She wanted to redo that night, and never have sex with him. None of this seemed worth it. In nine months, she would be caring for a screaming, crying, sticky-fingered baby. She was only seventeen, how did she think she could handle it?

Half an hour later, there was a knock on her door. Judging by the softness, it was Lexie. Mark always had a heavy hand, even if he was happy. It had always scared her and Sam.

"Come in." She mumbled. She was facing away from the door when she walked in.

Lexie sat beside her on her small twin bed. "You can keep the baby's crib and change table in here, since it's a big room. But anything extra, like swings, can go downstairs. And you need to get a job, because part of being a mom is buying the supplies. But that being said, we still will help you. We don't expect you to do it all on your own. And as for school, you will finish this semester. From there you can decide if you want to switch to online."

Without a word, Clara turned over, sat up, and engulfed her in a hug. She didn't realize how badly she had needed one until she felt her mothers warmth. "Is dad still mad?" She asked quietly.

"Well, he's definitely not happy. Neither of us are. We just need time. It's just a lot to process." She sighed. "How are you feeling?" She asked. She had realized she was so focused on herself and her own feelings, she forgot to factor in her daughters.

"I'm okay. Nausea is kicking my ass, though." She chuckled quietly.

"How did it go?" Nick asked as he approached Clara in the halls. She kept walking at a brisk speed. "Clara, how did it go?" He asked again, only to get no response. "Clara-" She grabbed his shirt and pulled him into an empty hallway.

"We don't talk about this in school, okay? I don't need everyone knowing I'm knocked up. Not yet." She whispered aggressively.

"Okay, right. Sorry."

"We'll talk about it after school."

"Can we talk at lunch?"

"No. I'm telling Ellis." She said before walking past him and back into the over-packed hall. She couldn't keep herself from imagining herself walking trough them with a giant belly attached to one side, and a backpack on the other. It sounded horrible.

"I'm in some deep shit." Clara said, looking down at the sub in her lap.

"What'd you do?" asked Ellis as she stuffed her face with fries. The cool autumn air had almost blown her hair into the ketchup multiple times now.

She bit the inside of her cheek, building up the courage to speak. "I'm pregnant." She whispered. She was too afraid to look up, but she knew Ellis's jaw was open, and her eyes were wide.

She finally managed to swallow her bite. "What?" She asked, "Are we....?"

"Happy, I think. Stressed and scared for sure, but I'm getting excited, I guess." She shrugged her shoulders and looked up. She was glad Ellis wasn't upset at her for this.

"How long?"

"Eight-ish weeks. I haven't been to the doctors yet."

"Nick?"

"Yes, it's his. And yes, he knows. He's warming up to the idea. My parents know, too. Honestly, I thought they'd kick me out," She inhaled and exhaled sharply, "Sam doesn't know either. I'm so sick of telling people, I almost told my mom to tell him. But I couldn't. He needs to hear something this huge from me. I don't even want to think of how angry she'll be at Nick."

"Well," She tried thinking of something to ease her situation, "Yeah. It'll suck, no doubt. But I know for a fact you're going to be a great mom."

Clara smiled softly at her. She was so happy to hear those words. She was terrified of everything to come. The rest of the eight months, birth, and especially raising a baby, then child. "Thank you."