The Queen B* and the Homecoming King (14 page)

“Exactly. Richard and I feel the same way, especially since she’s been avoiding everyone and hiding out in the library all week, and when I went by her house this morning, she’d bleached her hair blond.”

“Morgan? As a blonde? I’d like to see that.”

That did earn an eye roll. “Watch it, Dad. Not only is she underage, but she’s also my best friend.” I paused, sobered by the memory of her yelling
at me this morning. “Or, she was.”

“Don’t give up yet, princess. You two have been friends for too long to let some guy come between you.”

“I know, but I can’t even get her to listen to my side of the story, and that’s the most frustrating part of it all. Richard said he’d try to help smooth things over, but he’s been so busy this week with debate team tryouts and this new guy, he hasn’t had
a chance to talk to her.”

“Just give it some time. Sounds like she needs to cool down, and once she does, you’ll get your chance.”

“I hope so.” I’d hate to think about Morgan staying angry with me forever. Dad was right—we had been friends for too long to end everything over someone like Gavin. But it still made me wonder what he had said to her to set her off.

Dad rocked back in his desk chair,
pausing for a few beats before changing the subject. “So, what’s this about a boyfriend?”

Fire rose into my cheeks. I’d always been able to talk frankly about things like sex with my dad, but somehow, the mention of my boyfriend made me squirm in my seat with this newfound awkwardness. “Um, yeah, Brett.”

“So you finally decided to give him a chance?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“And what about your concerns
with Summer?”

“Unfounded. At least, for the most part. Turns out she’d warped the story of how our friendship had ended. She lied to Brett and claimed she’d been the victim and I’d been the one who’d read her diary to everyone. But he finally got a clue thanks to Taylor, and I decided I could trust him. In fact, I care about him.”

I glanced down at my phone, hoping to find a text message from
his mom with an update, but the screen remained blank.

“So why do you sound down about it?” Dad asked. “If anything, you should be on top of the world. You’re young and in love—”

“We’re not
in love
. We’re just dating.” Although if I could love anyone, it would be someone like Brett. “Besides, I’m worried about him. He broke his leg in last night’s game and has been in surgery all morning. I’m
still waiting to hear if he came out of it all right.”

Dad nodded, his fingers splayed over his mouth in a thoughtful pose. “Just remember to use a condom.”

“Dad, why does everything have to come down to sex with you?”

“Because everything in the world
is
about sex—”

“Except sex. Sex is about power,” I finished in unison with him. That Oscar Wilde quote was one of Dad’s favorites. And it was
only fitting, since he was a well-known expert on the philosophy of love and sex.

“Remember that if you ever feel pressured into having sex with a guy. There’s a reason why men pay for sex, whereas women don’t generally have to.”

“Okay, but A—you sound like Morgan. B—
ew!
on the prostitution thing. And C—Brett has a broken leg, so I doubt we’re going to be doing it anytime soon.”

“A broken
leg won’t stop a guy from having sex. It’ll just limit the positions he could do it in.”

“Again, Dad,
ew!
” I didn’t want to have a discussion about sexual positions with my dad. There was a good chance he’d tell me way more than I wanted to know. “But again, I don’t see us having sex for quite a while.”

Although, there was the time I’d lost my shirt in the locker room while making out with him.
And I couldn’t forget all the times I’d lost my head when he kissed me.

My dad grinned as though he knew exactly what was going through my mind, so I decided to drop the bomb on him. “Besides, if there was ever a lesson about the importance of safe sex, it was the little bit of joyful news Mom dropped on us today. Did you know she’s pregnant?”

Dad’s eyes widened, and he leaned back in his chair,
staring into space. “Whoa!” he said slowly like a stoned hippie. He repeated the word as he dragged his hands along the sides of his face like a pair of squeegees trying to wipe away his shock.

“It gets even better.” I wore a smug smile while I tattled on Mom. “She now feels obligated to marry the guy who knocked her up.”

Dad spent a few more seconds appearing to mull it over before singing
a few bars from a song about how it was a nice day for a white wedding.

It was official. Mom’s news had even made my dad a little bonkers. “Hello, Earth to Dad?”

“I’m here, princess. Just…whoa!” He wiped his hand over his face one more time before sitting forward and shifting his attention back to me. “So, how’s she doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know your mom pretty well, and she
usually doesn’t handle unexpected things like this well.”

“She actually appears happy about it all, which is nuts. I mean, she’s only been dating Pete for a few months, tops, and she’s way too old to be having another kid.”

“First off, if she’s young enough to get pregnant, she’s not too old to have another kid. Second, are you sure she’s okay with all this?”

“She was glowing, Dad.”

That earned
me another look of shock and disbelief, followed by another
whoa
. “If I didn’t know your mom better, I’d wonder if she hadn’t been partaking of the recreational weed there.”

“This is Mom we’re talking about, Dad, not you.” My mom was too professional, too straight-laced, too driven to smoke pot. My dad, on the other hand, had been growing “special herbs” in his greenhouse for as long as I could
remember.

He covered his mouth with his hand and turned thoughtful for almost a full minute. “This is so not like your mom.”

“Tell me about it. She’s such a stickler about making sure me and Taylor don’t get pregnant that she seems to have forgotten to follow her own advice.”

“No, it’s more than that,” he countered, shaking his head. “When I met your mom, she had every aspect of her life planned
out down to you and your sister’s birth months. She knew what she wanted and exactly when it should happen, and damn if she didn’t stick to it. And she only wanted two kids, so the fact that she’s having a third would be a huge-enough deviation from her life plan to make her lose it.”

I flashed back to the look of panic on her face as she flew out the door after the positive pregnancy test on
Wednesday. “It seemed like that when she initially got the news, but now…”

I focused on how she had looked this morning. All happy and calm and head-over-heels in love. “Now she’s almost like a stranger. I mean, I hardly know her since she started dating Pete. First, there was catching them together a few weeks ago. And now this. I mean, it’s a total lesson in irresponsibility, and yet she seems
so chill about it, I’m wondering how much she’s drinking when I’m not looking.”

“Your mom would never drink while pregnant.” The sternness in his voice stunned me. I would understand if it had come from Pete, but Dad and Mom had been over each other for so long, I’d just assumed he’d trash-talk her like most people did their exes.

He must’ve seen my surprise because he added in a softer voice,
“Alexis, things may not have worked out between your mom and me, but we did love each other, and part of me still cares about your mom. And for that reason, I’m asking you to go easy on her.”

“Easy on her? For being a hypocrite and turning my life into chaos?”

“You’ve always been too quick to judge and form a harsh opinion.” He didn’t have to add that I was just like Mom in that respect. I knew
he was thinking that, even though he was too much of a pacifist to say it. Instead, he said, “Walk a mile in her shoes before you judge her, Alexis. Think about what she’s having to deal with and how you’d feel if you were in the same situation. Haven’t you had your fair share of momentary lapses in judgment over the past few weeks? Did your mom judge you? Or did she comfort and support you?”

And now I felt like an utter and complete bitch. I remembered the way Mom had held me in her arms and comforted me while I cried last weekend. Yeah, I’d made some mistakes—some that might’ve ended with me in the same position—and she’d never once chewed me out like I’d done to her this morning.

“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need a joint to handle all this. Tell your mom congratulations for
me.” Dad ended the Skype call, leaving my face reflecting back to me on the screen.

Walk a mile in her shoes
.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what I would’ve done if I’d been the one with a positive pregnancy test.
Freak
would be putting it lightly. I’d probably be devastated. My plans for college and a possible law career would be ruined by an unexpected kid, and I’d be cursing the guy
who’d gotten me in this position.

But as I continued to dwell on it, I began to wonder what I would feel if Brett had been the one who’d knocked me up. Yes, I cared about him. Probably as much as Mom cared about Pete. And maybe if we were in the same positions in life that they were—out of school with jobs and stable homes—I would’ve been happy to marry Brett and have his kid. Maybe I would’ve
even worn that same sappy grin Mom did as I shared the news.

Yeah, I’d screwed up.

But that didn’t mean it was too late to make things right.

When I came downstairs, Taylor was gone, and Mom and Pete were sitting outside on the deck, enjoying a cup of coffee together in the sunshine. Even though Mom appeared happy with him, I noticed the red rims of her eyes. She’d been crying, and my conscience
dumped a load of guilt into the pit of my stomach.

I opened the door but lingered inside, not sure what I should do next. I mean, this whole genuinely groveling for forgiveness thing was still a new concept for me. I was used to saying what was on my mind and walking away, not caring what the other person thought or what my words had done to them. For three years, my whole existence had been
being hard and cruel, feeling superior to those around me after exposing their flaws. Now, I was being shown my own faults, and humility was a hard pill to swallow.

Mom and Pete paused their conversation long enough to notice me. I had no idea what expression I was wearing, but it was enough for Pete to take one look at me and excuse himself, claiming he had a few phone calls to make inside.

After he left, I took his chair and perched on the edge. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t look my mom in the eye. Every time I did, I saw the hurt I’d caused her. It hit me like a punch in the gut that left an ache that reverberated through my entire body. Instead, I focused on the half-empty cup of coffee Pete had left behind on the table and said, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

When she didn’t answer
right away, the apology kept tumbling from my guilty soul. “I shouldn’t have said those things to you. I’m just—I mean—this is totally unexpected. I’m a senior in high school, and you’re my mom, and this is…”

“A bit of a curveball?” she supplied.

“More like an ‘oh my fucking God’ moment.” I finally lifted my gaze to discover a bemused smile playing upon her lips. “I mean, seriously, Mom, you’re
having another kid. At your age. I thought you’d be anxiously awaiting the day Taylor and I would both be gone to college and you’d have the place to yourself, not be starting all over again. I mean, you’ll be the same age as most grandparents are when this kid graduates from high school.”

“You think that hasn’t crossed my mind? You don’t think I’m scared shitless about it all?” She set her mug
down with a sigh, her frustration seeming to vanish with the exhalation, and stretched her legs out. The calm, no-nonsense mom I’d always known settled back into place. “But I’ve had a few days to come to terms with it all, and I’m finally at peace with it.”

“Why? Because Pete offered to marry you instead of running away screaming when you dropped the bomb on him?”

She actually chuckled at that,
further confirming that pregnancy hormones must’ve caused some kind of personality transplant in my mom.

“I wasn’t too worried about that. Pete and I were already talking about getting married next summer after you graduated. This just bumped up our plans a little.”

She was so Zen about it all, I was tempted to sniff her coffee to see if she had added a shot of Bailey’s. “So he’s cool with having
a baby at his age?”

“He’s over the moon about it.” Her gaze flickered to where Pete paced inside the kitchen, his phone to his ear. When she brought it back to me, her happy façade began to crack. “To be honest, I’m the one having the hardest time with it all.”

Tears crept into her voice and triggered the sting in my own eyes. I blinked back the wetness that threatened to spill over and noticed
my mom doing the same thing. Great—my mom and I were so in sync that we could start crying at the same moment.

“You bought up some valid points, Alexis,” she continued matter-of-factly, even though the way her words shook betrayed her lack of confidence. “I am older, and the chances of me having a healthy baby at term are much lower than someone twenty years younger. And I did act irresponsibly,
but only because I didn’t believe I could get pregnant at my age from one spur of the moment act, especially since I was already starting to have signs of menopause. And I was terrified Pete would act the way you imagined when I told him the news. But I was wrong.”