Trigger Warning

Chapter One: Clarissa's POV

Emmett, Stasia, and I all scurried into the kitchen, as Monica had requested.

Monica was short and skinny, with jet black hair that framed her round face. Her eyes showed her age; and so did her mom-like haircut.

Monica's parents moved to America from Thailand when Monica was thirteen, so she spoke with a slight accent, but it wasn't anything terribly noticeable.

"Hello kids!" Monica greeted as we entered into the kitchen. Stasia and I sat down on the barstools at the counter, and Emmett awkwardly stood behind Stasia, constantly fidgeting.

"Hey Monica!" Emmett replied, slightly uncomfortably. He spoke too quickly and a few octaves higher than necessary; he was obviously anxious. Monica arched her eyebrows, but only momentarily. Soon she turned back around to start unloading her groceries again.

"How've you kids been?" Monica asked. Stasia looked down at her hands for a moment and then sat them in her lap.

"I guess we've been good, mom," Stasia replied. Monica nodded.

"Why you only guess, Anastasia?" Monica asked, her back still turned to us.

I felt Stasia's eyes burning a hole in the side of my face, but I refused to look at her. I don't know how to help!

"I have some," Stasia's voice cracked, and she started fidgeting. Emmett was standing behind her, his forehead being dotted with little beads of sweat. I took in a deep breath, and finally returned Stasia's gaze.

Do it. Quick and easy. I mouthed. Stasia shut her eyes tightly, and then nodded.

"I have something I need to tell you," Stasia admitted. She reached over into my lap and squeezed my hand. I squeezed back.

"What is it, Ana?" Monica inquired, this time turning around to face us.

Anastasia began to cry, silently. Her mom walked around the counter and lightly pushed Emmett out of the way so she could hug Anastasia.

"I'm so sorry," Stasia said, this time her voice choked with sobs. "I didn't know it could happen,"

Monica pulled Stasia back to arms length, and looked at her quizzically.

"Anastasia, are you addicted to the pot?"

We all sat there quietly for a moment to take in what Monica just asked. Then, of course, I was the first to laugh, and soon Emmett, then finally Stasia let out a chuckle.

Monica just stared, obviously upset.

After the three of us settled down, Anastasia began shaking her head, getting upset again. Her mascara was in little gray streaks down her face, and had matted some of her hair down to her cheeks.

"Are you going to be mad, mom?" Stasia asked. Monica just shut her eyes.

"Anastasia, I won't be mad. I may be disappointed, but never ever will I be mad at you for making a mistake. Please, honey, just tell me what is going on."

Anastasia reached over and grabbed Emmett's hand, and Emmett squeezed her hand, so small and dainty compared to his. Emmett picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips, and sat them back into his lap.

"I'm pregnant, mom." Stasia said. She looked over at Emmett, and he put on his best pretend-surprised face. "Emmett, I'm pregnant."

"I heard," Emmett muttered.

"I felt it was only appropriate to tell you individually," Stasia admitted. She grinned over to me, and then looked up at her mother.

Monica had a smile on her face, and then squeezed her eyes shut.

"Mom?" Stasia asked. Monica backed away, and Stasia hopped off of the barstool. Monica sat down at the kitchen table, and began to weep.

Soon after Monica began to cry, I had Emmett take me home, because Stasia admitted she wanted alone time with her mom.