You Don’t Know Me but I Know You

by Rebecca Barrow

  And, she thought, another realization hitting her, if we keep the baby, she’ll be a grandma. Weird.

  Tick. One minute to go, and a girl who looked about twenty came out of the office looking sallow. Audrey swallowed. Once this was over she could move on to the rest of her to-do list. Read birth mother’s letter. Take photographs. Edit photographs. Fix things with Rose. Decide entire future. Write Spanish paper. The usual.

  The office door opened again, and Dr. Miller stuck her head out, smiling wide. “Audrey Spencer?”

  Audrey took a deep breath, and under her thumb Julian’s pulse beat steadily, calming her. “Hi.”

  She got to her feet. Ready, and . . . go.

  TWENTY-THREE

  Audrey came back from her regularly scheduled throw up and slipped into her seat across from Olivia, who didn’t bat an eye. She picked up her pen and stared blankly at her notebook. Tuesdays suck. Being pregnant sucks. Everything in the entire world sucks. “I’m so sick of being sick.”

  Olivia smiled slightly. “Have you tried the ginger ale–and–crackers thing?” she asked, her voice quiet even though no one around was paying them the slightest bit of attention. “My aunt swears by it.”

  Audrey shuddered. “That makes me feel even sicker.” Like she needed any help with that. Her breath smelled acidic and sour all the time, and her knees were sore from always kneeling. “I’m so done with all this.”

  “Does that mean—” Olivia paused her sketching and raised her eyebrows. “Are you . . . ?”

  It took Audrey a moment to realize what Olivia was asking, and then she slumped even farther over the table, letting her pen drop from her fingers. “Abortion? No. Or . . . I haven’t figured anything out yet.” Understatement of the century. But she did say, “I saw my doctor yesterday. Me and Julian went with both our moms.”

  “Whoa,” Olivia said, and her eyebrows shot up so far that they disappeared under her bangs. “Intense. I didn’t realize you’d told your parents. Are they okay with it? What did the doctor say?”

  Audrey tapped her foot against the leg of her chair. Were her mom and Adam okay with it? Good question. She wanted to say yes, but . . . after what she’d overheard? And all they kept saying was that they’d support her and that they loved her and that they weren’t mad, of course not.

  And what had Dr. Miller said: A lot of medical words and some other stuff that Audrey had meant to remember but had gotten lost in the way the doctor had clasped Audrey’s hand between hers on the way out, the way she’d said, “You’re not on your own in this, okay?”

  For the last week she’d been running those words over and over. You’re not on your own in this. She wondered if anyone had ever said those words to the girl Mandy. If they had, would she have done things differently?

  “Audrey?”

  She snapped her gaze over to Olivia. “Sorry. God, my head is so all over the place. Sorry,” she said again.

  “It’s all right,” Olivia said. “When my—”

  The shrill ringing of the bell interrupted her, and Ms. Fitz began speaking over it. “Everybody, remember! Individual meetings start at the end of the week! So if I were you, I’d take this week to make sure you have something concrete to show me then—whether it’s a piece of work or a plan for what you’re going to do, I don’t care. Make sure you come with something!”

  Audrey threw her crap into her bag and hitched the strap over her shoulder. Another thing to stress about. Shit.

  Olivia was waiting expectantly, fiddling with the pom-pom on the end of her knitted scarf. “Coming to lunch?”

  “Sure. I have to go to the bathroom first,” Audrey said. “I’ll tell you about the doctor later. And please—”

  “Don’t tell Rose,” Olivia intoned. “I know, I won’t. You don’t have to worry about it.”

  “Thanks.” She kicked a chair out of her way as they headed into the hall. “Not that she would even listen if you said anything. If it’s not about her, she doesn’t want to know.”

  “Oh.”

  Yeah, oh, Audrey thought. She wanted to say, What’s going on with you two, exactly? But to ask felt like she’d be admitting how out of the loop she was, and also, wouldn’t Olivia have mentioned something if anything were happening? They were friends—Olivia knew her secret. Wouldn’t she trust Audrey the same way?

  Forget it. She was making a big deal out of nothing, as per usual. Audrey shook her head and left Olivia at the top of the stairs. “I’ll see you in a minute.”

  Audrey splashed her face with cold water in the bathroom and then made her way to the cafeteria, trying to shake off the unpleasant feeling that had settled over her in art class. Her stomach growled as she joined the end of the line and picked up a tray, banging it against her flat palm like a drum. The options were sadly limited today: limp pizza, pasta, and the dreaded fish tacos.

  She bypassed the hot food and grabbed two cookies and an apple instead. Not exactly what Dr. Miller meant when she’d said Audrey needed more variety in her diet.

  The line crept forward. Audrey scanned the lunchroom, looking for Julian’s dark head. There—over by the windows with Cooper and the rest of his boys. He didn’t see her, though—too busy laughing at something, his head thrown back and mouth wide open, showing glinting teeth. It was easier for him to fake it, somehow. He had this ability to shut off things when he needed to, compartmentalize. He could always do it—when Nate got sick, so sick he had to be in the hospital for a month, and they’d had midterms, he still managed to get straight As. Pregnancy pamphlets on one side of his brain, band practice on the other. She could lie, but when she was playing at being normal, it always felt hard.

  Audrey lifted her tray high as she squeezed through a narrow gap. She was tired of lying. She needed to make a decision. She needed to talk to Rose.

  It was an instinctual thought, her brain forgetting how pissed at each other they currently were. But as soon as it entered her mind, it hit her. Her heart stuttered, skipped, and then fell back into regular rhythm.

  Holy shit.

  Of course she needed to talk to Rose. Not just to stop lying, to have it all out in the open, but more than that. To know what to do. Of course she hadn’t been able to make sense of any of this without her. Keeping it secret, keeping her anger so close and letting it tell her that Rose didn’t deserve to know—that wasn’t helping. She needed Rose to be a part of this, and how could she if she didn’t know?

  Audrey found them in the room, her best friend’s head bent low next to Olivia’s, and oh, how she ached.

  Audrey needed to sit down with the girl who knew her better than anyone else and lay it all out there, not only the part about how torn she was, how she could almost see two futures unfolding in front of her completely depending on which way she chose, but also all the tiny anxieties cluttering up her brain. The part of her—the whole of her, really—that kept coming back to the same thing: Would they still love her? Julian, her mom, Adam, Rose. Herself. Whatever it was that she decided to do, would they think differently of her—would they love her less?

  Audrey forced herself back into motion, swallowing the lump in her throat. All of a sudden she felt on edge, all her emotions rising dangerously close to her surface. She would get through this lunch, this moment, and at the end of it she’d tell Rose, and together they’d figure out what to do. Together they’d be okay.

  She finally reached their table and put down her tray in the space next to María. “Hi,” she managed.

  María scooted over as Audrey sat down. “I hate cafeteria food,” she said, looking sadly at her own pizza. “That cheese looks like someone already ate it and threw it back up again.”

  This brought laughs from Jen and Olivia sitting across from them. Even Rose, staring down at her lunch, cracked the slightest smile, a sign that ignited a cautious optimism in Audrey. Maybe she’s in a good mood today, she thought, like that day at the coffee shop when she’d gotten so close. I hope so. She’ll talk to me, and once I tell he
r, she’ll understand, and she’ll help me, and we’ll be fine. I know it.

  Audrey let out a tentative laugh. “Gross, Ree.” And feeling brave then, bolstered by the laughter, she turned. “Hey, Rose—”

  At the mention of her name Rose dropped her fork and stood up. “I just remembered,” she said flatly. “I totally forgot to do my assignment for last period. I better go do it now.”

  Audrey snapped one of her cookies in two. “What?”

  “See you later,” Rose said, but not to Audrey, to Olivia, who she bent down to and kissed on the cheek.

  Wait, what? Audrey felt her eyes go wide, like she was trying to take in that moment as much as possible.

  Did that really happen?

  So her suspicions had been right. Or it appeared that way, at least.

  How long had it been going on? Were they a Thing now? Audrey looked at Jen and María, registering their complete lack of surprise. So, no one thought this was important for her to know? Some friends.

  “Rose!” Audrey called out, standing up. “Hey!”

  But Rose kept walking until she was out of the cafeteria. Audrey sat with a thump, all that roiling emotion giving way to only anger now. “What the fuck?”

  María shrugged. “Someone’s got her bitch panties on today.”

  God, she was sick of this. Rose would rather avoid her than do the unthinkable and actually ask Audrey what was going on. Had it ever even crossed her mind? Audrey wondered. To talk to me? That maybe this time I’m the one who needs keeping sane? Audrey met Olivia’s eyes across the table. Well, apparently I’m not the only one keeping secrets.

  So fine. Let Rose be a bitch if she wanted to. And let Olivia look at her with an apology in her eyes. Olivia was sweet and Audrey liked her a lot, but that didn’t mean she was going to let Rose get away with this.

  She took a swig of María’s water without asking, slamming the bottle back down on the table. Then she looked directly at Olivia and narrowed her eyes. “Rose always has her bitch panties on,” she snapped. “Nothing new there.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  I’m so tired of this shit.” Audrey banged her hands on the steering wheel with every word: so—smack—tired—smack—of—smack—this—smack—shit. “I don’t know what her deal is! I know things have been weird between us lately, but it’s only because I’ve been trying to figure out this whole pregnancy thing. Like, sorry this fucking, possibly life-changing event is going on and it means I’ve been a shitty friend lately. My bad!”

  Julian put his hand on her knee. “In her defense—”

  “In her defense? Excuse me?” Audrey wrenched the wheel to the right and then slammed on the brakes, joining the end of the line of cars waiting to get out of the parking lot. A few cars ahead a certain shiny silver convertible idled, and Audrey knew, she knew, that Rose was in there with María or Jen or Olivia, one of them, complaining about her the same as she was doing to Julian right now. “She has no defense! She’s being awful.”

  “Okay,” Julian said. “Jesus. I was only going to remind you that she doesn’t know what’s going on. Remember?” He hit the heat button, and dusty air came blasting out at them. “Rose probably thinks you’re mad at her.”

  “I am mad at her.”

  “Why?”

  Audrey opened and then closed her mouth, searching for the words. Why was she mad? Let’s see: Because she needed Rose right now and she wasn’t there for her, was never there for her. Because everything felt weird without her and things were already weird enough. Because Audrey had never felt so utterly abandoned. And maybe that was a dramatic way to look at it, but she was feeling dramatic today. So abandoned—yes, that was how she felt.

  She pulled up the hand brake and turned to look at Julian, his face half in shadow from the sun hanging low in the clear-blue sky. “Fine. I know I’ve been a shitty friend lately. I know Rose has a right to be mad, but—it’s not like I haven’t tried. I keep trying to talk to her, but every time, she flakes out on me or makes some excuse or flat-out ignores me. So what am I supposed to do? I . . .” She grasped for words again, resorting to widening her eyes at Julian. Pathetic, but effective, always. “You know what I mean. You know she hasn’t been herself lately.”

  Julian rubbed his hand over his jaw, over the slight stubble he got when he skipped shaving too many mornings in a row. “I guess she has been acting kind of different lately,” he allowed. “She’s been ignoring my texts, too, and then that whole thing with her and Cooper—”

  From somewhere behind them came the obnoxious blare of a horn; the traffic had started moving without Audrey noticing, and a three-car gap had opened up in front. She whirled into motion, rerunning Julian’s words in her head because, clearly, she’d misheard. “That whole thing with her and who?”

  “Cooper,” Julian repeated. “You know. On Halloween?”

  “What thing?” Audrey flipped the bird at some asshole in a Camaro who cut her off. “Start making sense, please.”

  She felt Julian looking at her, saw out of the corner of her eye the way he frowned slightly. “Okay,” he said slowly, like she needed it spelled out in order to understand. “The thing with Rose and Cooper where they slept together.”

  Audrey laughed. No. No effing way. “You’re so full of it, J. Rose would never—with Cooper? Come on.”

  Except the way Julian was looking at her now didn’t seem like he was messing around. “Please don’t tell me you’re only finding out about this now,” he said. “You’re messing with me, right?”

  Audrey shook her head. “No way. Where did you hear this? Missy Trevino? You know she cannot be trusted.”

  “I heard it from Cooper.” Julian raised his hands. “I swear to God, it’s true. It was at his party, and Rose initiated, and he told me about the birthmark she has on her—”

  “Okay!” Audrey threw her hand up, using the other to flick her turn signal on. She did not need to hear any more. “I believe you.”

  “Rose seriously didn’t tell you?”

  Audrey looked straight ahead. Rose’s car turned left out of the parking lot, which happened to be the opposite direction from her home. “No. She didn’t.”

  This was worse than not knowing about what was going on between Olivia and Rose. This was a real dirty little secret.

  “I cannot believe her! That little—” She pulled out of the parking lot and swung the car in a wide arc, almost clipping the side mirror on some asshole’s oversize matte-black truck. “This, this is exactly what I’m talking about. She has sex with Cooper and doesn’t tell me? What else is she hiding?”

  Julian twitched. “Watch out for the—”

  “And you! What, you didn’t think to bring this up at any point?”

  “Wait, how am I the one in trouble here?” Julian said. “It’s not my fault that she didn’t tell you. And I didn’t mention it because, oh, yeah, my girlfriend is pregnant and we’re being the most indecisive assholes ever and it’s kind of stressing me the fuck out. Ring a bell?”

  “Don’t put this on me,” Audrey snapped. “You were perfectly capable of telling Cooper our secrets. What, is he more important than me? You can tell people all my business but he gets special treatment? Thanks.”

  “I thought you already knew! Wow, this is bullshit.”

  “Yeah, you’re right, it is bullshit.” Audrey took the next turn, toward downtown so she could drop Julian off at the restaurant for his dinner shift. “Why are you being such an asshole right now?”

  “Me?” Julian spluttered. “I didn’t even do anything!”

  “That’s my point! God!” She slammed on the brakes at a red light and gave an aggrieved sigh. “We tell each other everything,” she said, and she wasn’t sure if the we was her and Julian or her and Rose. Either way, she felt the heat of resentment puddling in her veins. “Always.”

  “Always?” Julian said, and Audrey could hear the judgment in his tone. She knew exactly what he meant. But not telling Rose that she was pregnant was not e
ven anywhere near the same league as this.

  So she nodded fiercely and kept her eyes on the road when she answered, “Always.”

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The sour taste of bile rolled around Audrey’s mouth as she shoved her books into her locker. Disgusting. The same thing she’d said when the contents of her stomach had splattered the inside of the toilet bowl earlier that morning.

  She’d wanted to spend the day lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and musing on the joke of the cosmos that her life now was. But her mom had barged into her room and refused to listen to Audrey’s indignant protests—”You are not sick,” Laura had said. “And you need to go to school. So get your ass in gear, now.”

  Audrey felt an elbow in her back and stumbled forward, catching her hand on the sharp metal grate of her locker door. “Hey!” She whipped around, scanning the hall for the culprit. Was it the football team jerk giving embarrassing handshakes to his bros, or the girl in the skirt so short Audrey could see the crotch of her tights? “Watch it!” she yelled, and the girl gave Audrey a nervous look before skittering down the hall.

  Audrey turned back to her locker as she heard her name being called. Without meaning to, she looked toward the sound, and there was Rose, smiling and waving like nothing was wrong.

  Is she fucking serious?

  Audrey narrowed her eyes and looked into the depths of her locker, at the books and snapped-in-half paintbrushes and torn notebook pages layered like sediment. “Go away,” she whispered into the pile of crap. “Go away, go away, go away.” Maybe if she said it enough, it would come true.

  Wrong.

  “Hey.” Rose broke through the cluster of kids standing next to the lockers, and there was that smile again. “What’s up?”

  Audrey turned her head ever so slowly until her eyes came to a rest on Rose, and then she pulled out this exaggerated gasp and threw her hands in front of her mouth. “Oh my God!” she said loudly. “Is it really you?”