Trigger Warning

Chapter one: Emmett's POV

Stasia and Clarissa were sitting at the familiar round table at which we always sit. Stasia sits in the middle; Clarissa to her left, myself to her right.

Today, Stasia was wearing a green sweater, black leggings, and her favorite black combat boots. I love it when she wears green; it makes her beautiful hazel eyes pop.

Stasia always wore her jet-black waterfall of hair down, and stick straight. She rarely wears makeup, either.

Stasia is beautiful... So very beautiful.

"Emmett!" Clarissa called as she saw me making my way to our table. I raised my hand in a wave. At that moment, Stasia turned and shot a look at me, piercing me with her beautiful eyes. Her lips stretched into a warm smile, and she stood up to hug me.

"I have missed you," I whispered to her. She was rather short, only reaching my chest, so it was like I was speaking to the top of her head.

We sat down, holding hands, and she just seemed to smile the whole time.

"Okay, Stasia, you can stop with the whole 'in love' bullshit, now," Clarissa joked. We al three laughed and I noticed Clarissa nudged Stasia with her knee.

"Not now," Stasia muttered under her breath, obviously trying to hide something from me. Clarissa nodded, and when Stasia looked back up to me, she had lost all color in her face. A few awkward moments of silence passed, when finally, Stasia stood up.

"I need more jell-o," She admitted, and then she was gone, across the cafeteria looking for her gelatinous dessert.

"What is going on with Anastasia?" I asked. Clarissa nervously toyed with her spaghetti noodles for a moment, when finally she hastily threw her fork down.

"Can you keep a secret?" She asked. I nodded, sort of stunned.

"Well, I mean, obviously you two are keeping one so,"

"Stasia is pregnant," Clarissa whispered. She said it so quickly, it took me a minute to understand. I looked up and Stasia was standing over us.

DON'T FUCKING SAY ANYTHING Clarissa mouthed. ANYTHING.

My mind raced with a million thoughts, all of these ideas revolving around Anastasia.

When school was over for the day, Clarissa and Stasia decided that we all three should go hang out at Anastasia's house. I agreed, primarily because I had no other option.

"You know, all three of us spend a lot of time together," I admitted. I was driving, and Stasia was in the passenger seat, Clarissa in the backseat, leaned forward enough to where her head was even with mine and Stasia's, though.

"Well, Mr. Emmett," Clarissa began, "we are best friends. That is kind of what we do."

Anastasia laughed, and started drumming her fingers on her knee, a nevous tick she had developed as a child.

"Friends?" I asked, jokingly. I raised my eyebrows at Clarissa, and she jokingly pushed my arm.

"Yeah, we're friends, asshole. Have been the entire eight months you and Stasia have been dating."

I looked over at Anastasia, who was totally silent. "You okay, Ana?" I asked. Stasia looked up and I placed my hand on her knee. Stasia looked up at me and nodded, trying to look reassuring. She was doing a horrible job.

We arrived at Anastasia's apartment minutes later, the only thing making the silence between the three of us bearable was Clarissa's radiating joy.

"Why the hell are you so cheerful?" I asked her.

"Why the hell aren't you?" Was all she replied with. I didn't say anything in response.

The three of us piled onto the couch at Stasia's. Stasia lived in a very tiny apartment with her mother, and her dog. Her dog was Banksy, named after the famous street artist. He was aging though, almost seven. He lost his vision and he didn't really like to bark, so he just sadly sat in his bed all day until Stasia or her mother, Monica, picked him up and placed him on their lap.

He was the saddest Yorkie I had ever seen.

"What do you want to do?" Clarissa asked us. She was sitting to the far right of the couch, Indian style, with a throw pillow in her lap. Anastasia was leaned up against me, her legs curled beneath herself. I was awkwardly sitting in the middle, cautious not to move too much to discomfort Ana.

"Television is always an option," Ana piped. I nodded in agreement.

"You two are boring." Clarissa whined.

"And you're kind of a bitch," I stated. Clarissa threw the pillow that was sitting in her lap at me, hitting me in the face. I grabbed the pillow and threw it back, laughing. When Clarissa threw it back, though, she hit Ana instead. Both Clarissa and I silently sat there, waiting for a reaction.

Ana picked the pillow up and threw it back at Clarissa, laughing. "I think you're in love with Emmett," Anastasia teased. Clarissa made a gagging noise, and giggled.

"Yeah, I'm just pretending to be a lesbian," Clarissa fake-admitted. Anastasia smiled at the both of us, and planted a kiss on my cheek.

"Knew it," she said. Clarissa rolled her eyes dramatically and turned on the television. We scrolled through the channels until finally we decided on a rerun of FRIENDS.

"Hey, Clarissa," I began.

"What is it, Emmett?" She asked.

"You're still a bitch."

An episode of FRIENDS and half an episode of Family Guy later, Anastasia's mom arrived home.

"I assume you have friends over, Ana?" Monica called from the kitchen.

"Yeah," Clarissa and I said in unison.

"Nice to see you two," Monica said, peeking her head around the corner. "Nice to see you, too, Anastasia. Come in here and talk to me," Monica said, her voice already disappearing into the kitchen. "Catch me up on stuff."

I heard Stasia sigh, it was nearly inaudible, but I caught it. I glanced over at her.

Everything okay? I mouthed. She shook her head no.

She thought that I didn't know yet.