alone with my man,” I say, and there it is, just sitting out there for the entire world to hear. I don't give a shit if I sound ratchet as hell either. It is what it is. I might've been born into wealth, but I grew up in poverty. South Prescott is in my blood, and I'm a stronger person for it. What does bourgeois Brittany and her upper middle-class bullshit have on me? I'll tell you what: fucking nothing. “And he isn't carrying your baby.”
“You'd know that how?” Brittany asks, clutching her drink close to her chest. “He fucked me enough times that it's a possibility.” Without thinking, I step forward and hit the bottom of her cup, upending the coffee all over her pale red sweater. She gasps and steps back, shaking out the fabric to keep it away from her skin.
“I know that he always used a condom with you. I know that I don't like you. And I know that Hael belongs to me now. That's what matters.”
“Holy shit,” Hael whistles from behind me, but he doesn’t step in or stop me from doing my thing. He doesn’t contradict me either, despite the fact that we’ve never once had a conversation about our relationship or lack thereof.
Something happened to me on Halloween night though. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I feel like I’m being pulled apart by the wicked fingers of the universe, and only I can figure out how to put myself back together.
“Bernadette,” Oscar says, appearing at my side like a summoned ghost. He freaks me the fuck out, this motherfucker. Like, how does he materialize out of nowhere like that? I haven't gotten the chance to ask him. “You know we treat potential clients with respect,” he says, giving me a look before glancing back at a fuming Brittany. “I hear you've called Havoc. What is it that you want?”
“I want Hael to step up and be a father to his goddamn kid,” Brittany snaps back, tearing her sweater over her head and leaving only her tank top. She's so skinny that even though she isn't far along, her baby bump is showing. The sight of it makes me feel nauseous. Some distant part of me recognizes that I'm being a bad feminist. I should support Brittany honestly. In all reality, it probably is Hael's kid. But I don't like that. It doesn't work into my goddamn narrative, and you know what? Senior year is my year, and I don't want to share.
“If it even is my kid,” Hael growls back at her. He snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me back against him, claiming me. I love it, and I revel in the look on Brittany's face, even though I know I rightfully shouldn't. Even though I sort of hate Havoc right now.
“Let her finish,” Oscar purrs, turning to look at us, taking note of Hael's arm around my waist, and then turning back to Brittany. “Go on.”
Brittany swallows hard, tossing espresso dark hair over her shoulder.
“I want Hael to take responsibility for the baby, to be a father, to come with me to my appointments.” She swallows hard and looks away, like we're about to get to the core of what she really wants here. “And I want him to come with me to tell my dad.”
“Fuck no,” Hael snaps back, his arm tightening around me. “Are you kidding? Do you want to see me dead or behind bars? Your father will fucking kill me.”
“No,” Brittany cries out, her voice this reedy plead that makes my teeth hurt. She takes another step forward, but I press my body back into Hael's. I licked him; he's mine now. “I won't let him hurt you, but it has to happen. We have to tell him.”
“We don't have to do shit,” Hael snaps, but Oscar gives him another long, studying look and he snaps his teeth together.
“What else?” Oscar asks, turning back to look at Brittany. “Because once we calculate a price, there's no going back.”
Brittany nods and swallows.
“I need you guys to deal with … another guy I’m having problems with.” She exhales and pulls her balled-up sweater against her chest. “That, and I want to get back together,” she adds, and I feel myself go hot and then cold on the inside. “That is, if the baby is his.”
“If?” Hael repeats, and I swear, I can feel his heart beating against my back. My fingers trace