by Kieran Scott
“Please, Mom?” I said. “Gray’s not getting home till late anyway, right?”
“And Quinn’s going over to Lauren’s after rehearsal …,” my mom said, thinking aloud. I bit my lip. My dad seemed to be holding his breath. “All right. Why not?”
She went to the closet to grab our coats, and my dad and I exchanged a grin. For the first time in a long time I wasn’t thinking about Jake or Chloe or the baby or anything else. I mean, I knew one dinner wasn’t going to change anything big—my mom was still getting married, of course—but it felt like, in some small way, I had my family back. And at the moment, that was all that mattered.
ally
At school, things got bad for Chloe fast. Everyone was texting crap about her, giggling behind her back in the halls, whispering and snickering whenever she walked by. She tried to ignore it, but it seemed like there were unshed tears in her eyes every minute of the day. It had been bad enough when she was just pregnant, but now that she was onto her second baby daddy, the whole school was buzzing with amused disgust. Someone wrote the word SLUT on her locker in indelible marker. Her Facebook page got so bad she had to block almost everyone. And next to her picture in the hallway—the one announcing that she’d won most likely to succeed—the words had been taped over with a sign that read MOST LIKELY TO GET VD.
If I didn’t hate my school before, I did now.
The deluge of crap she was dealing with made it that much harder to hold on to any residual anger and resentment I had toward her. Instead I felt sorry for her and indignant on her behalf. And now my rage was focused on everyone else.
One afternoon, Jake and I were hanging out by his locker, making plans to get me to his away swim meet, when Chloe and Will came walking down the center of the hall together. Will was the only bright spot I could see in the pregnancy fog. The two of them had been inseparable since that day he’d come to visit her at her house with the cookies, and nothing seemed to faze him. Not name-calling, not graffiti, not the fight with Hammond, nothing.
“Hey, Chloe. Are you sure it’s Will’s this time? ’Cause, you know, maybe it’s mine!” some jackass from the football team shouted after them as they neared Jake’s locker. “I know you were a little drunk that night, baby, but don’t you remember me?”
Will’s jaw clenched as his teammates cackled. So much for being unfazeable. I had a feeling he was about five seconds away from another throwdown.
“Just ignore them,” I said under my breath, but loud enough for Will and Chloe to hear. “Their heads are so far up their asses they can’t see daylight.”
Will managed a smirk, but Chloe was too busy staring at the floor. Or she would have been if her massive belly hadn’t been in the way. She lifted her eyes slowly and looked at Jake, who was busy shoving things in and out of his locker. Things he’d already shoved in and out.
“Hey, Jake,” she greeted him hopefully.
“I gotta get to the bus,” Jake said, slamming his locker door closed and tugging on my arm. “Let’s go.”
I felt prickly and sick as I shot an apologetic look at Chloe. As far as I knew, Jake hadn’t spoken a word to her since their fight, and it didn’t look like he was about to start today.
“I’ll call you later,” I said as I was tripped off down the hall. I let Jake have his way for about two yards before I wrenched my arm out of his grasp and stopped walking. “God! What’s the matter with you? I’d like to keep that attached to my body, please.”
Jake turned to me, an exasperated look on his face. “Why are you being nice to her? Did you space on what she did to me? Shouldn’t you hate her as much as I do?”
I took a deep breath for patience. Jake had been through a lot and I knew it was going to take him a while to get over it. But he’d been acting nonstop pissed off for, like, two weeks now, and being the person who spent more time with him than anyone, I was so beyond over it. My fantasy about things going back to normal in our relationship if he wasn’t the father? That was definitely not coming true.
In some ways, yes, he’d been the model boyfriend, sending me flowers for no reason, leaving little notes in my locker, texting to say I looked pretty or that he loved me or that he was thinking about me. But in other ways he was completely distant. He shut down whenever Chloe was in the room, and even after she left it was like he couldn’t get comfortable. Like something was eating him raw from the inside out.
“Jake, I know what Chloe did was huge, but she was terrified and … and hormonal,” I said under my breath, deciding not to feed him the gory details of her bodily functions and discomforts—details I was having nightmares over. “It’s over now. She told the truth. Your applications are in, you’re doing better in school…. Can’t you at least just be human to her?”
Jake looked at me as if he didn’t even know me. “No,” he said. “I can’t.”
“Jake,” I implored.
A few of his swimming buddies walked past toward the gym, and one of them reached out to slap his hand. He gave the guy a tight smile and our conversation was momentarily suspended.
“You know what? I don’t want to talk about this with you anymore,” he said finally. He sounded more resigned than angry. “I don’t want to talk about Chloe at all. Can’t we just … pretend she doesn’t exist?”
I wasn’t entirely sure how that was possible, but right then, I was sick of thinking and talking about it too. So, just to end the conversation, I said, “Sure. Fine. We’ll pretend she doesn’t exist.”
Jake smiled. “Thank you.”
He was just leaning in to kiss me when Hammond appeared from behind.
“Hey, hey, hey! You ready for the big meet?” He lifted his hand to slap Jake’s, and Jake’s grin widened.
“You know it!”
The two of them clasped hands and bumped shoulders. Crazy. Guys in general were certifiably crazy. Two months ago these two wanted nothing more than to beat the crap out of each other. Now they were suddenly best friends again, united in their anti–Will and Chloe front. The weirdest thing about it was, when Hammond found out about Chloe’s fling with Jake, he’d entirely blamed Jake and forgiven Chloe. But now that he knew she’d also flung with Will, he was pissed at Chloe and Jake was somehow forgiven. It was almost as if the fact that both Jake and Hammond now thought Chloe was a slut had somehow brought them together.
Just trying to figure it out gave me a headache.
“You going?” Jake asked. “’Cause Ally needs a ride.”
My jaw dropped. Like I wanted to spend half an hour alone in a car with Hammond?
“Oh, yeah? I can drive you, Ryan. Let’s go.”
“Cool. I better go before I miss the bus.” Jake gave me a kiss and a wave and was gone. Just like that, the boy passed me off to his former number one enemy—the guy he used to be so jealous of he hated picturing the two of us together. I looked at Hammond and wondered what he was thinking. Was he remembering how he’d kissed me over the summer at the old condo? How he’d confessed that he liked me? How I’d completely refused him?
“So.” Hammond twirled his keys once and caught them, a big-ass grin on his face. “Ready to roll?”
Guys. I just could not figure them out.
february
Who do you think would win in a fight, Will Halloran or Jake Graydon?
Oh, please. Jake, no contest.
I don’t know. Will’s on the football team.
He’s always slamming into people and getting back up again.
True, but Jake’s just bigger. Plus he’s Jake Graydon.
So? What does that mean?
He’s, like, the golden boy around here. Can you even imagine him losing anything?
But Will’s a Norm. He’s probably been in a ton of fights. Jake’s never been in any.
True. Experience has gotta count for something.
jake
“I can’t believe we’re out of here in, like, four months,” Trevor said. He was bouncing up and down on his toes, trying to stay wa
rm. Why we were not allowed inside in the morning until the bell rang was a mystery to me. Only special cases were allowed past security. Like if you had a meeting with a teacher or needed to see the nurse or had before-school detention. But if your nuts were freezing off in subzero weather? Sorry. Grin and bear it, my friend.
“Four months and then we’re basically adults,” Todd added, slurping on his hot chocolate. It dribbled down his chin and seeped into his light blue scarf, but he didn’t notice.
“Yeah. Adults,” Hammond said. “And then we won’t have to take shit from anyone.”
I rubbed my knees together, my hands shoved so far down in the pockets of my varsity jacket, I think I was shrinking. Four months and we would be graduates. And I had no idea if I had even the smallest shot at going to college. This was not the way it was supposed to be. By now I was supposed to have five offers for soccer scholarships and be making my own damn choices. Instead I was waiting to be approved by someone—anyone—like every other mediocre zero in my class.
God, I fucking hated Chloe.
“Dude. Check this out.” Connor lifted his chin toward the driveway. Speak of the she-devil. Chloe had just pushed her massive self out of the passenger seat of her mom’s car and was now waddling slowly up the stairs, holding on to the railing. A few girls giggled as she went past, and most people turned to stare. Without even looking over at us, Chloe headed straight for the front door. Guess she was one of those special cases.
She had just opened the door when someone on the other side of the steps let out a “Moooooo!” Chloe froze. Then Hammond made this elephant noise that was so on-the-money perfect, the rest of us cracked up laughing. Chloe ducked her head and rushed inside. Someone slammed me in the back of the shoulder and I whipped around. Weirdly, it was Ally.
“Hey,” I said, my breath making a steam cloud in her face. “What?”
“What the hell was that?” she demanded, backhanding Hammond in the chest.
He just laughed.
“What’s the matter with you guys?” she hissed. “Are you in kindergarten or something?”
“Actually, we’re almost adults,” Todd said proudly, grinning over the top of his chocolate-stained scarf.
“Then start freaking acting like it!”
“God. Calm down. It was just a joke,” I said, embarrassed. I didn’t like my girlfriend getting mom-ly in front of my friends. What was up her ass anyway? Since when had she named herself Chloe’s personal protector? “She brought it on herself anyway,” I said, rubbing my bare hands together. “You’re gonna sleep around, you gotta be ready to suffer the consequences.”
“Truth,” Connor said, slapping my hand.
“Oh my God! You’re such a hypocrite!” Ally said, almost laughing. “Are you forgetting that you slept around too? You could have just as easily been the father.”
“Yeah, but I’m not,” I snapped. “At least I’m smart enough to use protection, unlike that stupid Norm.”
“Good thing, too,” Connor said. “Girl like that? Who knows what kinds of diseases she could be passing around?”
“You guys make me sick,” Ally said. “That girl is your friend. She’s your ex-girlfriend!” she said to Hammond.
“Thank God for the ‘ex,’” Hammond said with a cackle.
Ally was so pissed, she looked about to cry. Suddenly I sobered up and started to feel just the tiniest bit guilty. But for what? Didn’t Chloe deserve to have people talking about her? Look at what she’d done to me. To Will, even. To her parents and Hammond and Ally. She’d spent half the last year lying and cheating and ruining lives.
“What?” Ally said to me. “What are you thinking right now?”
The guys stared at me. My face stung from the cold. I looked down at her and blew out a breath. “Nothing you want to hear.”
She groaned and stormed away as I turned my back on her. My insides felt twisted and torn, knowing she was mad at me again, but I tried to ignore it. I was mad at her, too. She was my girlfriend. She was supposed to be on my side. Why couldn’t she figure that out?
ally
This was déjà vu–ish. Walking into Chloe’s house with Shannen and Faith. Toting gifts and movies and snacks. Giggling as we tiptoed past the living room, where her dad was passed out and snoring in front of Fox News. I’d done this with the two of them a million times in my life, but not once in the past three years. As I stared down at my feet, making sure not to kick a table leg or trip on the edge of the antique rug, it was like I’d entered a time warp and landed right back in freshman year. Except now I had better shoes.
“I don’t know about this, you guys,” Faith whispered as we reached the bottom of the wide, carpeted staircase. Her hair was back in a ponytail and she wore a pink hoodie, gray fleece sweats, and Puma sneakers, like a comfy little fashion plate. “She’s been so depressed lately. What if she’s up there crying?”
The three of us looked up warily. Over our heads, the thousand-pound crystal chandelier tossed its light against the cream walls. When I was a kid, I’d always been terrified that thing was going to come crashing down and crush me, but Chloe had just laughed and said, “At least you’d have a sparkly death!” Girl had always been positive to a fault.
I pushed my hesitation aside. “That’s why we’re here, remember? To cheer her up.”
I’d come up with the idea after witnessing the guys’ immature antics before school earlier this week. It had been bad enough when random people were discreetly whispering about her, but now the people who were supposed to be her friends had gotten in on the action, and it was like they’d made it okay for the whole school to be as vocal as possible. Every day the teasing seemed to be getting worse, and I wasn’t proud of the fact that my boyfriend was one of the ringleaders. Organizing a night of pampering for the girl was the least I could do to make up for his ass-ish-ness.
“We can’t wuss out now,” Shannen said, adjusting the gift basket full of chocolate, chips, nuts, and candy in her arms. “And this thing’s getting heavy. Let’s just go.”
I followed Shannen’s lead, and after a moment, Faith steeled herself and trailed behind us. At the top of the steps we nearly slammed right into Mrs. Appleby. She brought her hand to her chest and closed her eyes like she was praying for patience. Her blond hair was back in a perfect chignon and she wore stiff gray slacks, a soft turtleneck sweater, and full makeup. Even though it was Saturday night and she was clearly not going out. Right now my mom was in sweats and a blue pore-cleansing mask, watching TV with Gray and chowing on Chinese food. Things were definitely done differently at the Appleby house.
“Girls! You must learn how to use the doorbell!” Mrs. Appleby whispered.
She’d been saying this pretty much every time we’d come over here since the age of seven. And as always I thought to myself, Why don’t you just start locking your door?
“Sorry,” Shannen said offhandedly.
Mrs. Appleby shook her head and stepped aside to let us pass. “She’s in her room.”
We thanked her and crept over to Chloe’s door. She still had the white placard with the painted ballet toe-shoe on it and the words “Chloe’s Room” written in pink script. Shannen quietly turned the knob and we peeked inside. Chloe wasn’t crying. She was sitting in her armchair with a blanket over her belly, reading aloud from Peter Rabbit.
For a second, we just froze. I looked at Faith. She looked at Shannen. None of us knew what to do. Chloe was reading to the baby. And suddenly I wanted to burst into tears. I knew we should back away. We should just go. We shouldn’t interrupt such a private moment. But then Chloe started to look up, and I did the only thing I could think to do. I grabbed Shannen and yanked her through the door with me.
“Surprise!”
Chloe dropped the book. “You guys! What are you doing here?”
“We brought snacks!” Faith announced with a big, forced grin. She held up her gift bags and nail kit. “And presents!”
“And movies!” Shannen a
dded brightly, unbuttoning her varsity jacket. “And pedicure stuff!”
Chloe pushed herself up from her chair with both hands, the book forgotten. “I can’t believe this!” she said, eyeing the booty we’d splayed across her bed. When she looked at us, her eyes were shining. “It’s just like old times.”
“That’s kind of the point,” Faith told her, rolling her eyes in an amused way. She walked around to Chloe’s side of the four-poster bed. “Now get up there so I can start your toes. I bet your feet are gnarly.”
“I’m not sure, actually. I haven’t seen them in a while,” Chloe said, struggling her way onto her bed.
Shannen popped a movie into the DVD player. I opened a bag of Baked Lays and busted out the Snapple. The two of us crawled into bed next to Chloe and propped ourselves up against her many, many throw pillows just as the FBI warning glowed blue on the screen.
“Pink or red?” Faith asked, settling herself in at Chloe’s feet and opening her nail kit. Inside, a dozen shades of polish were lined up neatly on tiny shelves, while the bottom well was filled with cotton balls, swabs, tweezers, cuticle pushers, clippers, and files.
“Got anything with glitter?” Chloe asked, craning her neck to see. “This baby’s gonna pop out soon, and when it does I want to be glam.”
“Got it.” Faith lifted a bottle of hot pink polish with glitter. “But first, we work on these heels. Because ew.”
Chloe blushed and I tried to refrain from smacking Faith upside the head.
“Want a present?” Shannen asked.
“What do you think?” Chloe asked, reaching into the chip bag.
Shannen grabbed a small one from the pile and tossed it at Chloe, who deftly caught it. She tore it open and grinned. “Cashmere socks?”