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.
Mom didn't even let her say hello. "Are you aware," Mom said, "that according to federal law, you cannot discriminate against a pregnant student?"
Ms. Aston's eyes went wide. "I—" she said. "Well—"
Mom went on. "Are you aware that this means you are required to allow my daughter to continue in her regular classes, and any other school activities that were available to her before?"
I raised my eyebrows. I hadn't been aware of that.
Ms. Aston recovered. "We aren't kicking her out," she said. "We only recommend that our pregnant students go to Valley, for the increased support."
Mom looked at me. Recommend. I was pretty sure that was the word Ms. Aston had used with me, but a recommendation from the vice principal in charge of discipline sounded a lot like an order to me. "I thought it was a euphemism," I said. When I was the only one here, it probably had been.
Mom gave a sharp nod. "So you brought my daughter in here to scare her out of school, without informing her of her rights. Is that correct?"
Ms. Aston hesitated. Then she handed across the same flier she'd passed me about Valley. "If you look, I think you'll see that—"
"No," Mom said. "Do you know what year the law that protects pregnant students was passed?"
Ms. Aston looked stunned.
Mom cleared her throat. "It was 1972. That's before I sat in an office much like this, in Penny's exact position, and was told I couldn't go to school anymore." Mom set the flier back on Ms. Aston's desk. "I didn't know the law then, but I know it now, and you're not going to do to my daughter what was done to me."
My jaw dropped. Go, Mom, I thought.
Ms. Aston looked from Mom to me, and I saw her doing the math. Teen pregnant mom, teen pregnant child. Like mother, like daughter.
I bit my lip to keep from explaining. This was so not the time.
/> Mom dipped her head to the side. "If you'd like, I can get legal counsel."
Ms. Aston's voice was clipped. "No," she said. "Penny can stay in school. I only thought you might want to know about the resources available to her at Valley."
I sniffed. Sure she did.
"There are resources available," Mom said, "only if she's at Valley?"
Ms. Aston shuffled some papers. She wouldn't meet Mom's eyes. "No," she said reluctantly. "There's a support group that meets in the evening. It's district funded, but she could potentially—"
"So give me that information," Mom said, "and let my daughter get back to class."
Ms. Aston looked up at Mom, who stared her down with her very best don't-mess-with-my-child glare. Ms. Aston didn't have a clue what she'd brought on herself. Lily had been going to night school. The birth mom before that had dropped out. Mom was defending not just me, but all the birth moms she'd worked with who should have had better support.
Ms. Aston gave me a forced smile. "Get a pass from the front desk so you can go back to class."
Mom actually smirked at her as I got up and walked back through the hall to the front of the office for the pass, and I thought too late that I should have paused to give her a high five.
That would have made Ms. Aston's day.
I smiled all the way down the hall, until I passed Principal Adam's door, and heard Rodney's voice coming from inside.
I paused, putting a hand on the principal's door frame.
"I'm not leaving," he said. "I deserve to be kicked out as much as she does."
My heart dropped. Kara. She'd told Rodney about this already?
Ugh. No doubt she'd told Ryan, and Ryan told Rodney. The rumor train traveled at the speed of text.
I kept listening.
Mr. Adam's voice was sharp. "Our policy is to give support for pregnant students at Valley. Are you pregnant?"
"That's discrimination. What do I have to do to be treated the same way as her?" Rodney paused. "I could bring a weapon to school. Would that do it?"
I took a sharp breath, and put my hand on the doorknob.
Mr. Adams spoke slowly. "Is that a threat?"
Rodney actually sounded proud of himself. "That'd do it, right? You have a zero tolerance policy for threats."
I had this picture of Rodney getting himself thrown out of school and working at a gas station for the rest of his life. And it would all be my fault. I pushed the door open.
Principal Adams raised a hand to protest, but when he saw me there, he lowered it. Rodney looked over his shoulder at me and sighed.
"Rodney," I said. "What the hell are you doing?"
He shook his head. "Nothing."
My ass. "I'm fine," I said. "Go back to class."
Principal Adams nodded. "She's a smart girl. You should listen to her."
Rodney crossed his arms. "I'm responsible for this, too."
I wondered if telling his parents that had caused him to start believing it. He was obviously out of his mind.
I could see Mr. Adams sizing up the two of us. Of the two of them, he was obviously the more reasonable one. I pointed at Rodney. "Can I talk to him? Outside?"
Mr. Adams waved a hand at me. "If you can get him to stop acting like a lunatic in my office, be my guest."
Rodney glared, and I grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him out. I wanted to shake him by the shoulders and tell him to be grateful that the principal had decided to ignore his threat, but instead I just pulled him to the back door of the building and onto the lawn.
My mom's car was still in the parking lot, so I walked around the side of the building, where she wouldn't see us talking when she left.
When I turned around, Rodney's jaw was set like he was ready for a fight.
At least fighting was better than being ignored. "You're trying to get kicked out of school now?" I asked. "What is wrong with you?"
Rodney gave me an agonized look. "It's my fault they're kicking you out. I told the lady in the office you were pregnant. That was stupid, but I was worried about you. You looked awful."
My glare softened. He was worried about me?
Ugh. This was so not the point. "You don't just get yourself kicked out of school because you feel bad. They would have noticed anyway. It's going to get pretty hard to hide."
Rodney took a step back. "So, what? You're just going to go to Valley, and I'm going to stay here? Like I had no part in this?"
I leaned against the pointed stucco of the building, staring at him. I knew I should tell him I wasn't leaving, but really. This was ridiculous. "You are the one who wanted no part in my life, remember? You are the one who agreed with our parents that this was the best thing."
Rodney looked at me like I was the one who was being ridiculous. "Yes," he said. "I'm the one who decided to have a child and exclude you."
I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. He was right. I wasn't the victim here. "I'm sorry," I said. "But you told me that you wanted space, and then I find you yelling at the principal about how you want to be kicked out of school. They'd probably let me come back after I had the baby, you know? You'd never be able to come back."
Rodney looked miserable. Obviously, he hadn't thought through all the implications. Though I guessed I couldn't blame him for that. He'd probably caught it from me.
"Still," he said. "It's not fair for them to make you go alone."
My heart cracked open. Why couldn't he have just acted like a jerk, and yelled at me? That was clearly what I deserved. "I'm not going to Valley," I said.
Rodney's face washed blank. "What?"
I bit my lip. "My mom chewed them out. Apparently kicking me out is illegal, but they conveniently leave that out of the pregnant student orientation."
I wondered how many girls the district had sent to Valley without informing them of their rights. How many of their parents didn't know the law, or didn't come in at all to fight for them?
So many things about this were messed up.
Rodney looked down at the ground. "Oh," he said. "You could have said that to begin with."
I should have. Obviously. "So, what now?" I asked. "You want to be a part of my life if I'm being kicked out, but if I'm not, you're just going to ignore me?"
"I'm not supposed to see you anymore, remember?"
"Yeah," I said. "And who agreed to that?"
Rodney opened his mouth, then closed it again. "Come on," he said. "You can't expect me to know how to handle this."
My voice rose. "No one knows how to handle it!" I said. "But you could at least talk to me."
"Yeah," Rodney said. "Like I'm talking to you now? This conversation is going great."
I felt like he'd shoved me. No doubt this was exactly what he was trying to avoid: a shouting match. "Fine," I said. "Have some more silence." I turned on my heels. Rodney's hand grabbed my shoulder, but I twisted away from him. This time, I didn't wait for Rodney to walk away from me. This time, I walked away from him. I only looked back once. He leaned against the side of the building, catching his breath.
When I turned to walk back into school, I caught sight of someone watching me, near the curb in the parking lot.
My mother. She met my eyes and raised her eyebrows, and I got the message.
We'd been yelling loud enough. She'd heard every word.
Chapter Fifteen
Weeks Seven through Twelve
When I got home from school, I shut myself in Dad's office and opened the photography folder. Rodney hadn't added any new photos, but there were still plenty in the folder I hadn't edited.
This time, though, I didn't open any of them. Instead, I slumped in my seat. I'd been working on Rodney's pictures, but I hadn't taken a single shot of my own in weeks. Sure, I was just emerging from a serious case of brain fuzz, but still. Why was I editing all of his work?
I shut down the computer. I was doing it because I felt guilty, that's why. Because I was begging him to still communicate with me.
&n
bsp; I rested my forehead on the edge of the desk. Today, that was going to change. Today, I was going to send a message of my own.
I'd get right on that. Just as soon as I figured out what on earth I wanted to say.
For the next few weeks, I settled into a pattern. Mom drove me to school, and I tried to concentrate on schoolwork and not look for Rodney in the halls. We ran into each other occasionally, of course, and every time we did, he'd nod, and I'd nod back. I didn't want to push him, but since I'd been the one who'd run away from him, I tried standing nearer to him a couple of times, so he'd know that I wasn't avoiding him. Each time, I'd hesitate, wondering if this was the time he'd talk to me. But he'd just look away and keep walking, like I wasn't the girl he was sending all his pictures to.
I heard from Kara that he'd won another chess tournament. Maybe he was doing better without me around to distract him. Maybe he was glad I was out of his life.
I might have believed that, if it weren't for the photos.
The most recent set had been of the trees at the park—the same ones where we'd taken the pictures of the fallen leaves. Rodney had photographed the bare branches in black and white, layering over each other against the gray sky. There were so many branches in each shot, and yet they ached of loneliness.
I wished I'd thought of that. So, in the afternoons, between sleep and homework and more sleep, I tried to take pictures. I wanted to find something bright and growing to send. Flower buds about to blossom. New plants breaking the earth. But in December, things like that were scarce. I even checked the flower section of the grocery store, but their stock was low, and the leftover stragglers were turning brown at the edges.
I bought some wilting daisies, arranged them on a windowsill in the sun, sprayed them with a spray bottle to get some fresh dew drops, and tried to cut the brown parts out of the shot.
No luck. The pictures looked like a sad memory of something that used to be beautiful. I could edit them, of course, but Rodney would notice.
As Christmas approached, my brain fog began to clear, and I scrambled through school work, trying to catch up before my teachers started calling home. Mom hovered around me, like she was trying desperately not to micromanage my life. And in return, I tried not to snap at her when she assigned me meals and ordered me to bed.
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