The Secret Life of the American Teenager: Aftermath

Chapter Sixteen

a/n before the start of the chapter.

First of all, sorry for the week long wait. Usually I update 2-3 times a week so the story is always fresh in your mind. Sorry for the inconvenience!

Just a little recap incase you forgot what was happening- Rick and Amy, back together, she left New York, slept together, starting their relationship fresh, etc.
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"Mommy! I made pictures!"

"Where baby?"

"On the wall in my room!"

"John," I groan, hauling myself off of the couch. "Why did you do that? I really don't want to deal with it right now."

I glance down at myself. I probably look like a wreck. A very pregnant wreck.

In fact, I was eight months now. Which means I'd been home for almost five months. Coming home, was a decision I did not regret.

Ricky and I were taking things slow. Very, very slow. Almost painfully slow. So of course, we hadn't slept together since that night.

We were just now having the occasional peck on the lips. And even though we didn't have a ton of intimate contact, it just made me like him that much more.

I caught up on all the time I'd missed with my boy. He went to half day pre school and then went to the nursery afterwards. I worked there full days now, but my maternity leave would start pretty soon.

My mom was being really really helpful. I felt closer to her than I'd felt in a long time.

But it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows.

My dad was still mad at me. I mean, yeah I was stupid, but he can't just give me the cold shoulder. I don't deserve that.

As soon as Ben heard that I left New York, he left too. But his dad made him go back. He'd gone to the butcher shop and threatened to beat up Ricky.

Ridiculous. I know. I'm just glad Leo made him go back so he's not here to pester me. I had enough to handle right now.

Lauren and Madison had been promising to visit for months now. But they haven't. Every time I ask them, there's always some excuse, always something. I thought they were my best friends.

And the worst part of it all: the whispers. The stares. The things people said when they think I couldn't hear.

Sometimes I could here them whisper "so stupid" or "what a waste of a life" or "her whole life is just garbage. I don't even feel bad for her. She did this to herself."

Then there was one conversation that hurt me the most. I was at the store, just getting a few groceries, and I could hear the girls in the next aisle over.

"Did you hear about Amy Jeurgens?"

"Of course! Everyone has"

"I heard it's not even Ricky's baby. That she doesn't even know the father."

"She's probably a slut. If I was pregnant I don't know what I do."

"I'd probably just like, kill myself or something"

"Yeah"

I couldn't listen to anymore. I left my shopping cart, half full of groceries, in the middle of the bread aisle and walked out.

Now, here I am, more than 8 months pregnant, with my second child, at 18.

When you put it like that, it didn't sound so good.

Also, I felt huge. With John, I'd gained minimal weight. Right now, I was about an extra ten pounds heavier than I was supposed to be, and it showed. Oh well.

I go see the drawing on John's wall. I just leave it. It was with washable marker anyways. I'm too exhausted to do anything about it.

Grace was supposed to be visiting home soon. She said she'd stop over later tonight to watch a movie or something.

So I made dinner (Chicken tenders and Mac n' Cheese, very classy) and John and I sat down for dinner. His chubby little face was too adorable for me to even handle.

Just as I was watching the dishes and cleaning up, someone knocked.

"I'll get it," John says. Usually I would protest, the whole "don't talk to strangers thing" but I just let it go.

"Hi!" I hear Grace's voice say. "Can I see your mommy?"

"Grace! Just come in!"

Then, she walks in, as stunning as ever. Make up all done, pretty blonde hair in loose curls. She was so tiny and petite. I crossed my arms self-consciously over my chest.

Her mouth parts in surprise just a little bit.

"Wow Amy! You've gotten so big! I mean, like, in a good way, like you're pregnant, I'm so happy for you!"

I chuckle a little. Just then, I feel a kick. I'd been feeling them a lot lately.

"The baby just kicked," I tell her, a smile playing over my lips. "You can feel if you want."

Grace walked toward me and hesitantly hovered her hand over my stomach. I guided her to the point where I was feeling kicking and she laid it there. Then, there was kick and a grin limit up Grace's features.

"Wow," she said breathlessly. "That's amazing."

"I know"

"Do you know if it's a girl or boy?"

"We kept it a surprise"

"Mommy," a voice calls out from behind Grace. She moves out of the way to reveal John. "Who is this?"

He looks confused. Like there was some distant memory of her that he couldn't quite grasp.

"This is Grace." She gives a little wave.

"Oh," is all he says.

"John why don't you play with your toys in the living room?"

"Okay!" He exclaims enthusiastically. We follow him there and sit on the couch.

We just catch up an laugh and talk about school and old friends and our parents and the baby. We never let the talk get too serious, just light topics.

I have a contraction. A really minor one. I hardly think anything of it and Grace doesn't even notice. I get them every once in a while.

But then another one comes, and another, each one a little stronger than the last. Finally, Grace catches me wincing and breathing heavily.

"Hey, Amy, is something wrong?"

"Yeah, I think," I'm interrupted by another contraction. "That the baby's coming.