Tilt (20 page)

Sweetheart!
Oh. My. God.

“S-sure,” I manage to sputter around

the giant lump that has formed in my

throat. Before I go find a snack stand,

I give him the prettiest smile

I know how to—the one I practice

in the mirror. The concession line

is kind of long and the whole time

I stand in it, one word keeps

repeating in my head.
Sweetheart.

Finally, I get the soda, pocket

the change so I don’t lose it.

But When I Turn Around

I can’t see Chad anywhere. No Chad.

No Lucas. I look everywhere, but no sign

of them. Maybe they needed a restroom.

I wait at our designated meeting spot.

Wait. And wait. It’s getting really dark

now. They’ll shoot off the fireworks

any second. Maybe I’d better go on

back to Mom. Did he ditch me? No

way. That can’t be. He called me

sweetheart. I reach our blanket just

as the first gigantic sparkler paints

the sky red. Mom is pacing, worried.

Where have you been? And where

is Chad?
She turns dagger eyes on

Cassie and Dad, who are too drunk

to notice. “I, uh . . . I guess he ditched

me.” Mom hugs me to her and I watch

the rainbow explosions, blurred by

traitor tears. He called me sweetheart.

Lucas

Traitor

When Chad wanted to

ditch his little girlfriend

in favor of a fat, stinky blunt,

I asked if he felt like

a traitor.

I mean, he did desert her,

and considering the way she

looked at him—like he was a god

or something—she’s probably

feeling like shit. But Chad

has no

connection with her except

his mom hooking up with

her dad, at least that’s what

he says. Considering, like me,

the dude lacks any sort of

moral

filters, that girl is in for

a world of hurt, unless

she follows the unwritten

code

of unrequited love: When

it all gets too heavy for comfort,

scream bloody murder and run.

Mikayla

I Wanted to Scream

When Mom caught me with Dylan

at the baseball game. I wanted to

grab his hand and run until we had

to stop or risk bursting lungs. But

I had nowhere to run to. So I stole

another kiss, tucked my tail and

followed my mother back to our seats.

Watched the game and fireworks in

silence, knowing I would not be

ungrounded for some time. Turns out

that was a wise move, because Mom

talked Dad into letting me off the hook

early.
We have to give her a chance

to earn back our trust,
she told him.

I’m pretty damn sure I’m not worthy

of that. But, hey, at least I’m free.

So When Emily Called

And said she needed a ride

somewhere, I said I’d be right

over. As much as I want to see

Dylan, he is in Stockton right now,

helping his big sister move into

a place near the University of the Pacific,

where she’ll be a freshman in

the fall. Dylan is such a sweetheart.

I’ll see him later. Right now, I’m

just happy to be out of my house,

on my own. I pull up in front of Em’s

house, text her that I’m here. Don’t want

to chance running into yet another

boyfriend. She and Clay didn’t last long.

Mostly because he never broke up with

Audrey, who still happens to be a friend

of mine (if not Em’s!), further complicating

things. Can’t people commit anymore?

Em Comes Straight Out

So there must not be a guy stashed

in her bedroom. “Hey, girl,” I say

as she slides into the passenger seat.

“What’s wrong with your car?”

She smiles.
Nothing. I just didn’t

want to take it where we’re going.

Say what? “Where are we going?

Montebello?” The heart of Reno

gangbanger turf. If she says yes,

I’m seriously changing my mind.

No, silly. Planned Parenthood. I have

a checkup so I can get on a new pill.

Unbelievable! This girl has nerve.

“Great. So now
my
car will be parked

there for all of Reno to see? I swear,

Em, if you weren’t my best friend . . .”

But I am, so it’s cool, right? Anyway,

your car isn’t as noticeable as mine.

That part is true. She drives a lemon-

yellow Camaro—
a sorry I’m never

around, but this proves I love you

car, as she puts it. “Okay, fine.

But don’t say you don’t owe me.”

I aim my unnoticeable silver Nissan

toward Planned Parenthood. While

I’m there I should make an appointment

for myself. I need to get on the pill.

But the idea of some strange doctor

touching me there creeps me out.

“So isn’t the gynecologist thing gross?”

Kind of, yeah. But . . . wait. You haven’t

done it yet? You don’t use birth control?

“Well, yeah, but you know . . .

rubbers and whatnot.” It’s the what-

not that’s kind of scary. But I don’t

feel like giving her the dirty details.

Better than nothing, I guess. But

God, be careful. Preggers would suck.

No Freaking Kidding

The parking lot is jam-packed.

I pull into a space next to another

little silver car, not much different

from mine. Unless people have

my license plate memorized,

we’re pretty much incognito.

Emily goes to check in, then sits

next to me in an ugly orange plastic

chair. There must be two dozen

women, waiting to be called in

for checkups, HIV screenings,

and other services. This is the kind

of place where you don’t look

other people in the eye. I watch

little kids run back and forth,

or play with puzzles that have

seen better days. The building

smells old so I spritz perfume.

Finally, a nurse calls Em’s name.

This shouldn’t take too long unless

I get the cute doctor.
She winks.

Disgusting and funny, all at

the same time. I pull out my

cell and text something totally

suggestive to Dylan, then start

playing SmackShot. I’m so

absorbed in just missing bull’s-

eyes that I barely notice someone

sit down next to me.
Hey, Mikki.

Long time no see.
It’s Audrey,

and she looks pretty awful. Pale.

Shaky. “Yeah, I guess it has been

a while. How’s your summer?”

Not wonderful. I, uh . . .
She looks

around. Clears her throat. Drops her

voice to a whisper.
Was pregnant.

Past Tense

Was pregnant. The words drop