snatch back the box, tuck it away.
'It ' s ... you know, a test.' I
whisper on the last word.
Louisa ' s eyes widen, she drops her voice lower than mine, mouths the shape
of the word: 'Pregnancy?'
I nod.
Louisa rolls her eyes, 'But, you and
Steve ... I thought you never did it!' I can take hearing his name from Louisa,
she ' s my friend, she makes me
laugh, but I still don ' t like
it.
'We never.'
Louisa sticks her tongue in her cheek,
rolls up her eyes again, 'Oh.'
I don ' t think she understands.
Shit, I don ' t think I do.
****
I sit through math but I don ' t think I ' m learning a frickin ' thing. My head is full of Steve and how I ' d promised he ' d be
my first and the way his face looked when he said about catching me with Brad.
He roared and cried and said I was like all the other dumb chicks jumping in
the sack with an asshole just because he gets ' Daddy ' s Porsche on
weekends.
I cry, too, when I see the little white
stick go blue. I cry and it hurts because I don ' t know why I ' m
crying. Is it because that ' s my
life, like, over already? Or is it because I ' ve done one more thing to hurt Steve? I don ' t know anything anymore.
'Alana, you dumb bitch,' I say. I' ve been sitting in the girls ' john for an hour; it took me so long to build up the courage to pee
on the little white stick but now I have the answer I wish I didn ' t. I wish I was never born, Christ, how did
this ever happen?
I pull up my panties and take Mom ' s gun from the strap thing on my leg. Mom
loves this little gun; she saw it in a movie once and Dad bought it for her,
strap thing and all. She laughed and laughed that day. That was a long time
ago. All the happy days seem a long time ago now. I look at the gun, it ' s small, says Beretta on the side but Mom
calls it her Bobcat, like, why? I dunno. I don ' t know anything. I don ' t even want to think about anything.
I put the gun in my mouth and close my
eyes but I can ' t pull the
trigger. All I see is, like, my mom and dad and grandpaw crying and crying and
crying and the tears are just too much. I don ' t want to cause anymore tears. I didn ' t want to cause any tears, ever.
****
'Hey, Alana ... how ' bout a replay?' shouts Brad to me.
Am I, like, underwater or something? My
mind feels all fuggy, could be the tears but I feel changed. My thinking just
doesn ' t work. Dr Morgan said I ' d feel different when the medication kicked
in, but I don ' t think this is
what he meant.
'Are you talking to me?' I shout back.
Brad ' s jock buddies slap him on the back, there ' s white teeth lighting up the whole corridor as all the queen
bitches stop to stare and you could hear a fuckin ' pin drop, like they always say.
'That night at Trish Jacob' s place was, ehm, y ' know
...'
I sure as hell don ' t know.
'Was what?'
More back slapping, one of the
goofballs gets so excited he drops a folder, papers swirl about when the door
to the schoolyard opens and the breeze takes them.
Brad puts his hands out. 'What, you don ' t remember?'
I shake my head. I ' m just so glad Steve ' s moved to Lincoln High and can ' t see any of this.
'Well, how about I give you a re-run
tonight?'
This is, like, tennis or something,
eyes flitting up and down the hallway to catch what I ' m gonna say next. I don ' t even know, only, I ' ve said it before I realise.
'Okay, sure.'
The silence breaks into uproar.
'Woop-woop-woop,' carries down the hall
and Brad' s buddies try to lift him up. The noise brings
out Mr Martinez from the history department and he smacks his hands together to
get everyone to shut the hell up.
Soon all I hear is the queen bitches
slipping past me and muttering 'slut' over and over.
Like I give a fuck, now.
****
The black Porsche 911 is sat
outside our front porch for, like, maybe a minute before Brad ' s hitting the horn and yelling.
'Who is that?' asks Mom.
'No one,' I say.
'Don' t you lie
to me, missy!' She goes to the window, pulls back the drapes. 'What in the
'It ' s ... you know, a test.' I
whisper on the last word.
Louisa ' s eyes widen, she drops her voice lower than mine, mouths the shape
of the word: 'Pregnancy?'
I nod.
Louisa rolls her eyes, 'But, you and
Steve ... I thought you never did it!' I can take hearing his name from Louisa,
she ' s my friend, she makes me
laugh, but I still don ' t like
it.
'We never.'
Louisa sticks her tongue in her cheek,
rolls up her eyes again, 'Oh.'
I don ' t think she understands.
Shit, I don ' t think I do.
****
I sit through math but I don ' t think I ' m learning a frickin ' thing. My head is full of Steve and how I ' d promised he ' d be
my first and the way his face looked when he said about catching me with Brad.
He roared and cried and said I was like all the other dumb chicks jumping in
the sack with an asshole just because he gets ' Daddy ' s Porsche on
weekends.
I cry, too, when I see the little white
stick go blue. I cry and it hurts because I don ' t know why I ' m
crying. Is it because that ' s my
life, like, over already? Or is it because I ' ve done one more thing to hurt Steve? I don ' t know anything anymore.
'Alana, you dumb bitch,' I say. I' ve been sitting in the girls ' john for an hour; it took me so long to build up the courage to pee
on the little white stick but now I have the answer I wish I didn ' t. I wish I was never born, Christ, how did
this ever happen?
I pull up my panties and take Mom ' s gun from the strap thing on my leg. Mom
loves this little gun; she saw it in a movie once and Dad bought it for her,
strap thing and all. She laughed and laughed that day. That was a long time
ago. All the happy days seem a long time ago now. I look at the gun, it ' s small, says Beretta on the side but Mom
calls it her Bobcat, like, why? I dunno. I don ' t know anything. I don ' t even want to think about anything.
I put the gun in my mouth and close my
eyes but I can ' t pull the
trigger. All I see is, like, my mom and dad and grandpaw crying and crying and
crying and the tears are just too much. I don ' t want to cause anymore tears. I didn ' t want to cause any tears, ever.
****
'Hey, Alana ... how ' bout a replay?' shouts Brad to me.
Am I, like, underwater or something? My
mind feels all fuggy, could be the tears but I feel changed. My thinking just
doesn ' t work. Dr Morgan said I ' d feel different when the medication kicked
in, but I don ' t think this is
what he meant.
'Are you talking to me?' I shout back.
Brad ' s jock buddies slap him on the back, there ' s white teeth lighting up the whole corridor as all the queen
bitches stop to stare and you could hear a fuckin ' pin drop, like they always say.
'That night at Trish Jacob' s place was, ehm, y ' know
...'
I sure as hell don ' t know.
'Was what?'
More back slapping, one of the
goofballs gets so excited he drops a folder, papers swirl about when the door
to the schoolyard opens and the breeze takes them.
Brad puts his hands out. 'What, you don ' t remember?'
I shake my head. I ' m just so glad Steve ' s moved to Lincoln High and can ' t see any of this.
'Well, how about I give you a re-run
tonight?'
This is, like, tennis or something,
eyes flitting up and down the hallway to catch what I ' m gonna say next. I don ' t even know, only, I ' ve said it before I realise.
'Okay, sure.'
The silence breaks into uproar.
'Woop-woop-woop,' carries down the hall
and Brad' s buddies try to lift him up. The noise brings
out Mr Martinez from the history department and he smacks his hands together to
get everyone to shut the hell up.
Soon all I hear is the queen bitches
slipping past me and muttering 'slut' over and over.
Like I give a fuck, now.
****
The black Porsche 911 is sat
outside our front porch for, like, maybe a minute before Brad ' s hitting the horn and yelling.
'Who is that?' asks Mom.
'No one,' I say.
'Don' t you lie
to me, missy!' She goes to the window, pulls back the drapes. 'What in the
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