Free The Queen B* and the Homecoming King by Crista McHugh Page B

dress?”
    “Because one, I want to keep Summer on her toes, and two, I want to make sure you don’t embarrass me at the dance.”
    “Love you too, little sis.” I pulled up into the garage and noticed our mom’s car. “Nohot date with Pete tonight.”
    “She’s been puking so much, he probably dumped her.” Taylor grabbed her bag and went inside, but I stayed in the car, paralyzed by the implications of her flippant comment.
    What if Pete had dumped her? What if she’d gone to him last night and told him about the positive test, and he freaked out? I assumed he was my mom’s age, maybe older. What if he didn’t want todeal with a screaming baby at this point in his life?
    I flashed back on that assignment we had in Hum-Ex a few weeks ago about different stressors and how that can affect health. So far, I was having relationship issues with my new boyfriend. One of my best friends was refusing to speak to me. My other best friend was being threatened at school. And my mom was pregnant, which meant in nine monthsor so, we’d have a major chaotic disruption in our home. If I added in the fact I was almost date-raped nearly a week ago, I wondered why my immune system hadn’t crashed and burned in an epic fashion already.
    I stumbled into the kitchen, where Taylor was mixing up a Greek salad from our favorite takeout restaurant. “Where’s Mom?”
    “Upstairs.” Taylor pushed a piece of paper on the counter towardme and took her takeout container with her. “I’m hopping in the shower.”
    I read the note.
    Going to bed early. Dinner’s in the fridge. Love, Mom
    That was it. No mention of wanting to talk to us. No mention of Pete. No mention of a reason why she was in bed at an hour where she was normally still at the office.
    And for the first time in my life, I found myself worrying about my mom. What ifPete had ended things with her? What was she going to do?
    I crept upstairs and cracked open the door to her room. It was dark, but I could see the outline of my mom in the bed. The gentle rise and fall of her chest told me she was asleep, so I quietly closed the door and hid in my room the rest of the night, trying to figure out the best way to bring up the conversation I dreaded with my mom.

     

Chapter Eight
     
    With the knowledge that Summer still thought she might have a chance with Brett, I purposely chose my outfit Friday morning to silence her doubts about us.
    Brett’s team shirt.
    On game days, the entire school was encouraged to don team colors to promote Eastline pride, but I’d never participated in the ritual until now. When Brett gave me an Eastline shirt a few weeks ago,I didn’t even understand the significance of it until Morgan pointed out it was his team shirt. The front had the same logo as other school shirts, but the back had Brett’s name and number. Basically, it was one step below having his letterman’s jacket, and by wearing it, I was publicly proclaiming that we were a couple.
    It was a little big, but comfy, and I had to admit, I got a little thrillfrom wearing it.
    Thanks to Taylor’s intervention yesterday, I didn’t fear the five minutes it took to put on a little makeup and apply the smoothing serum to my hair. It didn’t change my appearance enough to proclaim that I was trying too hard, but it did add a certain polish that I had to admit I liked.
    Especially if Brett stared at my lips again like he did yesterday.
    My mom’s bedroom doorwas open, but when I went downstairs, she was already gone. I’d have to check on her later.
    Taylor, however, was waiting for me in the kitchen in a tiny cheerleading uniform that barely covered her ass, tapping her foot in impatience. She gave me the once-over and nodded, her lips rising in a mischievous smile. “I can’t wait to see Summer blow up today.”
    “You’re such a good friend.”
    “No, Ijust want to be head cheerleader, and you’re helping me get there.” She grabbed her bags and headed toward the garage