Giftchild

by Janci Patterson

  Mom apparently didn't need me to. "Pregnant women really need to watch their diet, to make sure they get enough nutrition."

  I took a deep breath. I could do this. I could speak to my mother like a reasonable person. I wasn't Athena, who yelled.

  It was just two little words.

  I spoke softly, keeping my tone even.

  "I'm trying," I said.

  "I know," Mom said. "But you need to try harder. It doesn't seem that way, but if you eat, you'll feel better."

  Better? Food was not going to make me feel better about having lost my best friend.

  Stop it, I told myself. She was talking about the nausea. Though I tried to keep it out, an edge crept into my voice. "I want to eat," I said. "Trust me. I do. It's not my fault that I can't."

  Mom folded her arms. "If you feel this bad without food," she said, "think about how the baby will suffer."

  My hands trembled. "I'm not starving your child," I said. "I'll eat something for lunch at school." Probably a Snickers, but I wasn't going to say that to her.

  "Penny," Mom said. "You're shaking."

  I clapped my arms to my sides, but still my fingers quaked. She thought it was from lack of food, but that was only part of it.

  Mom spoke slowly, in the voice she might have used to calm a toddler. "Come into the kitchen," Mom said. "See if you can stomach some crackers."

  I took a step backward up the stairs. I couldn't do it. I couldn't sit there while Mom gave me that sad look, as if she hadn't torn my life apart by suggesting that Rodney leave.

  Tears burned my eyes again. Didn't she get that I was just trying to help her? Couldn't she look around and see that I was the only one who was? "I'm going to get ready for school."

  Mom let out an exasperated sigh, like she'd had enough of me. "Penelope," she said. "You are not the only one having a hard time."

  Something in my brain exploded, and I nearly yelled: I did this for you. But I swallowed the words before they could escape. I should have eaten the smoothie. I should have downed it and lost it and come back for more. Because between the nausea and the low blood sugar, and the things Rodney had said, I really didn't have a chance of holding this next thought in. "I get it," I said. "You wish it was you who was pregnant. Well, trust me. So do I."

  If she'd yelled at me, I might have felt justified, but instead her face fell, like I'd slapped her. She deflated, stepping backward away from the stairs.

  "Mom," I said. "I didn't mean that." My anger crumbled. That sounded like something Athena would have said to her. Not me.

  Damn it.

  Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut?

  If I'd thought Mom looked sad before, it was nothing compared to the way she withered before me now. "I'm going to go lie down," she said, and she walked away in the direction of the family room. Not her bedroom, which would have required her to come closer to me.

  "Mom," I called after her. "I'm sorry."

  But she was already gone.

  She showed up at my bedroom door a half hour later with a brown bag lunch, and I didn't say one word about not wanting to eat it. She drove me to school in silence, but I could see the things I said hanging like bags around her eyes.

  At lunch I bought myself a Snickers and an apple juice, and then looked inside the brown bag. Mom had made me a sprout sandwich—another thing I usually liked to eat. And though I logically knew I'd eaten tons of those in my life, I couldn't imagine how I'd ever gotten over the physical impossibility of swallowing bread.

  I called Athena. "You were right," I said. "Mom is making me her pet birth mom."

  "Um," Athena said, "did I say that?"

  "You did."

  "Hush," she said. "I'm trying to be gracious."

  "Just tell me you told me so."

  "What's going on?"

  I told her about the smoothie, with emphasis on how hurtful I'd been.

  "Well, you're pregnant," Athena said. "I'm sure it's normal to be hormonal."

  I rolled my eyes. This went way beyond hormones. "She was all concerned about what I was eating, and I get that, but the baby book says I don't need to worry about nutrition until my second trimester, when I'll be able to eat again."

  Theoretically.

  "Okay," Athena said. "Now I will say I told you so."

  "Thanks," I said. Though, predictably, that didn't make me feel better.

  When I got off the phone, I found Kara waving at me in the quad. I sat down next to her, drinking my miraculously delicious apple juice. The bottle claimed to contain ten different vitamins and minerals.

  Take that, morning sickness.

  Then I opened the bag lunch and pulled out the sandwich. As I peeled apart the bread, tiny green sprouts spilled onto the table.

  "What is that?" Kara asked.

  "Lunacy," I said. "How do people eat?"

  Kara wrinkled her nose. "You mean how do they eat that? Because I don't."

  I tucked a single sprout into my mouth. It didn't make my throat constrict, so I tried another. The bread, though, was not coming anywhere near my face. I opened up the sandwich on the table and poured the sprouts into the baggie, so I could eat them without having to look at their spongy companion.

  "I take it you didn't make that," Kara said.

  I looked over at her tater tots and soda. The thought of grease and carbonation nearly made me choke. "No," I said. "My mom did."

  Kara squinted at me. "Does she want you to diet? Because you look fine."

  Give it a few months. "She's just on a health kick."

  "And you're eating the sprouts," Kara said, "but not the bread."

  I shrugged.

  "Hey," she said, glancing over my shoulder. "There's your boy."

  I forced myself not to look. There was only one person who Kara would refer to as my boy, and he wasn't anymore. I picked up another sprout and twirled it between my fingers.

  Kara didn't notice my lack of enthusiasm. "They're coming this way," Kara said. She turned and waved. "Hi, Rodney," she said.

  At that point, I had to turn around. And when I did, I found Rodney passing our table with Ryan, Kara's ex-boyfriend.

  Was she trying to get his attention?

  "Hey," Rodney said. He might have been responding to Kara, but he was looking at me. Our eyes met. My heart hammered and my breath left me. As he passed our table, Rodney's hand drifted within inches of my shoulders. I thought he might touch me, but he didn't.

  "Um, uh, hi," I said, when they had already passed by. Rodney must have heard me, because he turned around and gave me half a smile. My cheeks turned pink as he and Ryan headed off through the back doors, toward the science wing.

  Kara planted her elbows on the table. "Okay. What was that?"

  "What was what?" I asked.

  She raised one eyebrow at me. "You dropped a sprout down your shirt."

  I looked down. It was hanging at the edge of my v-neck like a drowning man clinging to the edge of a boat. I flicked it off. Had Rodney seen that?

  Probably.

  "I did not see that coming," Kara said.

  I looked up at her. "What?"

  She grinned. "After all these years, you have a crush on him."

  "I do not," I said.

  "You do. You were practically drooling! How do you do that? I'd have thought all the years of friendship"—Kara tagged air quotes—"would have worn all the magic off."

  Now my cheeks were burning. I crossed my arms over the table top and buried my face in them.

  "Wow," Kara said. "You are adorable."

  I groaned. "Cut it out."

  She giggled. "Has Rodney witnessed this? Because he'll tease you more than I will. You know it's true."

  I put a hand to my forehead. "We're not . . . we're not really talking right now."

  Kara set down her soda. "What?"

  I sniffed. "Things are complicated, okay?"

  Kara was quiet. I peered up to see her contemplating my disassembled sandwich. "Holy crap," she said. "Are
you pregnant?"

  I moaned into my arms.

  Kara swore. "And he's not talking to you?"

  I snapped up to look at her. "Why does everyone think that Rodney is being a jerk to me? He's not, okay?"

  Kara looked at me wide-eyed. "Yeah," she said. "Okay."

  The people at the other end of the table stared at me. I didn't look around, but I was pretty sure they weren't alone.

  At least Rodney had disappeared toward the science wing. If he'd witnessed that little display, I would have curled up into a little nauseous ball.

  Who was I kidding? Enough people heard. Someone was going to tell him.

  "So what are you going to do?" Kara asked.

  I rolled my eyes. "Die of starvation, probably."

  But Athena was right.

  There was no way I was getting out of this that easily.

  I slept through the next week and a half. I'd zombie-walk through school in a daze, and then come home and crash in the afternoon. Rodney nodded at me whenever I passed him in the hall, but he never stopped to talk. In my lethargy, I managed not to stalk him.

  I did, however, stalk his photography. I guess without me bugging him to study, he had a lot of time on his hands. He sent new ones every day—plants dying from the sudden arrival of the winter chill, toys the neighborhood kids abandoned in the street. One cold gray day, Rodney took a series of photos of light bulbs shattering on black tile. I recognized the floor—he took those pictures in his hall bathroom. I wondered if his mother knew he was smashing glass in the house.

  I couldn't keep up with him, so I picked his best shots from each set to crop and color correct. Rodney didn't comment on my work, but I could tell from the history that he looked at the photos almost as often as I did.

  At the end of the second week, I was able to eat more, but I could only stomach simple things: chicken nuggets, grapes, carrot sticks. I was going to have a child, and apparently I was going to eat like one, too. I focused on each bite individually. Place in mouth. Chew. Swallow.

  I learned from the baby book that I wasn't supposed to see a doctor until twelve weeks, counting from the start date of my last period. "It's stupid," I told Kara one morning before school. "That means when I was one week pregnant, Rodney and I were both virgins."

  She shook her head. "You have terrible luck, getting pregnant the first time."

  Ouch. I nodded, so she'd think I thought so, too.

  "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."