Band Baby

"Like any statistic out there, I'm pregnant at sixteen. The only thing is it wasn't by choice, I was raped."

Clara Ferguson was raped at the age of fifteen. Being pro-life, she decides to keep the baby when she finds out she's pregnant. But being disowned because of her choice by her parents, makes her rethink her decision. She puts the unborn baby up for an open adoption.

One Direction, being so taken with Lux, decides to try to adopt their own child. Finding Clara, they agree to the open adoption, but more than that: They adopt Clara as well, taking her in. Clara doesn't believe in love anymore, but while watching some of the boys around her and around her forced child, she starts to fall for one of them. In the midst of romance, they still need to take care of this child, which may turn out harder than they all previously thought.

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2. CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 2

"Would you like some grapes miss?" asked a very good looking flight attendant. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun. Her legs were so long. Her accent was to die for, considering she was British. She looked like Barbie Flight Attendant. And then there was me. Mousy wavy red-brown hair that reached my shoulders. Freckles dotted my pale cheeks. My eyes were abnormally huge, a copper brown. On top of that, I was gigantic.

"Don't mind if I do," I said. She handed over the cup of green grapes, her eyes traveling down to my bulging stomach.

"How old are you?" she asked, trying not to stare, but she really was staring.

"Sixteen. Yeah, my parents aren't here with me. But you don't have to worry about that. I can find my way around perfectly fine," I said. I knew that's not what she was worrying about. She was asking because of my stomach. Her eyes tightened and her smile looked strained.

"I see," she said slowly, "Well, have a nice day!" She walked away and I knew what she was thinking, what they almost always thought: Slut. 

I popped a couple of grapes in my mouth and chewed slowly while looking out the window. First class, not bad boys. 

"We will be landing shortly," said the pilot on the overhead thing. I looked up and quickly buckled up. Gripping both of my arm rests, knuckles white, I breathed in and out slowly. Taking off and landing scared me the most. I wasn't sure why, it just did. After a couple of lurches and almost screams (from me), we finally landed. I unbuckled and jumped out of my seat. I tried to get my carry-on out, but I couldn't. Suddenly a hand grabbed my suitcase and brought it down for me. My eyes met blue brilliant eyes framed by dark lashes. His hair was wavy and dark. He smiled as I stared at him wide-eyed, frozen. He put my suitcase down next to me slowly, his eyes on me the whole time. He quickly glanced down at my protruding belly and smirked.

"Hey Clara," he whispered, his voice sending chills down my spine. At seeing my expression which was a mixture of hatred and vulnerability, he laughed and left. I started to shake and I had to sit down for a little bit. Who was he, you may ask? Trevor. And he was here... With me... In England.

Finally, after counting to one hundred slowly, I got up and walked off of the plane. There was a sign that read "MISS FERGUSON" in big and dark letters. A man dressed in a black suit held it up, next to him were all of my luggage. Hmm, I thought. I walked over to him and he looked me up and down.

"Miss Ferguson?" he asked. 

"How many pregnant Fergusons do YOU know?" I asked him, sassy. He smiled a little and lowered his sign. He held out a hand and I took it.

"It's very nice to meet you Miss Ferguson. The boys are waiting for you at home. Welcome to London," he smiled. 

"Thank you," I smiled back. He walked me to a sleek limo right after going through customs. He told me how excited all four of them were. 

"What about the fifth?" I had asked. The driver sighed a little bit.

"Harry doesn't want you or your twin babies. He says that the other boys don't know how much work it'll be. That it won't be like seeing them every once in a while. It'll be a lot harder than that." I had nodded.

"Yeah. It will be hard," I said quietly. I had remembered Harry. He was the handsome curly haired boy with bright green eyes that had said nothing during our one meeting together. That was a month ago though. I was eight months pregnant. 

I looked out the tinted window as the shops and people passed by me. Finally we reached our destination. It was an apartment building, a really tall apartment building. I walked out before the driver could open my door. 

"Which one is theirs?" I asked. 

"The tippy top. The two top floors. It's connected by a swirling staircase. It's really nice. Nice view as well," he said, nodding as he said it. Hmm, I thought. I tried to help Eli, as I later learned was his name, to bring my luggage up myself. But he said that according to my...situation...he must help me bring up my luggage. 

So I just let him. 

I was so tired and just wanted to sleep. To get up to the tippy two top floors you had to put in a key, because the elevator opened up to their little penthouse. The elevator opened and I took back the 'little' in my comment. 

It was huge. My jaw dropped as I walked further in. 

"CLARA! YOU'RE HERE!" cried Louis, coming up and hugging me, awkwardly. Because again, I was huge. The other boys followed behind Louis, each yelling my name and hugging me from the side. I laughed, I've never had this much attention from people. Harry, though, was hanging back, leaning against the staircase, looking on with disgust. Once I met his eyes, he turned around and headed up the stairs to wherever. Seeing my crestfallen face, Louis piped up, "Oh don't mind him. It's that time of the month." Then he winked. I cracked a smile, but I still wondered what problem Harry had with me. 

"How was your flight?" asked Liam. I smiled at him.

"It was terrifying," I said cheerfully. He laughed as Niall whined, "Is it lunch time yet?" Liam smiled at the blonde and brought his head underneath Liam's arm while leading him to the kitchen. 

"Sure," he said in the process. The other boys followed and Eli brought my stuff up to my room. 

______________________________________

Stuffing a taco into my mouth, mumbling "This is good!" 

"Harry made them," said Zayn. 

"Too bad he's not eating them!" Louis yelled up towards the ceiling so Harry could hear him. 

"I don't want to eat them!" Harry's distant voice yelled.

"MMM! THEY'RE SOOO GOOOOD!" Louis yelled, taking a big bite out of his taco.

"OF COURSE THEY ARE! I MADE THEM!" Harry yelled back. 

"So, one more month to go right?" asked Liam, trying to make table conversation. 

"YOU'RE MISSING OOOUUUT!" Louis called, still facing the ceiling. 

"Yup," I said nodding. 

"Are the twins boys or girls?" asked Niall, sitting next to me, his blue eyes wide. 

"NOOO I'M NOT. I CAN MAKE THEM WHENEVER! I'M SICK OF TACOS!" Harry yelled back. 

"One is a boy and the other is a girl. They're fraternal," I replied.

"Are you excited?" asked Zayn sitting next to Louis who was across the table from me.

"HOW CAN YOU BE SICK OF TACOS???" Louis yelled. I nodded.

"Yeah. Of course I am..."

"I MAKE THEM ALL THE TIME. YOU'D BE SICK OF TACOS TOO!" yelled Harry.

"How can you be? I mean...with your...condition...?" asked Niall. 

"NO ONE CAN EVER BE SICK OF TACOS!" called Louis. I stared at Niall for a minute. 

"For me, these children, these human beings, never did anything to me. Their father did something to me. Something I wish never happened, something I wish I could take back... But they didn't do that to me... So, yes, it'll be a challenge, but I want to love these kids with all of my being... No matter who their biological father is," I closed my eyes, "So yeah, of course I'm excited." I noticed that the table had grown quiet. Harry was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, staring at me. 

"That's very noble of you," said Liam. I decided to tell them about what I saw on the plane. 

"Actually, um, that guy... their biological father... He's here. In England. He was on the plane with me..." Their eyes grew dark. 

"He won't find you, if that's what you're worried about," assured Liam.

"No, that's not what... No, I know he won't find me. There's a lot of people here...and all," I said quietly. 

"Harry, are you going to join us?" asked Louis after a moment, gesturing around the table. Harry shook his head, turning around. Then he paused.

"Why do you guys eat with her anyway? She's not noble. She's disgusting," he barely muttered. But I heard him. We all heard him. He headed up the stairs. I blinked, aghast that he would say that. I stood up, the chair scratching against the tiled flooring. 

"Excuse me," I barely choked out. I followed Harry up the stairs, and he paused in the hallway.

"What? Are you following me now?" he asked, his low voice husky, but it was like a knife was driven into my chest, slowly.

"Following you? Why would I follow someone as arrogant as you?" I spat. He turned around, and stared at me with his green eyes.

"You. Repel. Me," he whispered slowly, "So don't think I'm going to fall for your innocent motherly act of yours." I glared at him.

"You don't even know me," I whispered, but my voice was packed with ammunition. He smiled slowly. 

"I don't want to," he hissed. He turned around and I glared at him. Turning around, I found my room. I walked in and the walls were a reddish pink. The bed was white. It was a nice room. I sat down on the bed, as one of the babies starting kicking. 

"He's a jerk, isn't he?" I whispered to my stomach, tears falling out of my eyes, "He doesn't matter. He's a jerk."

But if he didn't matter so much, why did what he said hurt me so much? 

 

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