Free What Every Girl (except me) Knows by Nora Raleigh Baskin Page B

know,” Lynette said.
    “What?” I kept rubbing around in one spot.
    “I was in an incubator right after I was born, and the doctor forgot to turn on the air for a couple of seconds,” Lynette said. “I know the story about the truck, but that’s all it is—a story.” She was talking fast now.
    I looked around to see if anyone was listening to this. Only Mrs. Drummond was still in the room, at her desk, bent over in concentration. The second bell was about to ring.
    “That’s the truth.” Lynette seemed desperate.
    “Oh, well that’s okay,” I said, quickly grabbing my knapsack. “We better get going.”
    “I thought you’d understand. I thought you’d want to know the truth,” Lynette said. Her face held a puzzled look.
    “I’m sorry but…the bell’s gonna ring.” I started to leave. I didn’t think I wanted to hear any more.

Chapter 20
    It was the start of Thanksgiving vacation. Taylor was going to spend it at her dad’s. I couldn’t help being a little glad to hear the sadness in her voice when Taylor told me. I was going to miss her, too, and it’s so much better to miss someone who’s also missing you. We weren’t going to be able to talk on the phone for almost a week.
    I had no idea what my family was doing for Thanksgiving. When Taylor asked me, I told her we always had Thanksgiving at home. But when I thought about it, with Cleo in the picture, I really wasn’t sure.
    No one was home when I got off the bus. There was a note from my dad that he had to go to the college for a department meeting. I didn’t know where Ian was. I found myself more than half-wanting and half-expecting Cleo to be home.
    As far as I was concerned, Cleo was totally moved in. She had moved the colander in the kitchen from the dish cabinet to the pot cabinet, and the can opener from the place-mat drawer to the wooden-spoon drawer. She never spent more than one night back at her place anymore.
    My dad’s bathroom was more filled with her things than his own. This, I loved. When Cleo wasn’t around I liked to poke around and touch her stuff. She had a pink razor and tampons, lip gloss and nail-polish remover, a wooden hairbrush and ladies’ deodorant. And a bottle of something called Woolite under the sink. I was considering looking through Cleo’s stuff again, since she wasn’t home, maybe trying out her razor on my legs, in a spot no one would see.
    But first, I’d get myself something to eat in the kitchen. I sat at the table with a box of Goldfish crackers and some juice. I stared out the window for a while and listened for the sound of a car over the gravel driveway; Cleo’s car or my dad’s car.
    That’s when I felt it.
    I felt like I was peeing in my pants. In fact, that’s what I first thought—I thought I was peeing in my pants, so I just got up and went to the bathroom. I leaned way over as I sat down, so I saw two little drops of red fall into the toilet.
    This was it. Oh, my God.
    This was it.
    It. I wanted to scream for someone.
    But no one was home. For the first half an hour I ran around the house, excited and nervous. I calmed down long enough to get out my journal—Book Two—and write everything down. But I wanted so badly to tell someone. It wouldn’t be real till I told someone.
    I even tried calling Taylor, but I got her machine. I knew I would, since she said she was leaving right after school. It wasn’t the kind of message you leave on an answering machine. So I just hung up.
    The second half hour, I settled down and tried to read a book I had to read for English, but I couldn’t concentrate.
    By the time they got home, the excitement had worn off and I was too embarrassed to say anything.
    “What?” Cleo asked me. “What is it?” She followed me into my room when I asked her to. I hoped she would have figured it out already, so I wouldn’t have to say it. But I had to say something, because I was using a folded-up paper towel and walking with my legs squeezed together