What Hurts The Most [Austin Mahone Fan Fiction]

What Hurts The Most: Number 13

What Hurts The Most: Number 13

Two Months Later

            I flushed the toilet, putting the lid down and went to brush my teeth. I’ve been throwing up for a whole now. When I found I was pregnant, I was three weeks along, and yesterday I turned three months.

            “Claire!” Robert yelled, “Mom and dad wanted to remind you, again, that they won’t be back ‘till like another three months.” He knocked on the door, and slightly opened it.

            “Morning sickness sucks ass,” I mumbled as I was brushing my teeth.

            Robert didn’t say anything for a while; he just looked at me, with a bit of sympathy in them. “At least I don’t have to deal with that!”

            I rolled my eyes and spit out toothpaste and wiping off my face with my hand. “Yeah, you don’t have to deal with that but you’re gonna have to deal with this.” I smirked, kneeing him in his private place.

            He moaned, his hands immediately going down and he ended up kneeling on the floor.

            I walked over him and headed towards my room. I had a doctors appointment today at three in the afternoon but I still had to get ready, since after my appointment Saint has a doctors appointment as well.

            After being in my room for half an hour, I decided to clean it up despite my laziness.

            “Claire,” Logan moaned entering my room, “I’m hungry.” He whined and sat on my bed.

            “Okay, c’mon buddy, let’s go make your tummy full.” I tickled his stomach and laughed when he tried smacking my hands away.

            Logan and I were giggling all the way until we entered the kitchen and we both stopped.

            “Hey, do you know where Zach is,” Reagan sighed, giving me and Logan a look.

            “No,” I snapped back, crossing my arms.

            Reagan let out another sigh, “He was supposed to meet me this morning so we could go to the mall and go on our date.”

            My heart ached a little; Zach and I broke up two weeks ago, he was having friends with benefits with another girl, and shocker, that girl was Reagan.

            “Oh,” is all I said.

            Reagan examined me, looking at my three-month-baby-stomach and stared at it for a while. She then looked at Logan and made a little face; small for Logan not to notice, but noticeable for me.

            “What?” I shot at her, still looking at Logan.

            “What’s wrong with his face?” she pointed at Logan.

            Robert was coming down the stairs when I pushed Reagan into the fridge.

            “That’s me saying what’s wrong with your brain, but you don’t see me saying that.” I slapped her, my nails slightly digging into her skin.

            She screamed on top of her lungs, and slapped me too.

            She was not going to humiliate my little brother with down syndrome. My first connected to her jaw making her scream even louder. I was about to throw another punch, a pair of arms wrapped around my baby stomach and pulled me back. Butterflies were going crazy right now, which meant Austin was here.