“Erica?” I ask, leaning away from her.
She grips my arms, her face frantic.
“Did you hurt Billy?” I ask, panic in my throat.
She’s breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, and then she looks at me, and says, “I didn’t mean to.”
“Erica Richardson? We’re taking you in. Now.” Detective Hampton trots toward us, handcuffs dangling from two fingers.
Erica stands, tears falling down her face. “I’m sorry,” she says to me. “I’m so sorry.”
Frankie looks at me with wide eyes, and I have no idea what to say, no idea what’s going on, can only watch as Hampton peels Erica’s fingers off the porch railing one by one, not sure who my best friend is anymore.
The Party
2:30 a.m.
“Shh, Billy. It’s okay. It’s okay.” Erica looped an arm around Billy’s shoulder, and he couldn’t help but lean into her. She smelled so good, like beer and driftwood, and underneath all that, she smelled like home.
“Erica,” he said, her name soft on his lips. He liked the way it sounded. So classic and elegant, just like her. He lifted his face to hers and leaned forward, pursing his lips, waiting to feel her soft mouth. But there was nothing there, just air, the absence of her, and Billy opened his eyes, searching. Erica’s head hung down and she was sniffling, like she was about to start crying, too. “Hey,” he said. “Is this because of Trevor? Because come on. That kid’s a joke.”
Erica shook her head, her mouth trembling. “I’m pregnant, Billy.”
Billy had never truly been shocked before. He had been surprised or delighted, but this form of shock—the kind that makes the whole world stop spinning, the air in front of you freeze, the hairs on the backs of your arms stand on end—was new to him.
“It’s his?” Billy asked. The despair in his voice was new, too. The absolute and utter despair. This was all wrong. So wrong.
But then, miraculously, Erica shook her head and looked up at him, her brown eyes wet. “It’s yours.”
It wasn’t despair he felt. No. It was elation. Joy. He couldn’t contain himself. He pressed his hands to Erica’s cheeks and kissed her hard. Hermouth wilted against his, but he didn’t care. He and Erica would be linked forever by this thing they created, this magic. He knew it was ridiculous to be this happy, but he couldn’t help it.
“This is…amazing,” he said. His mind was moving quickly, a plan forming. “We won’t be the teenage parents you hear about on the news. I can transfer to school in New York. Maybe even Columbia. And my parents can get us an apartment in the city and a nanny and all the things we need, whatever they are. We’ll be fine. We’ll be more than fine! And we’ll be together. We can still do all the things we want—like go to parties and concerts and tailgates and…”
“But that’s not what I want,” Erica said. Her voice was small but forceful.
“A wedding? That’s fine. We can do that. We can get married. I’ll get you a big fat diamond.”
“But I don’t love you, Billy.”
Billy stood up. “What…But…it’sus.”
“I’m telling you as a courtesy,” she said. “I’m still deciding what I want to do.”
“What you want to do? Are you crazy? You keep it. You keep our baby.”
Erica’s face crumpled and she shook her head. “It’s not your body. It’s not your life.” She turned on her heel and started toward the street.
“Itismy life!” Billy called after her. How could she not see that? He grabbed at her arm, even as she tried to wrestle away from him.
“Get off me,” she said, her voice firm. “Now.”
She looked at him with wild eyes, and he kept his grip firm. If he let her go, she might never come back. She might—
The slap of her hand was a crack in the air, one that changed everything.
Frankie
News of Erica’s trip to the police station spreads like wildfire, but unfortunately, so does our little venture out of the house, which makes Mom and Dad extremely pissed even though, as I told them, I was only trying to make sure Lucy didn’t get hurt. No one thinks the youngest can protect anyone. Ridiculous.
