much for me and he allows us to work on a table that he and Jason bring outside.
“Do you want to eat lunch outside, or in the cafeteria?” Jason asks as we clean up at the end of class.
“Outside. I don’t think I’m ready for cafeteria smell.” Or to hurl again.
The left side of his mouth curls up. “You’re right. It’s almost as bad as the formaldehyde.”
“Worse,” I joke, letting out a small laugh.
Arissa darts out the door when the bell sounds and starts in with a million questions. It takes both me and Jason telling her I’m fine before she relaxes. Jason helps Mr. Langston carry the table back inside as Bobby arrives for Arissa. He’s all moppy sun-bleached blond, pale blue eyes, and tan skin from hours of surfing. They take off hand in hand, leaving me alone with Jason.
His hand slips into mine and I don’t pull away. Partly because I’m weak from vomiting, and because I don’t want to push him away anymore. I want to be allowed something good, even if my parents object. The longer you starve a person, the more they want food. Crave it. Need it. They starved me of real human connections my entire life and now that I have a taste, I want more of what I missed.
He leads me to the end of the building, into the grass under the shade of the trees with no one else in sight. We sit next to each other, taking our lunches out of our backpacks. I have no interest in eating and pass him my lunch.
“You need to eat something, Parker,” he insists, passing it back.
“Seriously, J. I’m not hungry.” I drop the brown bag in front of us as he removes his sandwich and unwraps it. “I’m afraid I’ll throw up again if I eat.”
His mouth opens to say something, then changes his mind and bites into his sandwich instead. I rest my head on his shoulder with a deep desire to close my eyes and sleep. He stills at the contact for a moment, then drapes an arm over me, pressing me into him.
Relaxing in the privacy of the outskirts of campus I understand what tranquil feels like. No worries. No thoughts of my family. Just me and Jason in this moment we steal for ourselves.
Mother turns onto Santa Fe Drive in the opposite direction from Dr. Bannister’s office.
“I thought we were going to Dr. B’s,” I state.
“I’m taking you to Dr. Black,” she answers, as if I should know who Dr. Black is.
Upon checking in, Mother fills out the paperwork and I take in the gawking from the women around me.
What is their problem? I don’t know who they are and they don’t know me.
“Mother, what are we doing here?” I whisper.
“Hush. I can’t think,” she hisses, hunkered over the clipboard.
I remove Raisin In The Sun from my backpack and read until a nurse calls me back. Mother follows us back and paces behind the nurse as she takes my vitals and then sends me to the bathroom with a cup to pee in.
I set the half-filled plastic specimen cup inside the little door next to the toilet. Mother has an odd look I can’t place when I leave the bathroom. It’s the same expression from this morning.
The nurse shows me into an exam room, giving me a paper “gown” and a paper sheet. The gown is an open crop top. The thin paper makes the chill in the room more obvious. The short exam table and the awkward paper getup prevents me from sitting or lying in any kind of graceful or modest manner no matter how I twist and turn. There’s just no way.
An older man with short, gray hair enters with another nurse and my mother. Shallow lines crease his face in a pleasant way that makes his smile look more genuine. “Hello, Sara. I’m Dr. Black. I understand you’ve been sick.”
I nod my affirmation, still not sure why I’m here and not Dr. B’s.
“When was your last cycle?”
“I haven’t had my first period yet,” I answer, bewildered.
“According to the pregnancy test, you’re pregnant,” he says with a gentleness that takes some edge off the shock.
My eyes dart to Mother and that look is there again. Fear coupled with worry. She knew when I told her this morning and said nothing.
My father impregnated me with his carelessness. Just when I think he can’t do any worse, he does.