Not All Fun and Games

Chapter 33

"Please hold back her hair," I tell Octavia, who hovers over Zoe, patting her back as a way of comforting her.
Zoe vomits violently, for the third time, into the poor bush.

After we had all eaten, I had gone to the dropship to see if Alex needed anything. After a few minutes, Octavia had come running in, explaining to me frantically that Zoe was sick and needed my help. I had rushed to her aid, arriving to find the unlucky girl crouched over with a pale, worried face.

"Zoe, is it possible you had too much to eat?" I ask her now.
"I didn't have anything to eat," she replies. "Not since the rabbit today. And I was feeling fine up until a little while ago. My stomach hurts, and so does my head. What could it be, Clarke?"
I search my mind, wondering if she could have caught a disease or an infection. But from what?
When I look back up at her, I see worry and fear on her face. It reminds me of what she looked like this morning, when she found Alex in the woods.
Could she have caught a disease when she was out in the woods?
My mind wanders to another question.
What had she been doing in the woods in the first place?
Zoe throws up again, groaning in disgust at the foul stench and probably the awful taste she must have in her mouth.
"Zoe, when you were out in the woods this morning, did you eat anything?"
Zoe's face seems to somehow pale even more at my question, but she shakes her head.
So she couldn't have accidentally eaten poisonous berries.
"I'm going to get you a painkiller, okay?" I tell her and begin to head towards the dropship.

When I return, Octavia and Zoe are whispering. When they see me, Zoe looks up with a panicked face.
After a silent pause, Octavia nudges the small freckled brunette. "Go on, Zoe. You need to tell her," she prompts.
I just look at Zoe, waiting for her to speak. She has a tear dripping from her  eye, but her face isn't sad. It's worried, if not guilty. She wipes away the tear with the back of her sleeve and takes a deep but sharp breath.
"Clarke, I... I th-think," she begins, stuttering. I nod, waiting in anticipation for her to finish the sentence. Octavia takes her hand, squeezing it, and Zoe closes her eyes.
"I think I'm pregnant."