Let's pick up a scene a few days later. It's been tough to get Chase away from Abby for anything longer than a few minutes — largely because he suspects Abby's hiding something. He asked you as much, and texted you to see if you could get her to open up. What did you tell him?
Regardless, the only time you were able to find her on her own was after a running practice late one afternoon after school. She just finished a few laps around the track — less than she'd normally run, but still good for someone who's hiding a pregnancy. Where were you waiting for her when she spots you and jogs over?
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I told him I'm worried about her, too. Also told him if she opened up, and he could help, I'd tell him. Promised it, even.
Of course, he can't help her with a baby.
Abs will find me sitting on the hood of my car, waiting with an In-N-Out burger in a bag, just for her. "Hey Abs. Nice running. We should jog some."
"What's up with me?" I ask, waiting for the burger moan. "I'm great, Abs, you know? But I've been trying to get you alone for days. How are you doing? Everything okay?"
She puts the burger down on the bag, and sighs, "Everything is not going Ok... Chase totally knows something is up, and my girlfriend is living in the living room of an apartment, converted into a makeshift bedroom so they can afford rent, doing porn, and I can't believe I'm considering going to live with her so this dude's friend can have a baby..." She shakes her head, "Sorry... This thing has me all hormonal... I snapped at Chase earlier today."
"It's cool, ese." I say with a shrug. Glad she's pissed at Officer Ramos. "You don't have to give him your baby, Abs. You're right, it's a world of shit. I tried to get my moms to ease up, but she's not having it." I would like to have Abs stay with me, even if she's going to be pregger-fat soon.
She looks over to you, a sad little smirk on her face, "Come with me to my locker? I've got to put my running stuff away before I go home."
"Wasn't putting me out," I say honestly. "You're like my best friend, Abby." I scoot off the hood to walk with her to her locker. "Sure. Let's go, chica."
As you round the corner into the hall leading to the garage, her face turns sour, and she waves a hand in front of her face. "Fuck dude. Did you just fart?" You don't smell anything. You do spot that weird choir kid, John Smith, down at the end of the halls by the double doors by the smoker's hideout.
I'd put up with a hormonal bitch who fucks like a superstar. At least for a while.
When she asks me if I farted, I give her a look like "What?" I heard pregnant girls get like super spidey senses and shit. Then I look down the hall and see John Smith. "Abs, it's probably him." I motion towards weird band kid.
John evidently had his eyes closed, because he looks around confused for a second, and the insult went right over his head. "Uh... Did you guys see a girl named Amandine in here a second ago?"
I look at John for a moment. "The cutter? I saw her, like, a week ago? She's here?"
Abby turns to you with a skeptical look on her face, and gives you the international symbol for "this guy's a fucking nutter." John doesn't look pleased about that, "I'm not crazy! Ok? She was right here! I swear!"
What do you do?
I quirk a little frown. "She's... she can do that. I think. Like, vanish or something. I don't know." I look at Abs, she's going to think I'm crazy, too.
Glancing around, "Yo, Mandi. You here?" I feel so fucking stupid right now.
Go here, Berto.