TWO DAYS AFTER I TOLD Dad about Suki's pregnancy, Lance calls me while I'm doing English homework. Dad apparently threw up in the bathroom of the bar—which is crazy, because all his drinking over the years pointed to his tolerance being pretty much ironclad by now—and is in the process of being kicked out.

"Oop, screw that. He's out." Lance's throaty guffaw grates on my eardrums through the line. "Can you come drive him home?"

I throw down my pencil, rubbing my hand over my eyes. They're starting to swim after focusing too long on the small writing in my copy of The Lord of the Flies.

"He took the car with him."

"Yeah, sorry 'bout it." Really? I have to walk? "I would, but it's not safe, ya know."

Thirty minutes later, after I half sprint and half speed-walk into the town centre, Dad and I are driving home. I blast the heater on high, even though Dad always complains about it running the battery dry. He doesn't get to make requests, because—if I'm being honest—he's acting like a kid.

He passes out as soon as Lance and I lug him into the passenger seat, an arm around each of our shoulders.

Five minutes into the drive home, Dad wakes up and coughs. "Sorry."

I wasn't going to talk to him in this state. Preferably, he'd pass out again and I'd leave him in his car till morning. I don't even care if he showers or eats before driving straight to work. But I keep my voice cool. "That's alright."

I know from the apology that he's talking about throwing the bottle, kicking me out of the house and holing himself up in the bar ever since I told him.

He explains weakly, "You scared me."

"I know." I turn the corner slowly, on account of the icy roads. "I scare myself."

Dad thinks on this for a moment, chewing on his mouth like he's tasting his words before spitting them out. Good. Fuck knows he needs to learn to tame that temper of his.

"You'll be a fine father," he says eventually. "You keep your head about you. All the time. Whenever you get knocked down, you're right back up. Stubborn."

I roll my eyes. This is the alcohol talking. "Don't tell anyone about Suki. No-one in town really knows, and her family appreciates privacy."

Dad laughs brokenly. "Who would I tell?"

I glance over to him, seeing him stare at me with hollowed eyes.

At that moment, I realise he still loves Mom.

Who would I tell?

Who would he tell? He was completely alone, and too swept up in ancient stereotypes about masculinity to ever confide in his drinking buddies. And drinking buddies aren't friends if he's always so drunk he can't remember their interactions. Dad lost his wife, his best friend, his life partner.

I guess he's just looking for ways to keep adrift until he doesn't have to think about anything anymore. He'll drink until he dies, and why don't I care more? Fuck's sake, it was shitty to say, I resented him for being so pathetic. More than I resented Mom for leaving, which was so unfair. I shouldn't hate the one who stayed more than I hate the one who left.

"True." The only way out is through. Dad will get through this. So will I.

"You gonna marry her?"

"I thought you wanted us to break up."

"Yeah, then you knocked her up." His head lolls back, hitting the seat with a dull thud. "I'm proud of you for not leaving her. But you gotta clinch that deal. Be a real man."

"Why waste money on a marriage certificate?"

"It's not all about money," Dad drawls. "Some stuff is just the proper way to go. Marry her, get a car, buy a house. You do what you can, of course. Meantime I'll let you take the car wherever you need. She can move in, too, if you guys ever need it. House is plenty big enough."

I grit my teeth. This was the conversation I wanted two days ago, and now I have to settle for vague, washy promises from a man who isn't even fully coherent. Who might not even remember this. I fake a smile. "Thanks, Dad."

"But you promise me you won't stop working hard. Don't get lazy thinking the parents are gonna run around after you. This is your responsibility. Don't settle for just a marriage, a car, and a house. The moment you settle, you'll lose her."

I roll my eyes. Obviously. I'm not going to lose her. Not like you.

I pull the car into our driveway, and the cold bites into me as soon as the heater goes off. Dad groans and grunts as he hauls himself out of the passenger seat.

Before we step into that cold, empty house, he tells me, "You drive good."

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The school coach hits a pothole when it pulls up alongside the front lawn of the Academy.

The motion jostles me against the window, and I jerk awake, pulling my head from the window. When my eyes blink open, I see everyone picking their bags up and milling towards the door. Crap. Fell asleep. Again. My hair has left streaks of clarity on the frost, through which I can see gloved and scarf-wrapped students hurrying into buildings.

I depart the bus alone, slinging each arm through the straps of my backpack.

I've been riding the bus alone for the last two weeks. Suki doesn't come to school anymore. It's two months out from her due date, and she can't hide her bump even with the largest parka in the world. I don't think anyone noticed before winter break, but they certainly would now—no matter how obscure or reclusive Suki is at school.

Plus, with her accelerated SAT plans, she was leaving all the other sophomores in the dust anyway. At home, there's no reason to hold herself back for the sake of mutual classroom progress.

Every morning I drink coffee though I hate the taste. I never would have considered myself someone to have an espresso with his breakfast—like some fifty-year-old corporate sell out—but then again, I never would have thought I'd need so much caffeine just to make it to school awake.

Work has been draining me steadily. Not because I took on more shifts than before winter break, or because my new work duties are harder than cleaning the theatres. It's just the same. That's what's tiring about it. Day in, day out, after school, on the weekend, eroding my energy like I'm a rock in the middle of a river. The river doesn't even need to be raging. It—work—is just omnipresent and I can't escape it, only try to survive it.

The only way out is through. All that bullshit.

Walking to class, I feel an overwhelming wave of bitterness hit me.

These fucking children around me have no idea. About anything. And I know they're all around my age, but they're so naive about the world. As I walk to English, I hear a group of girls talking about the jock that looked their way, trying to figure out which one he was looking at and if it means he's got a crush.

He wasn't looking at any of you. He was looking at the one with the biggest ass and tits, but if you count that, then the blonde.

Then I see a group of geeks talking about some Debate competition they have coming up. Delaney Morrison, Suki's friend from homeroom, is one of them. She's the shortest of the lot, red hair and pixie-like face, but she's the loudest.

Grades don't mean a fucking thing. Stop obsessing over whether our school team is smarter than the other school team when you're all equally desperate.

Morrison's pitchy voice makes me want to slam my head into a locker, but Suki's admiration for her placates me. Unfortunately, it just gets worse as I navigate the corridors. God, how did I ever think these things were important? People have real issues, like the prospect of their child growing up hungry, in a damp house with parents who are never around because they're busting their asses trying to earn money.

Real issues. Not gossip, or crushes, or grades.

When I hear someone throw Suki's name into the conversation, my anger spikes. It's not surprising considering the acrid disdain for my schoolmates that was already circulating. Add in my protectiveness over Suki, and you get a really pissed-off Terrence.

"I swear she's pregnant," Girl 1 says.

"No way," Girl 2 giggles, scandalised. "She's such a goody-goody. Even if someone was desperate enough to do her, she wouldn't do it raw."

Turns out, it's useful that we kept our relationship secret. I hear their conversation before I pass them, so I slow my steps and purposefully lean against a random locker. I pull out my phone and start faux-typing, hoping they're not tactful enough to lower their voices as they blatantly talk about someone behind their back.

"Did you notice how frumpy she looked last semester?"

"She's a twig! Her ankles and wrists are so fucking skinny, how can she be pregnant?" Girl 3 chimes in. "She probably just likes baggy clothes."

Fuck. Suki was spot-on about that after all.

Girl 1 reasons, "Once I heard vomiting in the girl's bathroom, and when I went in to check who it was, it was Suki that walked out of the stall! She was the only one in there, and she hasn't come to school since New Year's."

"Maybe her family's still holidaying someplace else. Could have travelled out of state, or maybe to even fucking Japan," Girl 2 answers.

It seems like Girl 1 is the one with the suspicion, and the rest don't believe her. I keep myself calm and controlled as they pass me by, tittering obnoxiously as they stroll down the hall.

"Do they even celebrate Christmas in Japan?"

"Who knows?"

An irritated exhale slips out of me. Gosh, I really want someone to slap them. Not me, since I don't hit girls. But someone. Maybe a door can hit them in the face as they walk past a classroom.

I start typing for real.

Terrence: Brittany leaked the secret.

That's the only reason I can think of. Sure, they were talking about hearing Suki throw up and her clothing, but none of that immediately points to pregnancy. Maybe she gained weight. Maybe she had a stomach bug a few months ago. Who planted the pregnancy rumour? I have a pretty good idea.

To my knowledge, the only other student in on the secret is Brittany. And every fibre of me thinks she's a venomous, manipulative bitch. She runs a little empire on child labour, cyberbullying and the popularity of whatever athlete she's dating at the time.

Once, Madison simply pointed to a guy she didn't like the look of, and Brittany got her boyfriend to beat him to a pulp. Lost teeth and everything. How twisted is that? That's like three degrees of separation from the problem—he beat up his girlfriend's friend's victim, all because Brittany knows how to pull emotional strings.

Thankfully, Suki replies pretty damn quick.

Suki: She wouldn't.

Oh, for fuck's sake. She's so blind when it comes to Brittany. How come Suki questions and overthinks everything, except the prospect of Brittany doing what Brittany does to every single kid in school? Somehow Suki's the outlier? I don't believe it. Neither should she.

Terrence: Then why are people talking about it?

Suki: I don't know. It doesn't matter anyway. Just stop thinking about it.

By now, I've taken a seat at my usual table in English class, baffled.

It doesn't matter anyway. What's up with Suki? She's terrified of gossip. All her precautions—hiding our relationship, no PDA, concealing her bump—are to avoid the scandal and ridicule she's anxious about.

That's literally one of her many nightmares; she's recounted some of the bad dreams she has, where everyone has the ability to communicate telepathically except her. The paranoia that everyone is talking about and laughing at her, simultaneously behind her back and to her face, sends her into a cold sweat.

Even though Suki's sudden turnaround baffles me, I let it go and crack open my workbook. Maybe she's shifting her focus to real problems as well, no longer lingering on trivial gossip and bitchy teenagers.

The classroom fills with students as I revise the discussion notes on The Lord of the Flies. I didn't read the whole book—who's got the time for that?—just the first and last page of every chapter. I get a feel for the plot points, and I can fill in the rest with online notes. From what scant knowledge I've absorbed, I think I like this book. Unprecedented.

I see silhouettes dropping into the empty seats at my table, but I don't notice that they're not my usual band of lukewarm acquaintances until a deep voice says, "Sup."

I blink when I see Derek Hale sitting across from me. Brittany is by his side. Madison to my left.

What the...

Just great. The kings and queens of the sophomores, pissing me off when I've already had a shitty beginning to my day.

"Sup?" I mutter back. Who cares why they've decided to switch seats? So long as they don't distract me. Something catches my eye, throwing me so off guard that I forget to be irritable. Derek still wears the rings I relinquished to him at the end of Dare Week. "Nice rings."

"Thanks. They were a gift." I note the miniscule tip of his lips, and decide his way of being funny is being as dry as sand.

"Isn't that so quaint," Brittany interjects. "Bromance."

"Fuck you," I spit.

Madison's eyebrows immediately raise at my vicious curse, and Derek braces a hand on the edge of his desk. Overreaction on my part, maybe, but Brittany knows exactly why she deserves it. Exactly what she did. She only simpers, rolls her eyes and directs her gaze to her books.

As the lesson progresses, she refuses to meet my eyes again. Probably guilty about what she did to Suki. She ruined her reputation. Brittany flitters from looking at the teacher, to reading her notes, to glancing diagonally across at Madison and discussing eyeshadow palettes.

I don't know why I want Brittany to look my way, but I know it's something to do with forcing her to confront what a terrible fucking person she is. No-one else sees through her bullshit but me, so can she fucking face me?

She smoothly evades my face, even though I know she senses the daggers I'm throwing at her. When the lesson ends, I find myself staring at the back of Brittany's scalp as everyone files out of the classroom. If I concentrate enough negative energy there, maybe her head will inflate and explode.

Suddenly she turns around, grabs me by the elbow and moves me to the side, by the end of a row of lockers.

"Look, Terry," Brittany smirks up at me. "You're good-looking and all, but I've got a boyfriend."

What?

Is she fucking serious?

My narrows into slits and my vision tints red. "You fucking bitch. You think that's what I care about?" I grit out.

If Brittany is bothered by the cuss, she doesn't show it. In fact, I'd bet she gets cursed out daily with how callously she treats other people.

She simply throws her head back and laughs. "Isn't it?"

As her gaze finds mine again, I see mirth, satisfaction and a trace of curiosity in her brown eyes. Her lips quirk into a patient, self-important smile as she waits for me to speak again. She really doesn't know what I'm talking about?

So I scoff, stepping around her to head to my next class. "Unbelievable."

"That's what they all say." Her smug voice makes me want to hit something, but I simply roll my shoulders and shrug off the violent urge.

Whether or not Brittany knows that I'm with Suki, whether or not she was the one to start the rumour, I have no time for her mind games. She'd consider it a victory that she got under my skin. And I'm not like the other dumbasses in the school.

Maybe I was last year, but I've spent months forcing myself through shifts at the cinema, in public pretending I don't even know the girl I love, pulling all-nighters to catch up on studying, parenting the person who's supposed to parent me. Now I'm an expert at doing things I don't want to do—like letting Brittany walk away scot-free—but need to do.

I have to be, because unlike her and her cronies, I have real problems to face.

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A / N :

Moved into a new flat and I didn't realise how weird this would feel. I missed my parents immediately. My personal space is not that big, and the general vibe with Omicron and online uni is that it'll be the third year of feeling confined, like a bird stuck in a cage. Sigh. 

Aimee <3