Giftchild (19 page)

"Of course," she said, "I'm surprised you guys didn't do it years ago. You circled each other for long enough."

I wanted to melt right through the floor. If I'd realized that at the time, things would have gone differently. "That's just how it worked out, I guess," I said.

"Seriously," Kara said. "Worst. Luck. Ever."

She wasn't kidding.

I stopped by my locker on the way to first period, and Kara paused, leaning against it. Rodney had cleared his books out, but he still knew the combination. Every time I opened it, I felt a spark of hope that he'd have been there, and left something behind. A book. An old test. Hell, a banana peel. Anything.

But I always found it just as I'd left it.

As I knelt down this time, though, white spots dotted my vision. I paused with a hand on my books, waiting for them to fade, but instead they intensified.

I squeezed my eyes shut.
Don't pass out,
I thought.
Do not.

"Are you okay?" Kara asked.

A rush of cold spread over my face. I sat down on the floor and rested my forehead on my knees.

A loud rushing roared in my ears, and my mouth watered. "Penny?" Kara said again.

Then I felt the back of a water bottle on my neck—still cold from the vending machine. Kara brushed my forehead, wiping away beaded sweat. I wanted to look up at her, but my clenched eyelids felt like the only things anchoring me to consciousness.

"What's wrong with her?" Kara asked. Her voice sounded far away. Too far. Definitely not in my ear.

I pried open my eyes. My vision cleared enough that I could see Rodney standing over me, one hand on my knee, the other on the water bottle on the back of my neck.

I squirmed away from him. Why couldn't I have just passed out? He'd wanted out of my life, and now here I was falling apart in the hall where he could see me. It probably looked like I was
trying
to get his attention. "I'm fine," I said, even though I could feel sweat breaking out on my forehead. "You can go."

But he didn't. "I'm going to take you to the office," Rodney said. "Can you walk?"

I swallowed. I
would
walk, because if I didn't, he might try to carry me, and then I would have to commit ritual suicide, possibly by clubbing myself over the head with my physiology book.

"I'll walk," I said. And I took a deep breath and straightened to a stand. I didn't want to lean on Rodney, but I couldn't help it.

"Come on," Rodney said. "I've got you."

My heart beat so fast I thought I might pass out again, but my mind actually cleared a little.

"I can go by myself," I said. But I was still leaning on him, which ruined my argument so thoroughly that Rodney didn't even bother responding.

The bell rang. I looked up, and Kara was gone. Had Rodney waved her off, or had she decided to leave us alone to work things out?

She probably thought she was doing me a favor.

Rodney led me down the empty hall toward the office, and I shuffled along, feeling as if we were treading uphill. My mouth started to water again, and as we passed the bathroom I peeled myself off Rodney and ducked in, barely making it to the toilet before I retched.

I knelt on the cold tile with my eyes closed. I didn't want to see what state the floor was in. It would just make me puke again. I counted the seconds, my head clearing. How long would I have to wait before Rodney gave up and left me alone?

Then I heard water running. Wet paper towels pressed on the back of my neck. I twisted around, squinting up at Rodney.

"What are you doing in here?" I asked. "This is the girl's room."

"I'm not going to leave you like this," he said.

My stomach retched again, and I leaned over the toilet, salivating, as Rodney stood behind me, wet towels on the back of my neck.

I'd been wrong. Things could get worse.

He put a hand on my elbow. "Think you can walk to the office now?"

I would, if only to end the humiliation. "Yeah," I said. I stood up and leaned against the wall of the stall. The world seemed to tilt back to normal again, though I still felt sweaty and off-kilter as we made our way down the hall. When we got to the office I sank immediately into a chair.

"You can go now," I said. But Rodney ignored me. He marched up to the receptionist.

"Penny's sick," he said. "She needs to call home."

I must have looked like I felt, because the receptionist didn't argue. Instead, she brought me a cup of water. "Do you want to call your parents?"

"Yeah," I said.

Rodney still hovered over me, but the receptionist shooed him away. "Go back to class," she said.

He hesitated. "Is she going to be okay?"

"I'm fine," I said. But my voice came out hoarse.

Rodney looked down at me. "I just," he said, "I think—"

"You've done enough," I said. Though this time it came out as a whine. I hunched down in the chair, and wished for this moment to be over.

Rodney leaned over to the receptionist, and said in a low voice. "She's pregnant. Is this . . . normal?"

My hands went cold. If I could have stood, I would have shoved him out of the office.

"We'll take care of her," the receptionist said. And then she ushered Rodney to the door.

I thought I'd feel better once he left, but I didn't. I just stared off into space, hoping no one else in the office had heard. Though, what was the point of hiding? Everyone would know in a couple months, anyway.

The receptionist came back and knelt next to me. "Do your parents know you're pregnant?" she asked.

I nodded.

"I'll bring the phone over," she said. "And you can call your mom."

"It's okay," I said. "I have my cell phone." I rooted it out of my backpack pocket. "I'll ask her to come get me."

The receptionist nodded. "Just make sure she signs you out."

Because I was old enough to have a child, but not old enough to sign myself out of school. As I pulled out my phone to ask the other person I'd wronged to come save me, I couldn't help but think that my life was irrevocably messed up.

And I had absolutely no idea how to make it right.

Chapter Fourteen

Week Seven

The next day, when I arrived at school, Kara was waiting for me at my locker.

"Feel better today?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said. Physically, at least.

She walked backward down the hall toward our first period class, hugging a notebook to her chest. "So, what happened with Rodney?" she asked.

I rolled my eyes. "He walked me to the office. Thanks for leaving me alone with him, by the way."

Kara's eyes went innocently wide. "What? He was helping you. I wasn't going to stop him."

"Yeah, well," I said. "I could have used you when he followed me into the girls' bathroom while I was puking."

Kara clapped a hand to her mouth. "He didn't."

"He did," I said.

Kara looked guilty. "Hey," she said. "Why don't you guys make up? I mean, it's obvious the guy is still in love with you. Ryan said—"

"
Ryan
said?" I asked. "You were talking to
Ryan
about me?"

Kara ducked into class, and I ran after her, plopping into my desk next to hers.

"Why were you talking to Ryan at all?" I asked. "You're broken up, aren't you?"

Kara got a sly look on her face, and slid down in her seat.

"You've got to be kidding me," I said. "Have you forgotten the text message?"

"No," Kara said. "I haven't
forgiven
him. We're just
talking
."

"About
me
."

From the way Kara smothered her smile, I could tell that wasn't all she was thinking about doing. I pulled out my phone. "Hang on," I said. "I think you quoted that text message to me. I can refresh your memory."

Kara reached for my phone, but I moved it away just in time.

"If you rub that in my face," she said. "I won't tell you what Ryan said about you."

I groaned and jammed my phone into my front pocket. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to know," I said.

Kara leaned toward me conspiratorially. "He said that Rodney has been in a bad mood for weeks. Rodney's crushing them all in chess games, and he wanted to know how he could get you two back together so that the beat down could end."

I sank lower in my seat. "Fantastic," I said. "So now I'm responsible for Ryan's losing streak."

"Hey," Kara said. "If Rodney slams Ryan at chess, more power to him. But if Ryan is noticing, then Rodney's funk must be ultra obvious, because no one is more oblivious than Ryan." She wagged a finger in the air. "Trust me. I know."

"I'm not doubting you on that," I said. And I buried my head in my arms.

Halfway through first period, the phone rang. "Penny," Ms. Flannagan said, "you're wanted in the office."

I swallowed. "Should I take my stuff?"

Ms. Flannagan shrugged. "I'd guess yes."

I slung my backpack over my shoulder, and shrugged at Kara's questioning look as I headed down to the office. When I got there, I found a slouching aide behind the desk. "I'm Penelope Overman," I told her. "Who am I supposed to see?"

"Ms. Aston," the aide said. "Don't ask me why, because they don't tell me anything."

Ms. Aston. She was the Vice Principal in charge of discipline. Going to see Principal Adams might mean something good, but no good came from a trip to Ms. Aston's office. For an awful moment, I wondered if someone had discovered the pregnancy test in my locker.

Then I remembered. No one had to find the test. Rodney had already told them I was pregnant.

I should have expected that to slap me in the face.

Ms. Aston had stringy gray hair that hung limply across the shoulders of her lavender blazer. When I arrived in her doorway, she smiled sympathetically at me. I wondered if she did that for everyone who was in trouble, or just the girls who she expected to be hormonal.

"Hi, Penny," she said. "How are you feeling?"

Starving
, I thought. But I said, "Better." And really, feeling hunger was up from where I'd been.

"I understand that you're pregnant?"

I nodded. No point in denying it now.

She handed me a piece of paper across the desk. "We recommend that our pregnant students transfer to Valley, where they can receive support tailored to their situation."

I gripped the flier. Valley was the district alternative school. Potheads went to Valley. Gang bangers went to Valley. People who failed all their classes went to Valley.

"You're kicking me out?" I asked.

Ms. Aston managed to keep up the smile. "Don't think of it like that. At Valley, you'll be able to get support from counselors who specialize in your problem, and have a flexible schedule for your medical needs."

"My medical needs," I said. "Is this because I was sick yesterday? I'm fine. I won't miss any more school." Really. People with the flu missed more school than I had.

Ms. Aston's smile faded into a firm line. "At Valley, you'll also be able to receive group counseling with other girls in similar circumstances."

Jeez. Group counseling with other pregnant girls. I could imagine the dagger looks if I admitted to
them
that I did this on purpose. "Shouldn't you be talking to my parents about this?" I asked.

She nodded. "Would you like to call them?"

To tell them I'd been kicked out of school? Sure, I was dying to. "Um, yeah," I said. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket.

"Is your mom at work?" Ms. Aston asked.

I shook my head. "She should be home."

"Why don't you sit in the hall," Ms. Aston said. "Ask her to come in and we can continue this conversation."

I nodded and wandered into the hall. I'd actually thought the string of conversations I didn't want to have with my mother had come to an end.

Wrong again.

When I turned on my phone, I had a text from Kara.
What's going on?

I sat down on the bench outside Ms. Aston's door, and texted her back.
They're sending me to Valley.

That would give Kara something to flip out over, besides trying to hook me back up with the boy I'd stabbed in the back.

Then I dialed Mom. She answered on the fourth ring. "Penny?" she asked. "Are you sick again?"

"No," I said. "But the vice principal wants to talk to you." I swallowed. This wasn't going to go well. "They want to send me to an alternative school."

Mom was silent.

"Because they know I'm pregnant," I said. "They found out yesterday when I was sick."

Mom's voice was firm and even. "Are you in the office now?" she asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Don't agree to anything," Mom said. "I'm on my way."

She hung up the phone.

When I lowered the phone I found another text from Kara.

Crap.

I spit out a laugh. I'd have used a stronger word, myself.

I leaned back on Ms. Aston's bench, staring at the Safe Sex flier on the bulletin board across the hall.
Knowledge is power
, it said. And then in smaller letters,
Power over your body, and your future.

For the first time in my life, I wished I was a smoker. If I'd had a lighter, I'd have set fire to the bottom of that flier and watched it burn.

They were sending me to Valley anyway.

Mom arrived before I committed arson. She was wearing sunglasses and jeans with stray threads clinging to the knees. She'd been quilting already this morning, which was a sure sign she was stressed.

She stood above me and pulled off her sunglasses. "Which office?" she asked.

I pointed into Ms. Aston's room, and Mom marched in without waiting to be invited. I scrambled off my bench and followed her.

Ms. Aston was on the phone. She looked up at Mom and smiled as I wandered in behind her. Mom plopped down into a chair across from Ms. Aston and waited for Ms. Aston's phone call to end.

I wilted into the seat next to Mom, glad, at least, that she wasn't yelling at me.

Ms. Aston wrote something down on a notepad. "I have someone in my office," she said. "I'll call you back." Then she hung up the phone.