Free Falling Up by Melody Carlson Page A

And the four of us went to church together in Chloe's VW van. It was actually pretty cool.
    “Thanks for coming to the party with me,” Matthew told me as he dropped me at home later that morning. “I probably wouldn't have gone if you hadn't.”
    “It was fun,” I told him. “Exhausting, but fun.”
    “Yeah, I'll probably sleep all day now.”
    Then we kissed and said good-bye. But it was strange being dropped off at home after a date in the morning. I almost expected Dad to say something, although he knew what was going on, but he didn't appear to be home. I was hoping that meant he went to church. Although this would be a first for him since Mom died. Still, I've been praying for him to get back into it. Maybe that's where he is right now. Anyway, I know where I'm headed. My bed never looked so good!
    Wednesday, May 29
    I'm seriously worried about Nat. It's like she's trying to disappear off the face of the planet. I spoke to her last week, but I haven't actually seen her once this week. She hasn't wanted a ride to school. And I think she might've actually skipped some classes. Not thatteachers are paying much attention since this is the last week of school, the seniors are gone, and everyone else is acting like summer vacation has already started.
    But back to Nat. It's like she's going off the deep end. And while I know she's not my personal responsibility, she is my best friend. Yes, best friend. I've decided that even though she's not acting anything like a best friend, I still need to remain loyal to her, and I will continue to consider myself her best friend.
    And I'm pretty sure she hasn't talked to anyone else about what's bugging her, specifically the Ben thing. According to her mom, who I even called at her workplace Monday since I was so concerned, Nat has not been to see a counselor and has no intention of doing so. Poor Mrs. McCabe has just about given up.
    “I don't know what's wrong with her,” she told me, clearly exasperated. “She's even been fighting with Krissy and Micah lately. And then she holes up in her room and refuses to talk to any of us. When I call her on it, she either blows up or threatens to run away. And I was so fed up last night that I told her to just go ahead. I know that was bad on my part, but I don't know what to do with her.” She sighed loudly. “Oh, by the way, Km, how are you and your dad doing these days?”
    Of course, I acted as if things were okay, like Dad and I were just fine, moving on, getting over it. Yeah, right. But I just didn't have it in me to toss more crud on her ever-growing pile.
    “I've been meaning to bring you guys a lasagna,” she said. “I know it's kind of late, but life's been so crazy with Nat and all. Besides, I figured you'd be overwhelmed with food…at first…”
    “That's so thoughtful of you, but don't worry about it. We're fine, really.”
    So then I tried to call Nat, but she was not picking up. I considered going over and barging in on her, but I didn't want to get her all mad at me. I figure it's better to stay on her good side, or else she might not have anyone to talk to. So I sent her an e-mail, just saying that I missed her and cared about what she was going through and wanted to talk.
    Then this afternoon as I was going through letters for the column, I picked up this envelope that looked freaky familiar—it's exactly like this juvenile set of Hello Kitty stationery that I got Natalie when we were like twelve. Of course, I'm sure Nat has either used it up or thrown it away by now. But as I looked at the writing on the envelope (careful all-capped block letters that almost looked as if they'd been written to cover up the real handwriting of the sender), I was curious. I opened the envelope to find that the letter was computer printed.
    Dear Jamie,
   I think I am pregnant, and I can't talk to anyone about it. I have always thought that abortion was wrong, but now I am actually considering it, because I know that being