Part 17 (1/2)
”You don't have to worry. I'm not the kind of girl who guys moon after.”
Jeannie shook her head. ”Farah's twisted you. She's ruined you. I've been watching it for months and months.”
”Farah's my friend.”
”Oh, we're all aware.” Jeannie rubbed her forehead. ”Sorry Emili, I don't mean to bash Farah. It's not why I asked you to come.”
I stood up. ”You can stop worrying, Marc and I are over.”
She smiled then, a sorry-looking, unconvinced smile. ”Thanks.”
Some people called Jeannie chubby, but right then she appeared strangely slight. A surge of sadness washed over me. I remembered the days when we were good friends.
I'd started to go, then paused. ”Hey, maybe we could hang out again sometime.”
She wiped at her tears. ”Maybe we could. Sometime.”
Later during the afternoon, I was sitting in my room thinking about Jeannie when the phone rang.
”Farah. You sick again?”
”I'm coming over. Be ready.” She hung up.
Since when did Farah warn me she was coming over? What was I supposed to be ready for? Her voice sounded funny, m.u.f.fled. Was she still sick? Why would she be coming over if she was sick - I didn't want her germs. It didn't make sense. Of course, she could be faking it again and wanting to sneak off with Pete or her dad.
That was probably it. Or she'd already sneaked off, and she was coming over so she could tell her mom she'd been with me the whole time. Emili Jones: the perfect decoy.
It wasn't long before the doorbell rang, and I ran through the living room to get it. ”It's Farah,” I said to my dad before he could get up from the couch.
I opened the door and gaped at her. There were smudgy circles beneath her eyes and her face was pale. She gripped an overnight bag. Her purse hung off her shoulder, nearly touching the ground.
”Farah.” I pulled her into the house. ”Come on.” I kept pulling her toward my room because I didn't want my dad to get a good look at her.
He started up to greet us, but I was too fast. I yanked her down the hallway, pushed her into my room and slammed the door. I guided her to the bed and sat her down. ”What's wrong?” I asked. ”You look terrible.”
”I know. I'm pregnant.”
I froze. Was this her idea of a joke? ”Don't kid me, it's not funny. You look half-dead with the flu or something.”
She didn't say anything, and I began to feel sick myself. She wasn't kidding.
”How do you know?” My voice was quiet. ”Did you take a test? But it's too soon to know, isn't it? I'm sure you're wrong.”
Her eyes were teary, but her tone was determined. ”They have new tests - only takes two weeks. It's been over two weeks. Way over for the first time. I'm not wrong.”
”How did this happen?”
”Are you serious?”
”You told me you weren't going to do anything stupid.”
”I lied. Haven't you figured out I lie sometimes?”
I sank onto the bed beside her. ”It can't be true.”
”It's true all right.”
”You okay?”
She jumped up and started pacing. ”Of course, I'm not okay!” Her voice was tight. ”Do I look okay? I'm the opposite of okay.”
She stared at me. ”He told me he used protection. The irony is so rich, I could laugh - or scream.”
”Did you tell him yet?”
Chapter Thirteen.
”Pete isn't answering his phone.” Farah threw up both of her hands. ”I know what you're going to say, and I don't want to hear it.”
”He's got to know.”
”I'm aware. Can't you see the headline? Adult Teen Impregnates Stupid Sixteen-year-old Girl.”
”Oh, Farah.”
”He didn't do this on purpose, I know he didn't. I like him so much. I've never liked any guy so much. No, not true, there was someone else once. I liked him more.” She started to cry.
I had no idea who she was talking about. I took her arm and guided her back to the bed. ”Come on, Farah, sit down.”
She sat and pulled her purse around from behind her. She shoved it towards me. ”Go ahead and look.”
I stared at the purse, almost afraid to touch it. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was in there. Farah's wet eyes were fastened on mine.
”Go ahead,” she urged again.
I pulled the zipper open and peered inside. There was her cracked wallet, a brush full of loose red hair, lipstick, her phone, and a wad of tissues. ”I don't see anything.”
”The wallet.”
I took out the wallet and opened it. There were a few dollars, a credit card and a members.h.i.+p ID for Ailki's Gym. A photo was stuck inside the coin compartment. I peeled it gently off the leather. It was a much younger Farah with a guy who was high-school age. His hair was reddish blonde and he was thin, almost scrawny. His eyes were heavy and dark, and there was a look of terrible sadness about him.
”Who is it?” I asked.
”My brother.”
”What? You don't have a brother.”