I huffed and grabbed my geography textbook off the ground. With it in hand, I headed back inside to find my mom. I couldn’t get my mind to shut up, and there was only one other person loud enough to drown them out. She who didn’t knowhowto shut up. I found her sitting in the primary living room. She looked up at me as I walked in, muting her show and smiling hesitantly at me. I held up my flashcards like a weapon. “Quiz me?” I was almost blinded by the sheer joy in her ear-to-ear smile.
“Oh my goodness, yes!”
“Geez, Mom. It’s geography. Not the cure for cancer.”
“Right, right. Ok. What can I do?” TV off, she crossed her legs and patted the seat next to her. I sat, turning to face her, and handed her the cards.
“Answers on the front, questions on the back.”
She nodded eagerly, that little line in her brow furrowed in concentration. For the next several hours, she quizzed me until I considered burning the first globe I found. When I finally went to bed that night, I stared at the ceiling. When the same damn engines pulled me from almost sleep, I got up and grabbed the heaviest textbook I could find. Hurrying so I wouldn’t miss them, I went down the stairs and out the front door. It was a beautiful, if not a little chilly, night and I tried to enjoy it a little as I walked down the driveway. Right as they went past my home, I threw that book with everything I had. It didn’t hit them, but it did scare the shit out of them, judging by the shouts and the squealing of tires in the dark.
Take that.
Come Monday, I’d had my fill of studying and was ready to find Maria. I pulled into the parking lot a little too quickly, Sally protesting as I accidentally hit the curb. Sorry, girl. But there was one thing I wanted to do before I went inside. I was tired. Finals had me stressed. My bestie was going through hell. And someone was going to get their ass kicked. I found “someone” pretty quickly. Four jocks were leaning up against the worn brick, laughing at some joke I hadn’t been privy to. The quiet guy—Rodney I think—nudged his buddies when he saw me heading over. Dalton gave me a wide, friendly grin before winking at me and saying, “Hey, gorgeous.”
I scoffed at him. “Oh, fucking save it for one of the cheerleaders constantly hanging off you.” He held up his hands in an “I surrender” gesture as I fixed each one of them with a hard stare. “Which one of you miscreants thinks it so damn funny to hold your throttle down every time you drive past my house?”
They looked at each other and then Jackson, King Asshole himself, stepped towards me. “What’s wrong, princess? Don’t like us disturbing your peace?”
“I’m going to show you peace disturbance if you keep messing with me.”
He rolled his eyes, “Oh, you mean like throwing a textbook at us? Right. Very scary.”
I moved closer to him. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you act like a damn fool, or maybe that just comes naturally to you. Newsflash? Being a dick doesn’t look good on anyone. Keep pushing.” I didn’t give him a chance to answer before stomping away. My sour mood didn’t improve when Maria didn’t show up for school.
Not that day. Not that week. She missed finals. And she missed every call.
I was so damn worried about her I was sick. I questioned the teachers, even cornered the principal. I threw a tantrum when they told me it was confidential but there were “extenuating circumstances” and to “not worry.” After about two weeks, I begged my father to look into it. An address, a name, a freaking welfare check. He promised he would. I was going mad feeling so useless. He and Mom had some sort of holiday gala at the hospital with the Board of Directors and a bunch of important people. I managed to convince them to let me stay home. One of those sudden, winter storms came rolling in and my windows damn near rattled. I was sitting at my desk, trying to stalk Maria on social media for some hint of her whereabouts, when my doorbell rang. I about jumped ten feet in the air as the sweet, tinkling chime echoed throughout the otherwise empty house.
I had a whole rant ready for whoever was behind that door but my misplaced ire dissipated as quickly as smoke on the air.
Maria.
She was soaked from head to toe. She must have walked here.
Worse? Her busted lip. Her black eye. The swollen jaw. How she cradled her arm. Her bottom lip trembled and she looked up at me, “I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Ohmigawd, get inside before you freeze to death.” I was almost too afraid to touch her but, as gently as I could, I pulled her inside. “Maria, where have you been? What happened? Where is he? I will fucking kill him with my bare hands. My bare hands, you hear me? Why haven’t you answered any of my calls?” She shivered violently so I steered her into the kitchen where I quickly made a cup of hot cocoa and shoved it into her hands.
Still, she said nothing.
I ran upstairs, grabbing a change of clothes. She was bigger than I was, but it would have to work. I snagged a blanket from the back of the couch before rejoining her in the kitchen.
After she was changed, and not shaking like a maraca, I looked at her expectantly. She wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Maria?”
She finally looked up. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone. I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry.”
I shook my head. “It’s ok. I’m not mad. Talk to me. According to the many therapists I’ve seen, saying awful shit is something called a defense mechanism. I know I’ve done it.”
She started sobbing, a heartbroken, desolate sound. I still wasn’t a huge fan of touch, but my friend needed me. Oh God, she looked awful. I was almost afraid to put my arms around her, worried she would shatter at the slightest pressure. She was warming up but still shaking. She buried her face in my shoulder, and I just held her like I had wish someone had held me. Her next words were so quiet, I almost missed them. But then the three shocking words seemed to echo around the room.
“I’m pregnant, Holly.”
Chapter Six
? Holly ?
Most people would ask their parents before setting up their pregnant seventeen-year-old friend in the guest bedroom.
