He frowns. “You sure?”
Well, no.
Someone did say something to me. A group of someones. Girls from junior year I think. They didn’t so much say something to me asatme.
It was during lunch.
I was getting my salad and they pointed at my tray and giggled and they may have mimed throwing up. Or something like that.
To be fair, I had thrown up only an hour before. I had to rush out of class in order to do that and the news spread like wildfire. As I knew it would, about me getting sick, about me being the only girl living off campus.
About me being pregnant.
They all know now and they are all very scandalized. Again, as I knew they would be.
I knew that me being pregnant at eighteen would be a much bigger scandal than what happened with Salem. And it is. At least, I’m happy that some of the heat has been taken away from her. Because for a while there, they were all watching her.
They still do but now they watch me as well.
Our group has become the most rebellious of all.
We’re the St. Mary’s rebels.
In fact, my guidance counselor, who I always thought was my friend of sorts, requested that they switch me to a different counselor now that I’m pregnant.
I’m not going to lie. That did hurt, but it’s okay.
It’s not anything that I didn’t expect.
So I’ll live. But from the looks of it, he won’t.
“Yes, I’m sure,” I tell him. “Can —”
He looks over my shoulders. “Then what the fuck are they looking at?”
I know what he’s talking about.
Like me and my girls, there were others watching him as well. They’re still watching him and now me.
On his first day here, the whole school watched him pick me up after school. They stood outside the cinder block buildings, gathered in the courtyard and watched me walk up to him. Over the past week, a lot of people have lost interest but a lot of them haven’t.
So they watch him.
They watch me walk up to him and they watch as he takes me away in his Mustang.
By now they know who he is.
There are several rumors about him and me, and of course one of them is that we’re together. That he’s my boyfriend and I’m having his baby.
I am having his baby but he’s not my boyfriend.
He never wanted to be and he never will be.
“You,” I reply.
“What?”
“Girls always look at you, remember?”
