Hard Candy [Carl Grimes/The Walking Dead]

Time Running Low, Emotions Flying High

Less than two weeks later, Melly's once-flat stomach is protruding ever so slightly, and it's driven her completely around the bend. Honestly, it's hardly noticeable unless you're standing on her right with your head dipped forward at about a 60° angle.

I told her this, stressing how unnoticeable it was, but it still sends her into hysterics.

So much for being calm, cool and collected. Brought to tears by a miniscule baby bump?

I force myself replay the events leading up to all this in my head whenever I have cynical thoughts like this. Compassion is the key word, Yara. Big picture.

But even Aunt Kizzi takes note of Melly's change in eating habits especially. Melly never was a big eater, but nearly four weeks after I confront her, she's eating everything in sight.

"Slow down, Melly," Kizzi says warily when Melly takes a third, and then fourth helping of canned mashed potatoes one night. "Got to save some for the rest of us."

"I'm just really hungry," Melly mutters, replacing the serving spoon. She glances at me.

"There's like four cans in there," I jump in. "And I can always make more."

"That won't be necessary," Kizzi says. "But are you feeling alright, dear?"

"Fine," Melly says quickly, too quickly, before shoving a huge spoonful of potatoes in her mouth.

After dinner, Melly offers to do the dishes with me, to everyone's quiet surprise. But no one says anything as they go their separate ways.

"I can't do this anymore," Melly whisper-shouts urgently to me once we're alone, even though no one's anywhere near us. "I don't know what I can do, but it can't be this."

"There's nothing you can do," I remind her unhelpfully. "But you're doing fine. You need to eat... Both of you." I cringe at my own words.

"I'm getting fat," She whispers, her voice even lower and even more panicked. "Even my mom has noticed. I can't stop eating! And look!" She gestures down. "My thighs are touching! They never touched before!"

I choke down a horrible giggle that forms inside of me, who has always had thighs that chafe when I run. "I... Didn't notice. And no one else has either. You look fine. Better, even," I offer.

Melly glares at me, that old familiar scowl I'd grown used to. Obviously she's not buying it. Maybe I'll just leave it there for now. I hand her a soapy whisk and she dries it silently.

"How long do you think until it really starts to show?" she asks suddenly. She turns to me, her expression unreadable.

I shift uncomfortably. "I don't know. A week, a month? I really can't say. I've never been pregnant before." I regret those last words before they even come out of my mouth.

"Of course you haven't," Melly mutters. "Of course, you don't know!" Her voice rises angrily. She slams a plate down in the sink. "You'll never have to know! You'll never make a stupid mistake like me! Because you're so fucking perfect, so fucking special, you don't know, and you will never have to worry about it."