A/N - I'm so terrible! I haven't updated in awhile, and this is a short chapter. Feel free to slap me on the wrist! I will update again hopefully by Wednesday. So I was hoping I could come up with some major plot twist, so that this story would be an actual story with the climax and conclusion and everything, but it's not looking like it will be. Probably just cute and simple from here on out. I know, it's sort of disappointing, and I apologize...but I don't want to just abandon the fic. If you've got suggestions for a twist or anything, please let me know! Thanks for sticking with this dwindling story!!! =)
He held his breath as he crept across the floor into her room. The light spilled in from the hallway through her slightly ajar door, which he'd left open behind him, illuminating her sleeping figure. Her hair was fanned out across the pillow, and one arm was lying across it, bent over her head, as if she were a ballerina. The other arm was drawn over her ribs. Her blanket had slid off onto the floor. He studied her for a moment, feeling saddened and blessed by her childlike beauty. His gaze fell on her stomach. Her old tee-shirt no longer covered it, and it curved out from under it just enough for anyone suspicious to verify that she was with child. A tear rolled down his cheek. He sighed quietly, hoping he wouldn't wake her, and retreated.
The next morning, when Joan awoke, she noticed something sitting on her chair. She slowly rose from her bed, and went over to see what it was. It was one of her dad's old tee-shirts, the one from his police academy days, that Joan had always liked as a little girl. He never wore it anymore. As Joan picked it up, a note fluttered down from it. She squatted (the doctor had said bending was bad for the baby), and retrieved it. It said:
I thought the two of you could use this to keep warm at night. Seems you've outgrown yours. You're not a little girl anymore. I'm sorry I've been so awful, please keep understanding, and know that I love you.
-Dad
Joan trudged into school, head down, her hair falling in her face.
"Hey Jane," Adam said, taking her hand as she approached his locker. Grace leaned on the neighboring locker, sneering at anyone who stared at Joan and snickered.
"Hi," Joan said meekly, hoping her stomach would allow her to make it through English Literature free of interruption.
The bell rang, and Grace and Adam headed off to their first class, Trig. Joan ambled off to her classroom. As she walked down the hall, she noticed a pretty blonde girl at the drinking fountain.
"Hi Joan," the girl said brightly, leaning up and wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
"So am I supposed to make friends with this Avery girl, or what?" she asked impatiently.
The girl frowned in confusion.
"Supposed to make friends with me?" she asked. "Um, no...I just...your Mom told me about you, I hope you don't mind..."
Joan's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as she realized she had mistook the real Avery for God. Her shame promptly shifted to annoyance.
"Actually, I sort of do. Mind, I mean. It wasn't her place to talk about me," Joan said, shrugging with false apathy.
The girl smiled faintly.
"I know, I'm sorry. It's pretty much my fault, though. Your mom was asking me if everything was all right, and I just gave her this whole sob story. She probably felt obligated to tell me about you. But I'd never tell anybody."
"Everybody already knows," Joan scoffed.
"I didn't," Avery pointed out.
Joan shot a glance at the clock on the wall.
"Look," she said. "I'm going to be late for class, so-"
"Hey," Avery interrupted, almost urgently. "Um, maybe you wanna hang out sometime? I mean, it'd be great to have someone to talk to who actually knows, you know?"
Joan considered this, and decided Avery was right.
"Okay, sure," she answered.
Avery's face lit up. "Great," she replied. "Let's talk during lunch, okay?"
Joan nodded, and the girls split. Joan was hoping Lunch Lady God would be serving the mashed potatoes today.
He held his breath as he crept across the floor into her room. The light spilled in from the hallway through her slightly ajar door, which he'd left open behind him, illuminating her sleeping figure. Her hair was fanned out across the pillow, and one arm was lying across it, bent over her head, as if she were a ballerina. The other arm was drawn over her ribs. Her blanket had slid off onto the floor. He studied her for a moment, feeling saddened and blessed by her childlike beauty. His gaze fell on her stomach. Her old tee-shirt no longer covered it, and it curved out from under it just enough for anyone suspicious to verify that she was with child. A tear rolled down his cheek. He sighed quietly, hoping he wouldn't wake her, and retreated.
The next morning, when Joan awoke, she noticed something sitting on her chair. She slowly rose from her bed, and went over to see what it was. It was one of her dad's old tee-shirts, the one from his police academy days, that Joan had always liked as a little girl. He never wore it anymore. As Joan picked it up, a note fluttered down from it. She squatted (the doctor had said bending was bad for the baby), and retrieved it. It said:
I thought the two of you could use this to keep warm at night. Seems you've outgrown yours. You're not a little girl anymore. I'm sorry I've been so awful, please keep understanding, and know that I love you.
-Dad
Joan trudged into school, head down, her hair falling in her face.
"Hey Jane," Adam said, taking her hand as she approached his locker. Grace leaned on the neighboring locker, sneering at anyone who stared at Joan and snickered.
"Hi," Joan said meekly, hoping her stomach would allow her to make it through English Literature free of interruption.
The bell rang, and Grace and Adam headed off to their first class, Trig. Joan ambled off to her classroom. As she walked down the hall, she noticed a pretty blonde girl at the drinking fountain.
"Hi Joan," the girl said brightly, leaning up and wiping her lips with the back of her hand.
"So am I supposed to make friends with this Avery girl, or what?" she asked impatiently.
The girl frowned in confusion.
"Supposed to make friends with me?" she asked. "Um, no...I just...your Mom told me about you, I hope you don't mind..."
Joan's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, as she realized she had mistook the real Avery for God. Her shame promptly shifted to annoyance.
"Actually, I sort of do. Mind, I mean. It wasn't her place to talk about me," Joan said, shrugging with false apathy.
The girl smiled faintly.
"I know, I'm sorry. It's pretty much my fault, though. Your mom was asking me if everything was all right, and I just gave her this whole sob story. She probably felt obligated to tell me about you. But I'd never tell anybody."
"Everybody already knows," Joan scoffed.
"I didn't," Avery pointed out.
Joan shot a glance at the clock on the wall.
"Look," she said. "I'm going to be late for class, so-"
"Hey," Avery interrupted, almost urgently. "Um, maybe you wanna hang out sometime? I mean, it'd be great to have someone to talk to who actually knows, you know?"
Joan considered this, and decided Avery was right.
"Okay, sure," she answered.
Avery's face lit up. "Great," she replied. "Let's talk during lunch, okay?"
Joan nodded, and the girls split. Joan was hoping Lunch Lady God would be serving the mashed potatoes today.