A/N: Welcome back, readers! Is it time for season two already? :D Thanks for sticking with this story!

Turning Tables

The Big Wrong

"Mom, is that – Ben!"

Ben Boykewich was seated on the edge of Adrian Lee's bed, cradling a lavender bundle, Mercy Lee, against his chest. One hand supported the infant, while the other tilted a bottle into her tiny mouth. But at the sound of Adrian's screech, Ben bounded up and the bottle crashed to the floor.

"Adrian!" he yelped, as Mercy began a stormy fit. "I'm sorry!" He turned away, shielding his eyes from the Latina, who was only dressed in her untied bathrobe. "Your mom said I could come in and I-"

Adrian scrambled to tie her bathrobe and adjust her flopping hair. "It's alright, it's okay!" She scampered across the room, picking up the bottle from the floor and setting it on her desk, then she took a seat on the bed and patted the mattress, beckoning Ben to sit beside her.

"Sorry," he said again, barely audible over Mercy's cries.

Adrian took the baby from her father and pulled back a corner of her robe, pressing the babe to her chest to breast feed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ben struggling over whether or not to turn away. "It's nothing you haven't seen before, Ben."

"Yeah, but it just…feels wrong somehow." Still, he didn't take his eyes away. "Does it, uh, hurt?"

Adrian shook her head. "There's a pressure and a tickle…it's difficult to describe, but it doesn't hurt. Some women are more sensitive than others, though." She shrugged and readjusted her daughter.

"Don't you ever run out?"

"You're so naive, Ben. It's cute, if not slightly annoying. And yes, I do 'run out,' per se, but never permanently. The more she drinks, the more I make. Or the more my body thinks she drinks," she said, pointing to the breast pump on the changing table. "That's what's in the bottles," she said, noting the slightly disturbed look on Ben's face as he shot a sideways glance at the bottle that he'd been holding when she walked out of the bathroom. "What are you over here for anyway?" she asked. "Don't you have finals this week?"

Ben nodded. "Yeah, but I wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Do you have a passport?"

"Is that a serious question?" Adrian smirked, quirking her left eyebrow. "My mother's a flight attendant with relatives in Colombia. Of course I have a passport. They have international flight discounts for employees every so often, so sometimes we go for the holidays or the summer. I went to Acapulco for my fourteenth birthday. Why?"

"I have family in Italy," he explained, handing her an opened envelope. "My uncle wrote me a few months ago." Ben smiled a little. "He invited my dad and I up there this summer, to stay at his hotel in Bologna. I wrote them back to tell them about Mercy and I got that back," he said, indicating the letter. "They've invited you and Mercy too."

Adrian examined the letter. "Ben," she said slowly. "That's – Italy! That's-"

"I understand if you don't want to," he said quickly. "For so many reasons. And, of course, Mercy only being a month old, but-"

"It's not that I don't want to, I'd love to! But – but the expense-"

Ben waved his hands excitedly. "No, no! It would be completely paid for; completely covered! The air fare, the rooms, the meals…covered!"

Adrian stood up and began to pace. "I'm flattered, Ben, but…that's so much!"

"We want you to go," Ben urged. "My family wants to meet you. And Mercy." He looked down at his shoes. "Just think about it for a couple days before you make a decision, okay? Please?"

"Alright," she relented, stopping at the bassinet. She tucked her now sleeping daughter into bed and pulled her robe tight. "I'll think about it, thanks."

Ben nodded. "I'll see you later."

"Good luck on your finals."

"Thanks."

Adrian watched Ben slip out the door and smiled, "You're welcome."

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"Is this about Abstinence Group flyers I posted on the library bulletin board?" Grace Bowman asked as she stepped into the counselor's office.

"Abstinence Group flyers?" Marc Molina asked, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Uh, no."

Grace twirled a strand of blonde hair. "Oh…okay." She sat down uncomfortable, first draping her right leg over her left and then her left over her right, before finally choosing to set both feet on the floor and rub the edge of her skirt between her fingers. "Then what is it about? I don't think I've done anything else lately that someone could've taken offense to, not that I recall anyway…"

"Offense? Grace, you're an exemplary student and one of the most well respected students in the faculty room! You have not done anything wrong."

"Then why have you called me in here?"

"I have some news."

"News?"

"Good news! Grace, you've been accepted into the Young Healers summer training program!"

Grace stared stone faced at him for several minutes, then she jumped up and practically screamed. "Oh my – oh my –" She waved her arms emphatically. "I can't believe this! I never thought I would get in! Are you serious? This is real? I've really been accepted?"

"Yes, you and one other student."

Grace stopped bouncing. "Who else?" she asked, her voice three shades brighter than usual.

"Jason Treacy. He's Sophomore, do you know him?"

"Treacy, Treacy," Grace murmured, trying to place the name. "It sounds so familiar…"

"He has a younger sister in your grade, Lauren?"

"Oh!" Grace chirped. "I didn't know Lauren had a brother! I've only met her on occasion, but I don't know her very well. I think she's one of Amy Juergens's friends, right? Oh, how exciting! I can't wait to tell my dad. My dad! He's the one who told me to sign up for this, you know! I never thought I'd get in, I didn't think they'd take a Freshman."

"It's an incredible opportunity," he said, handing her a blue folder. "This packet has all the information you'll need for the camp this summer, as well as your schedule and housing number. You'll be living, studying, and working with doctors and med students at an actual teaching hospital."

"I know, I read all about on their website! Isn't it amazing? My dad's going to go crazy!" She glanced at her watch. "We're picking him up from the airport tonight, I can't wait to tell him! Oh, Mr. Molina, can I hug you?"

Mr. Molina frowned. "I…would rather you didn't. No offense."

Grace nodded her head like a doll with a broken neck. "Right, right. Personal space, sorry! Well, thank you! Thank you so much!"

"You're the one who made the grade, not me."

"But still, thank you!" She snatched up her backpack and skipped out of the office, practically bowling over a tall, chocolate skinned young man as she left.

"Grace? I heard we're going to Med Camp together this summer, congratulations!"

"Together? Oh, you must be Jason! Yes, congratulations yourself!" Grace rattled off, almost sounding like she was singing. "I'm so excited, this is going to brilliant!"

"What group did you get for your rounds?"

Grace's brow furrowed. "What?" She noticed him looking at her blue folder and blushed. "Oh, sorry, I didn't have a chance to look through the folder yet, I just got it. Um," she reached into her purse and pulled out a pink gel when, "what's your e-mail? Maybe we can exchange notes over the next few days." She shoved her pen at him.

Jason frowned as he patted his pockets. "I don't think I have any scrap paper on me."

"Oh, uh…" Grace awkwardly shoved the palm of her hand at him. "Here."

Jason laughed and scribbled his name onto her hand in pink ink, but when Grace tried to return the favor by writing her e-mail on his hand, they realized the ink wasn't showing up as well. He laughed awkwardly. "I guess that's not going to work, is it?"

"I think your hands are too soft," Grace observed. "They're really soft. Do you use lotion or something?" Then her cheeks flushed. "Sorry, never mind, there I go again, saying things Adrian says I shouldn't…" She rolled her gray orbs. "I'll just e-mail you tonight then, okay?"

"Sounds good," Jason laughed.

"Great!"

"And Grace?"

"Yeah?"

"My hands are just naturally like that," he said with a cheeky wink.

Grace turned away with a giggle, her face flushing as she skipped off to find her first class.

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"That's a wrap, folks! I hope I'll be seeing each and every one of you at band camp again this summer!"

Ricky Underwood twirled his drumsticks between his fingers like batons before slipping them into his back pocket and making a beeline for the band room ahead of the other students. When he got to the cubbies he noticed that Amy Juergens was already there and briefly wondered how she'd beaten him there. He watched her for a moment, then shook his head and grabbed his backpack from one of the cubbies.

"Hey."

Startled, the backpack slipped between his fingers and landed on his foot. "Shit!" he cursed, as a few other band members trickled in. He pulled his foot out and hopped around, glaring. "What?"

Amy shrugged as she pulled her French Horn case door. "Just saying hi, that's all."

"Why would you say hi to me?" he glared.

"You…" Amy absently stroked the writing on her instrument case. "…looked like you could use it."

"I could've used a lay last summer too," he retorted, voice like ice.

Amy swallowed uneasily and looked down at her sneakers. "And if I'd said yes, maybe we'd have been going through what Ben and Adrian went through."

"Ben, Adrian, and I," he corrected. "I'm the one who came out of this with nothing to show for it."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not. You're just happy it's not you. You skipped out on Ben the way you, what? Skipped out on the last twenty minutes of band today?"

"That's not fair! I never – you know what? I'm sorry I said anything to you, Ricky! You're still the same arrogant jerk who tried to get under my skirt at band camp. And – and you know what I think? You're just angry I'm not still with Ben, because you think that somehow if I was still with him, then you could be with Adrian! You're pathetic."

Ricky watched her blow out of the band room, practically leaving a trail of steam in her wake. He noticed a few people around him staring and threw up his arms. "What you are looking out? Get out!" Once he was alone, he punched the cross section of one of the cubbies and the board toppled, cracking in two as it hit the ground.

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Adrian twisted the knob on her bedroom door in response to the knock she'd just heard. She blinked in surprise when she found Ashley Juergens on the other side. "Ashley! What are you doing here?" The Latina stepped aside, motioning in the younger girl.

"My dad brought me over," Ashley replied, glancing cautiously around the room.

"No offense, but…why?"

"I never got a chance to come see you in the hospital." She shrugged, eyeing the bassinet. "Is that…"

"Yeah," Adrian grinned. "You wanna see her?"

The younger girl nodded slowly and followed Adrian to the bassinet, where she peered over and eyed the sleeping babe. "She's pretty."

"Thank you."

"I, um, I don't see much of Ben in her."

"Well she's definitely Ben's," Adrian nodded.

"Yeah, I heard." Ashley stroked the edge of the bassinet with her finger. "Congratulations." She scuffed her heels together unconsciously. "So, I just wanted to let you know that I passed English."

"Congratulations yourself!"

"I got an A. On my essay. And a B in the class. So, that means I'll be going to Grant High next year after all."

"I guess we'll be seeing more of each other then."

"I guess so." Ashley looked down at the baby again. "The divorce is almost finalized."

"'Scuse me?"

"My parents' divorce," she repeated. "It'll be finalized in a couple weeks."

"I heard. I – I'm sorry."

"I guess that won't change things much over here, right? I mean, my dad is already pretty much living here. Unless you're all planning to move or something."

"No, definitely not. My mom's lived with boyfriends – uh, people – before, and it's never worked out well. Never again. Not unless she got married and at this point, I don't think that will ever happen."

"Oh."

Adrian sat down on her bed. "What about you?" she asked. "What's your…mom planning on doing?"

"She's keeping the house," Ashley nodded. "Dad's keeping the store. I guess it'll pretty much be like how the last several years of their marriage were."

"Right." Adrian looked across the room, avoiding Ashley's eyes. "So, any plans this summer?"

"I'm spending the summer with my grandma. You?"

"I," Adrian shrugged. "I'm not sure yet. I was thinking about taking a trip."

"A trip?"

"With Ben, he invited me," she smiled. "I don't know yet. Mercy's still so young though, I'm not sure if it would be wise." A knock sounded at the door again and Adrian looked up. "Come in!"

George poked his head in. "It didn't sound like there was much noise back here," he observed. "I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing."

"We were just talking," Ashley informed him.

"Well we gotta get going," George nodded. "I told Donovan and Leon we'd meet them at the store and I'm already running late."

"As usual," Adrian smirked.

"Shh!"

Ashley laughed. "She's right though." She lifted her hand. "Bye, Adrian. Bye…Mercy."

Adrian waved to them as the door shut and then scooted across the bed so she could see over the edge of the bassinet. "How would you like to go to Italy with Mommy and Daddy? Would you like that? Mommy is thinking she might like that…"

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"You'll never guess what happened to me today!" Grace gushed from the backseat, as her mother, Kathleen Bowman, and older brother, Tom Bowman, sat up front, the former with a little smile on her lips, while the latter rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"What happened, Grace?" Kathleen humored her.

Grace bounced up and down against her seatbelt. "I want to wait for dad to get here before I tell you." She shook her hands excitedly. "You won't even believe this. You really won't!"

Tom snorted and looked at his sister from the rearview mirror. "What?" he glared. "You ha' sex?"

"Tom!" Grace gasped.

Tom shrugged indignantly. "What?" he retorted. "I woul'n't believe it."

"And you wouldn't need to, because I would never have sex before marriage," Grace spouted back, glaring into the rearview mirror. She crossed her arms in a huff and leaned back into the seat. "When is Dad's plane supposed to land anyway?"

Kathleen eyed her wristwatch. "Not for another fifteen minutes, at least."

"Can't they fly any faster?" Grace pouted.

"They'll be here before you know it," Kathleen promised. She chuckled. "That must be some really good news you're sitting on back there, Gracie."

"You have no idea!" The cheerleader pulled out her cell phone and began to type of a text message.

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The cell phone on the kitchen table began to vibrate, but Adrian ignored it as she walked into the kitchen to find her mother tying up a bulky white trash bag, stuffed to the seams. She waved her hand in front of her nose. "That's rancid!"

Cindy cupped her hand to her mouth. "It's all those dirty diapers," she frowned. Suddenly she closed her eyes. "I'll be right back!" she yelped, before darting off in the direction of the bathroom.

Adrian sighed as she grabbed the bag by the yellow drawstrings and hauled it out into the hallway, heading for the dumpster. As she got outside, however, the bag had other ideas, and the plastic peeled back as if it were being touched by a hot flame and trash spilled out in front of her. Dirty diapers, banana peels, TV dinner boxes, toilet paper rolls, empty shampoo bottles, a milk carton that looked like it had a tiny bit of milk still inside which had started to curdle, and way too many dirty tissues coalesced around her feet.

"¡Mierda!" she cursed, abandoning the broken bag to run back inside to get two new bags and a pair of rubber gloves. When she returned, she pulled her shirt up over her nose and bent down, picking up the fallen trash piece by piece before dropping it into the fresh trash bag. When she was done, she sealed up the first bag and then opened the second and carefully picked up the broken bag and tried to drop it into the second. She was nearly successful, until one last piece of trash fell out while she was making the transfer. She knew what it was immediately: an early home pregnancy test! Looking around, she saw no one, so she carefully picked up the box and opened the end, her gloved hands shaking as she shook the white stick out of the box and turned it over to see the results.

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The sunlight was bouncing off glass that covered a picture of Ben holding Mercy in the hospital, set inside the silver picture frame Alice and Henry had given him the night of Mercy's birth, which sat pristinely on Ben's bedside table. Ben walked out of his bathroom to find his father seated on the edge of his bed. "Good morning," he greeted cheerfully.

"It's morning," Leo Boykewich said gruffly. "But not a good one."

Ben's face fell. "Something wrong at the office?" he asked, racking his brain to figure out what could be wrong.

"It's not that," Leo replied, shaking his head. "Everything at the office is fine…but, Ben, I don't know how to tell you this-"

"Dad, whatever it is, just say it."

"I just got some sad news, Ben."

Ben looked at the photo by his bed. "Mercy?" he asked instinctively.

"Not Mercy," Leo said, shaking his head.

Ben touched his chest, heaving a sigh of relief.

"There's been a plane crash."

Ben opened his mouth, closed it again, and then shook his head. "No! Dad, it couldn't be, you have to be mistaken! Cindy wasn't on a flight this week, she's off, I know she's off!" He rushed to grab the cell phone on his dress, ready to speed dial Adrian until Leo grabbed his hands. "Dad, let me go, I need to call Adrian!"

"It's not Cindy," Leo said, shaking his head.

The phone fell from Ben's hands. "If – if it's not Cindy, then who?"

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Alone in her bed, Grace was wadded up in her pink sheets. Her blonde hair was matted and tangled up around her red, tear streaked face, and she kept rolling back and forth, sobbing into her wet pillows. "D – d – da – dd – y…" she whimpered, interspersed with sobs and stuffy sniffles. Her fingers periodically clenched around masses of sheet or pillow case as her whole body seized with sobs, then she would gasp and cough, as though she were having an asthma attack before settling back down into quiet sobs again.