A little bump and crown

It was true. It was goddamn true. The worst possible news I could have right now was staring me right in the face – big, bold and bright pink. There was no slight blue tinge, nor were the two lines just a play on my imagination and instead were only one. No. There was a mammoth sized alert that I was pregnant right in front of me – and it wasn’t a dream.

Trust me I already tried to wake myself up.

I could say goodbye to the last year of college. I could say goodbye to all the privacy and the shadow I’ve managed to hide behind for the last few years. Soon enough, my protruding and round abdominal will catch the whole world’s attention and my morning-sickness-ridden face will be on the cover of every single tabloid out there. The thought was nauseating. The thought of motherhood made me light-headed.

I wasn’t ready to be a Mum. And I know people say that all the time, but I truly mean it. I couldn’t look after an infant even if I really put my heart into it. I can’t even look after my own nephew for an hour without any incidents involved! Feeding a goldfish? That was the only thing I could stick to when caring for a living organism.

But now? Well, moving to a quaint cottage somewhere close to the palace was definitely on the agenda. The minute I reveal the news to Mum, the building plans will already be shipped off and materials will already be in some architect’s online basket. I would be tied to my family now – by a small, thick-knitted rope- and I wouldn’t ever get my freedom back.

I felt my throat clog up at the thought. Jesus. I’d be forced into seeing Cassandra and Mark Lauder every day – my parents – and the pricks that were my brothers; older and younger. The whole plan of going travelling was out the window now. Instead, I’d be sniffing dirty nappies and cleaning bottles for the next year or two.

Oh God! And then there was the toddler years!

My child was going to die.

“Are you done yet?” An impatient kick on the door sounded from beside me, nearly causing me to fling the pregnancy test across the room. “I’m just dying of anticipation out here!”

I’d almost forgotten my best-friend Whitney was still sat in my bedroom. I could just picture the way her tall, lanky body was leant against the door, her ear pressed tightly to it and her blue eyes wild with excitement and dread for me. Whitney had been the first person I told when I became suspicious a week ago and when I called her randomly this evening that I was finally going to take the test, she’d gotten here in minutes – clad in a golden ball-gown and skyscraper heels. The girl had fled her own fiancé’s dinner party to be here with me.

I clasped the stick tightly in my fist and shakily, rose from the toilet seat. On weak knees, I wandered over to the door, opened it and turned to face my red-head of a friend with tears in my eyes. She hugged me instantly. Words weren’t needed with Whitney which is why I guess is how our friendship was so strong. We had a bond like no other and it had been that way since we met. I guess everyone has that one special friend that we meet once in our lives and I was lucky to meet mine so early on.

“Shit, Celine.” She murmured into my hair. “I’m...” She paused. “Sorry, I guess? I don’t know how to react to unwanted pregnancies.”

I felt her awkward shrug and chuckled, pulling back and wiping the few tears that had traitorously escaped my eyes. I felt the weight of the news I had straight after. Like I was carrying this huge boulder on my back that I knew I would soon have to share with my family, with my friends and with... Well, the father of my baby if I ever got to track him down.

“It’s alright.” I manage to choke out. “It’ll all be alright. I hope. I just...” I felt a sob wrack through my body. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do, Whitney.”

My best friend pulled me into another hug and stroked my hair lovingly. Her embrace was warm but it didn’t ease the worry and fear that now consumed my entire being. This whole thing was actually happening. I was going to be a mother.

“It’s okay.” She cooed. “Me and Ben will help you out as much as we can and I’m sure your brother and Milly will be around whenever you need them. The only thing I am worried about though is...”

“My parents.” I whispered. “They’re going to kill me. You know how they are about public image. That front page spread will give my mother a heart attack. ‘Princess Celine Knocked Up By Mystery Man.’ God, she’s going to hate me even more for the grey hairs that article will give her.”

Whitney grimaced and led me over to the bed, sitting us both down and grasping my hand in her newly decorated one. “What about your Dad?”

“He’ll probably just grunt my way like he usually does whenever I piss him off. I might even get a ‘What were you thinking?’ out of him. But that’s probably it.”

My parents have never really been my biggest fan. Personally, I think they just wanted all boys and I was just a bit of a disappointment when they found out they would have a daughter rather than a third son. I was also third in line for the throne, my older brothers Finn and Martin being born before me, so I wasn’t really relevant even then. I’d never be Queen and I was surprisingly okay with that – for the most part, anyways. My parents’ neglect wasn’t necessarily something I was fond of.

“What about this guy?” Whitney then asked. “Could you not tell him? Maybe if you get him to stand by your side and be a part of the baby’s life, they won’t be as harsh on you.”

“I doubt it. Even so, I don’t even have his number. It was a quick, dirty one night stand and everyone knows that exchanging details isn’t necessarily something you do in that situation. To be honest, I don’t even know his name. Plus, I’m assuming he lives in some foreign country somewhere judging by the accent. There’s no way we’re going to track him down.”

My one-night-stand was definitely something I will remember. Those eyes, those hands, that face... every moment of that evening will forever be imprinted in my mind. But his name? That was something I was completely unknowing of. I’d called him Javier countless times over the evening but that was purely because of how raw and Spanish his voice sounded. So to me, my mystery man was a Javier but his real name? I’m guessing I’ll never know it.

She sighed.

“Then it looks like me and you are going to be parents.” She said with a grin. “Your baby might even get Ben off my back for having some of our own so quickly after we’re married. I honestly think he’s trying to knock me up before the wedding you know. He’s that desperate.”

I laughed and shook my head.

Ben and Whitney hadn't really been a 'thing' for very long. But the feelings between them had been there since we were eleven years old. I still remember the day Whitney had whispered into my ear that she thought Benjamin Carlisle was 'cute'. Obviously, I didn't see what she saw -- at all. Ben, to me and what I assumed was to Whitney too, was like a brother. We'd basically all grown up together; spending each day of our childhood causing havoc and mischief around our school and our homes. Yet suddenly, my best-friend admitted she had more-than-friend-like feelings for the lanky blonde boy who'd we'd both taken baths with as babies. So, it all just felt new levels of wrong for me.

Whitney's crush never seemed to die out after that. It became a regular thing to watch her staring at him with literal heart-eyes during out study sessions in the library when we all started secondary school. Then, all of a sudden, I started catching Ben matching Whitney's obsessive staring and by then, I was certain both of my best-friends were completely and undoubtedly in love with each other.

But it literally took them up until three years ago to finally admit that to each other, five years after the simultaneous crushing began.

Now though, they're happily engaged and planning to get married sometime later this year. The gag I used to feel in the back of my throat whenever I'd see them smooching has now dulled to a faint impulse and now, I couldn't be happier for them!

Due to the relationship I have with my parents and my brothers, I have always considered Ben and Whitney to be the only real family I had, so once I got past the fact that their relationship to me looked inbred, I couldn't help but feel over the moon for them.

Smiling fondly at the blonde goddess dressed in gold beside me, I quickly dried my eyes and stood up. "You should get back to Ben." I told her. "He's probably missing you and worried about what's going on here."

"Don't be daft, Celine." She waved me off. "I can always give Ben a call later on. Or maybe soon. The poor guy looked like he was going to pass out when he found out something was wrong with you. You know how protective he is." I caught the glint of adoration in her eyes when she spoke of her soon-to-be husband. "Plus, all of his university friends are there. They're all probably keeping him busy, anyways."

"Whitney, go." I gave her a stern look. "This is Ben's big night and I'm sure he wants his fiance there on his arm. I'll be fine. I'm thinking about --"

Realisation dawned upon me like a football to the face. My jaw dropped and my heart sped up as I remembered where I was supposed to be this evening - not taking a pregnancy test and definitely not sitting in my bedroom crying my eyes out.

"Celine?" Whitney stood. "What's wrong?"

"My parent's family dinner!" I groaned, rubbing my hands down my face. "That was why I didn't come to Ben's dinner party tonight! It's been planned for weeks and I forgot!"

Whitney's faced paled as she realised what I was talking about too. The thing was about me and Whitney, was that we had the exact same brain. That meant we had the exact same memory so that's why Whitney didn't remember until I realised myself.

"Oh God." She whispered.

Suddenly, as if on cue, my phone began to ring beside me - that bright, cheerful iphone ringtone feeling like it could've been the theme tune for Jaws as I looked at the caller ID.

"Is that her?" Whitney asked, her eyes just as wide and as fearful as mine. I nodded solemnly. "Oh bloody hell."

Gulping, I reached for the phone and shakily raising it to my ear, wincing at the screech that emerged from it.

"Celine Margeret Lauder, where the bloody hell are you?!"