Anything but Normal (14 page)
Halloween party for their babies. Why babies needed a Halloween party was a mystery to Sophie. But maybe it was for the moms. Anyway, it provided a good opportunity for Sophie to get her interviews done.
“You’re back,” Serena said.
Sophie nodded. “We have an appointment, remember?”
“I remember. But I figured you might just forget. Most kids try to avoid this place like they think we have some disease that’s catching.”
“Is that really how you feel?” Sophie turned on the mini recorder as they sat down in Mrs. Manchester’s office.
“It’s how we all feel. Like we have the plague or something.” She rubbed her oversized stomach, then shook her head. “I promise you it’s not contagious. But you do catch it from a boy.” She laughed.
“Right.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is, really. I mean, you sleep with a guy and you get pregnant. I guess it’s just a problem because I’m still in high school.”
“Do you plan to graduate?”
Serena frowned. “I don’t know for sure.”
“What year are you?”
“Just a sophomore.”
Sophie tried not to act shocked. “Oh.”
“I know, I know. It sounds hopeless. My mama is furious at me for doing this to her.”
“To her?”
“Well, yeah, that’s how she puts it. Like I went and got myself knocked up just to punish her or something. It wasn’t like that.”
“No, I didn’t think so.”
“Anyway, she keeps telling me that I got no business wanting to keep my baby when I don’t even have a high school diploma. Like she thinks she’s going to have to support me and my son for the rest of her life.”
“Your son?”
“Yeah. It’s a boy. I told his daddy that I have a feeling he’s gonna look just like him.” She pulled up her shirt to show off an enormous belly. “See how big I am? His daddy is six foot four. You know Reggie Grant, the senior, varsity basketball?”
“He’s your boyfriend?”
“Well, he ain’t my boyfriend no more.”
“You broke up?”
“Yeah, you could say that.”
“What happened?”
“He dumped me.” She shook her head. “As soon as he heard I was pregnant, he went running the other way.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah . . . me too.” To Sophie’s relief, Serena pulled her shirt back down. “Now he’s dating Chelsea Walters.”
“That must be rough.”
“Yeah . . . but I probably don’t want to go there right now. Not with that thing on anyway.” She nodded toward the recorder. “By the way, Mrs. Manchester said you could use fake names in your article.”
“You want me to do that?”
“Yeah. Please.”
Sophie asked about a dozen more questions and finally thanked Serena for her honesty.
“You won’t make me sound like an idiot, will you?”
“That’s not my goal. But I do want to write this honestly. I mean, it’s possible that some girl might learn something by reading your story.”
“Like not to let her boyfriend pressure her into sex?”
“Yeah.”
“And to use protection if he does?”
Sophie just nodded. She wasn’t sure she wanted to go there.
Serena stood and rubbed her back. “Want me to send in the next girl?”
“Thanks.” Sophie looked down at her notes. “Natasha Lebkowski.”
“Oh yeah. That Natasha gal. She’s a real piece of work.”
“You don’t like her?”
“She don’t give anyone the chance to like her.”
“Oh.”
When Natasha came into the room, Sophie knew this girl had a serious attitude. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her face, while pretty, looked strained and angry. Sophie introduced herself and extended her hand.
But Natasha ignored the gesture. Instead, she sat down, folded her arms over her rounded midsection, and just glared at Sophie.
“So . . .” Sophie began carefully, “you seem unhappy.”
“You got that right.”
“Any particular reason?”
“I’m looking at her.”
Sophie blinked. “I’m surprised you agreed to be interviewed then.”
“I agreed to be interviewed for one reason.”
“And that is?”
“To set you straight.”
“Okay.” Sophie nodded. “Go for it.”
“You don’t know me.”
“That’s true.”
“And yet you feel qualified to write about me—about girls like me—as if you know what we’re going through and how we got to this place. You point your finger and pass your judgments, and your head is up your—”
“Look, I’m sorry I wrote that opinion piece, okay?”
“Sure, you can say that now. But isn’t that kind of like pulling the trigger and then saying, ‘Oops, I’m sorry’? Some bullets can’t be retracted.”
Sophie nodded. “You’re right.”
“Do you honestly think I made the choice to be here? To be pregnant? To be humiliated by girls like you? To be stuck in this—”
“Just a minute.” Sophie held up a finger. “Are you saying you didn’t make the choice to have sex? Like this is some kind of immaculate conception or virgin birth?” The truth was, Sophie wished she could use that excuse for herself.
“No, you moron.” Natasha narrowed her dark eyes. “It’s not immaculate conception. But I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what you decide to write in your stupid article. Might get a laugh too. Kids like to laugh at us. Don’t think we don’t hear it.”
“I’m sure you do hear it.” Sophie felt like her head was spinning. Natasha was smart. Almost too smart. And she was saying just the kinds of things that Sophie didn’t really want to hear.
“You asked me about choice,” Natasha continued. “Well, sometimes it’s not about choice. Have you ever heard of date rape?”
Sophie tried not to look shocked. “Is that what happened?” “Yes.” Natasha nodded.
“Did you press charges?”
Natasha just looked away.
“Did you?”
“No, of course not. I’m not a fool.”
“But why? Why didn’t you?”
“Do you have any idea what happens when you press charges for date rape?”
Sophie considered this. “I suppose I can imagine.”
“Well, imagine this. The boy is a friend of my parents. His dad plays golf with my dad. He’s in an Ivy League school. It’s his word against mine.”
Sophie leaned forward. “So what’s he doing about it now? Is he taking responsibility for—”
“Oh, sure. His parents are paying the bills. Terrence admitted that we’d had sex. Of course, he made it look like I had seduced him!” She swore.
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, don’t be,” she snapped. “Be glad.”
“Glad?”
“That you’re not me. That you still have your life ahead of you.”
Suddenly Sophie felt like she couldn’t get her breath, like the room was beginning to spin. She closed her eyes and tried to think. Why had she come here? Why was she talking to this girl? Was she just a glutton for punishment or what?
“Are you okay?”
Sophie opened her eyes to see Natasha staring at her with concern. “Sorry.”
“Are you sick or something?”
“I just got dizzy.”
“Maybe it’s low blood sugar.” Natasha reached for her bag. Sophie wasn’t an expert, but it looked like an expensive bag. In fact, everything about Natasha, despite her simple clothing, seemed to suggest this girl came from money. Natasha pulled out a bag of hard caramels and handed it to Sophie. “I get it sometimes. This helps.”
Sophie nodded as she unwrapped the candy and popped it in her mouth.
“We can end this interview now,” Natasha said. “If you want.”
“Can I ask a few more questions?”
“If you can take the answers.”
“Well, this isn’t a hard one. You don’t seem familiar.”
“That’s because I went to Maxwell. They don’t have a pregnancy center there. Not that they don’t need one.”
“But they act like they don’t?”
“Bingo.” She kind of laughed. “They send their
disappointments
to Brewster. It keeps Maxwell looking good.”
“So, did you consider having an abortion?”
“Oh yeah.”
“And?”
“I couldn’t do it.”
“Is it for religious reasons?”
“Nope.”
“Do you mind saying why? I mean, some pro-life people use rape as one of the justifiable reasons for abortion.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“So . . . ?”
“The truth is, I didn’t think I was pregnant at first. It seemed impossible. I mean, who gets pregnant on their first time?”
“It was your first time?”
Natasha looked down at her lap and nodded.
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Oh . . . Okay, so you considered abortion but decided against it?”
She nodded again. “If I had known that there was any chance I was pregnant, I would’ve gotten that next-day pill.”
“If you’d reported the rape, they probably would’ve given it to you.”
“I know.”
“So, are you sorry you didn’t report the crime and go in for an examination . . . and the next-day pill?”
“Sure. I’m sorry I went out with Terrence too. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”
“So . . . what will happen after the birth of your baby?”
“You mean, am I keeping the baby?”
“Yes.”
“Probably not.”
“Probably?”
“Well, my mom is being very weird about the whole thing.” “How so?”
“Naturally she was really upset. Like, how could I do this to her?”
“Did you tell her the truth? I mean, about the date rape?” “No.”
“Why not?”
“What would be the point?”
“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted.
“So, after my mom recovered from the shock—by the way, my dad is still not speaking to me.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah, Daddy’s girl let him down.”
“I understand.”
“Sure you do.” Natasha narrowed her eyes with skepticism. “But anyway, once Mom got over it, she started to get this whacked-out idea that Terrence and I would get married eventually. And in the meantime, she’s acting like she’s going to be the happy grandma.”
“Oh, wow.”
“Yeah. Wow.”
“So how do you feel about it?”
“I think I’ll let the baby be adopted.”
“And your mom?”
“She’ll probably be ticked.”
“Pregnancy really messes up your life.”
Natasha laughed with sarcasm. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Sophie was tempted tell her everything. But she didn’t. Instead she just asked a few more questions, thanked her, and then interviewed the last girl. Her name was Leah, and her story was different from the other two. She was a quiet senior who was still with her boyfriend. He had graduated last year and was working in a factory. They were going to get married at Christmas, and they would keep their child and “live happily ever after.”
“That seems a lot to take on,” Sophie said finally.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Leah assured Sophie. “We knew we wanted to get married. It’s just a little earlier than we’d planned.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“What is?”
Sophie considered this as she walked to her car. What was easy? She couldn’t even remember.
“What do you mean you’re not coming tonight?” Carrie Anne’s brow creased.
“I mean I’m not coming.” Sophie unlocked her car, threw in her bag, then turned to face her friend.
“But you
always
come to the church harvest party.”
They’d met in the school parking lot. Because of the interviews, Sophie had gotten out of school the same time as the rest of the students. But now she was tired, and since there wasn’t yearbook on Fridays, she just wanted to go home and sleep.
“It’s been a long day,” Sophie told Carrie Anne.
“Are you coming with us, Carrie Anne?” Kelsey called.
“I guess so.” Carrie Anne frowned at Sophie. “Since my best friend is such a party pooper.”
“Sorry.”
Carrie Anne stared at Sophie with a serious expression. “You’re changing, you know?”
Sophie felt a jolt of fear rush through her. What was Carrie Anne saying? “What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re different.” Carrie Anne continued to stare. “Because I don’t want to go to the kiddy party at church?” “See?” Carrie Anne pointed a finger at her.
“See what?”
“You used to love the harvest party and anything that had to do with church. Now you don’t. See, you’ve changed.”
Kelsey, Jenny, and Hannah were coming toward them.
“No,” Sophie said quickly, “I haven’t changed. I’m just tired. Here’s the deal. Let me go home and take a nap, and then I’ll meet you guys at the harvest party. Okay?”
Carrie Anne didn’t look convinced.
“What’s up?” Jenny asked as she and the others joined them.
“Sophie needs to go home and have a wittle nappie,” Carrie Anne said in a baby voice.
“Oh, poor thing,” Kelsey teased. “Doing a full day at school wore you out?”
“Whatever.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m tired, okay?”
“Maybe you’ve got mono,” Jenny said. “I heard it’s going around.”
“You have to kiss someone to get mono,” Kelsey pointed out. “And that’s obviously not happening to this girl.”
“Thanks a lot.” Sophie made a face.
“I don’t know.” Jenny giggled. “Wes sticks pretty close to her.”
“Hey, you guys can stand here and discuss my love life, or the lack thereof, until the cows come home. In the meantime, I’m going to take a nap.”
“I’ll bet she does have mono,” Hannah said as Sophie got into her car.
Sophie just smiled, waved, and slowly backed out of the parking lot. She could imagine what they were saying about her. Not necessarily mean things, since she was their friend and they were Christians, but she knew they talked differently about people when they weren’t around to hear. She also knew that unless she wanted to get them really speculating about her, she needed to show up at the harvest party as well as the other church activities she’d been skipping out on. The problem was that it was hard to be around all that—sermons, discussions, Bible studies, prayer requests—when she felt like such a hypocrite. It wasn’t that she’d totally abandoned her faith. It was simply that she and God weren’t exactly on speaking terms lately.
She knew that God was gracious and loving and kind—at least, she knew this in her head. She also knew that if she confessed her sins, he would forgive her and make her clean. The problem was that he wouldn’t make her unpregnant. He wouldn’t undo what she had done. And she knew that if she took these steps with God, she would probably have to take them with her family and friends too. That was usually how it worked. Christians were supposed to confess their sins not only to God but to each other. And she just couldn’t do that.