Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Whatever. I go to the kitchen, rummage
around in the fridge for something
that looks appetizing. What I’m craving
is fruit. But no sign of peaches or
strawberries or watermelon. Only
some lunch meat, a hunk of aging cheese
that has def seen better days. Yogurt.
Out of date. “Damn it, Mom. When
was the last time you went to the store?”
What’s wrong?
It’s Bri, come to
fight me for the meager food supply.
I think there’s stuff in the freezer.
She watches me wade through
frozen waffles—crusted with ice.
Meatball sandwiches—upchuck food.
Frozen Chinese. Frozen Italian.
I start tossing stuff into the sink.
Into the trash. I empty the refrigerator.
Start on the freezer. Out of control,
but so what? “Not a single fucking
edible thing! Thanks for nothing.”
Bri’s eyes go wide and she yells,
Just because you’re pregnant
doesn’t mean you get to be a bitch!
She Knows!
Now Mom Notices
Trace
What happened to my family
when I wasn’t looking? Too
busy playing video games,
and apparently paying
no
attention to the weirdness.
I pride myself on my ability
to grasp the tiniest details of
news
no one wants to share.
How, then, can my sister
be pregnant and thinking
about a procedure that
is
obviously not what she wants
to do? I could see that in
her eyes. That, and fear. It’s
good
that she’s afraid. But, hey,
Mom promised me drivers’
training if I keep quiet
about this unhappy
news
and don’t share it with Dad
for now. Booyah! Score.
Shane
Of my junior year, and everything
feels different. Incredible. I won’t
see Alex at school. He’s still at
Manogue, though he tried to talk
his parents into public school for
his last semester. They insisted
he finish out in college prep mode.
You’d think they would have jumped
at the idea. Catholic high school
college prep costs an arm and a leg,
or maybe even two of each. Oh, well.
Doesn’t matter. Alex and I are attached,
heart to heart. Last Sunday, he came
to the door, holding a teensy white kitten.
Look what I found. Someone dumped
her off in the sage next to my house.
I’d keep her, but we already have
three cats. Can you take her?
I almost said no. We’ve never
had pets. Too worried about Shelby
and dander. But I swear that kitten
looked me in the eye and begged,
“Please?” Okay, it was more like
Mew,
but she aimed that little entreaty
straight at me. “I don’t have any
food or a doo-doo box, or anything.”
Alex grinned.
I stopped by Petco
on the way over.
He offered the kitten
to me like the best gift ever. As
soon as I touched her silky fur,
I was hooked. I’ve been hiding
Gaga in my room ever since.
It’s been two days. So far, so good.
It’s like she knows she has to be quiet.
New Boyfriend, New Kitten
New car. Well, it’s a used car,
but it’s new to me. Dad finally
helped me get my license. Then
he took me to the Kia dealer
and helped me pick out
a previously owned Sportage.
You want an all-wheel drive
around here, and Kias have
a great track record,
he said.
The AWD is nice. But the car
is really sharp. Red. Black interior,
neat as a pin, except for a few
fast-food wrappers—all on me.
Even if it was a piece of junk,
though, it’s mine. If I had money
for gas, I could get in it and
just keep driving. Next summer,
I think I’ll do that. Take a road
trip somewhere I’ve only seen
in pictures. The Grand Canyon.
Disneyland. Seattle, maybe.
Wonder how Gaga would
like riding in a car. Wonder
if Alex and I will still be together
then. I can’t imagine us breaking
up. But his parents are pressuring
him to choose a college. Hopefully
Ivy League. I’ll be here, he’ll be