A/N: The next chapter (or episode) in this little experimental saga. I hope anyone who's been reading so far will continue to do so. Enjoy! (Oh, and I almost forgot, the title of this story was inspired by Nickelback's song, "Someday." Specifically, for those who haven't heard it, "How the hell did we end up like this? Why weren't we able, to see the signs that we missed? And try and turn the tables!")

Turning Tables

You Are My Nothing

The decision was simple, because there was no decision. She would have an abortion. It was as straightforward as that. It was her right, her body, and her future. A baby would not come between that. Adrian had her entire future laid out in front of her: her mother had worked tirelessly for years to save up for four years of Adrian's post-high school education and Adrian had worked equally as hard to make sure she had the grade to make up for anything above and beyond that. It was not all going to be in vain.

As much as she wanted the wretched mistake rid from her body, she decided to wait a week, until Friday. She wanted the weekend to recuperate from the procedure. It was a medical procedure, after all, and just because it wasn't your typical medical procedure like a wisdom tooth extraction or getting ones tonsils removed, didn't mean that she wouldn't need rest, especially if she happened to fall into that tiny percentage of women where something went wrong. So as much as it pained her to walk around school for another week, pretending that she wasn't carrying half of someone else's mistake inside of her, she decided this way would benefit her best.

On Monday morning, with nothing better to do, Adrian poised herself beside the soda machine, a perfect perch to people watch. In the month-and-a-half since school had started, a good many things had taken place. It happened every year: couples got together, couples broke up, people cheated, and so on and so forth. Within ten minutes of one another, two examples of such passed by, going in opposite directions.

The first was Amy and Ben. She was dressed in a cheery little green and fruity red outfit, which made Adrian think she looked like a watermelon with hair. Amy strolled next to Ben, giggling and chatting as he carried her books and her French Horn. They'd officially become a couple two weeks prior, but they'd been dating since the dance at the Youth Fellowship Hall and it was a regular sight to see him carry her things down every morning. It made Adrian want to vomit.

The second was Grace and the jock, who Adrian had come to know as Jack. The latter was chased the former down the hall: "Please! Please! Please! Grace, come on! Please talk to me!"

Adrian leaned her head against the soda machine. It was a familial pantomime, one that she usually had something to do with. Usually. The last month-and-a-half had been a strange one for her. Ever since she'd hooked up with Ricky, she hadn't wanted to screw anyone else. In the back of her mind, she nagged at herself for going soft, but the truth was, he was good and she didn't want to go back to lesser quality sex if she didn't have to. Sure she still flirted and fooled around to keep up appearances – especially when Ricky was still screwing other girls and trying to get under Grace Bowman's skirt – but she suspected that he, too, kept coming back to her for a reason.

So in this instance, with Grace and Jack, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she had not been involved in their disastrous downfall. Actually, the problem had stemmed from Amy's little redhead friend, gossipy Madison. Well, Madison and Ricky. Jack had accused Grace on multiple occasions of flirting with him, to which she vehemently denied, and obviously he hadn't believed her, because he began flirting with little Madison, which eventually lead to them kissing – who initiated it, Adrian didn't know – and Grace catching them in the middle of it.

Their breakup was amusing for the time being, but would likely prove problematic later on, as Adrian was sure it would only spurn Ricky into upping the ante on his quest to deflower Grant High's resident Virgin Mary. And more and more, Adrian was hating the idea of Ricky being with any other girls. It wasn't because she was developing real feelings for him, though, oh no, "He's just a good fuck. We're fuck buddies, that's all." She looked around, confident in what she was telling herself. It felt more legitimate when she said it out loud, even if she was the only one listening. "The more time he's with dead ends like Grace Bowman, the less time he's in my bed, and that's unacceptable. We're sexually compatible, they aren't."

But then the idea of sexual compatibility brought her back to the problem at hand. Or rather, at stomach. She absently looked down at her skin tight shirt. She was still so thin, not even showing in the slightest. It would stay that way. The guys she bedded weren't father material anyway. Not that she'd bedded that many in recent months anyway, but that was due half to circumstance and half to the fact that Ricky was her current flavor of the month, as it were. And he was the furthest thing from father material that there could possibly be. If he was even the other half of the responsible party. Adrian looked down the hallway again. Ben. He was kissing Amy on the cheek by the band room. "Definitely not father material."

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As lunchtime, Adrian was hungry and could feel the rumbling of her stomach, but every time she looked at food all she could imagine was how it would look like as vomit. She was sitting alone, as she usually did, at a small orange outdoor table, picking at the latticework of holes with the tip of her French manicure.

"You look lonely."

Adrian looked up to see Grace hovering over her dressed in her cheerleader uniform, punctuated by an all too peppy smile. "Shouldn't you be sitting over there?" she asked, looking in the direction of the table filled with cheerleaders.

Grace almost frowned. Almost Then regained her composure. Or mark. Same thing, really. "Oh, no!" she replied, high pitched and grating. "Just because I'm a cheerleader doesn't mean I have to sit with them every day. Besides, I think you need someone to sit with today." She slid onto the bench and stared nervously at Adrian's bored face. "Don't you have a lunch?"

"Not hungry."

"It's okay if you don't," she suddenly whispered. "You can share mine, I don't mind." Without waiting for an answer, she shoved her tray closer to Adrian.

"I said, 'not hungry!' What part of that don't you understand?" Adrian sneered, shoving the tray back. "And for the record, I'm not poor and I don't need your pity!"

Grace blanched. "I – I didn't mean –"

"I know what you meant." Adrian stood up, swinging her purse onto her shoulder. "And don't think I don't know that the only reason you came over here is because those gossipy bitches are talking about your breakup with Jack and you thought by coming over here you could distract yourself." She leaned in close to Grace's face. "You're pathetic, you know that? Leave. Me. Alone." When she finished her rant, she realized that several people were staring in her direction. Defiantly, she puffed out her chest. "Screw you all!"

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Grace was shaking, like she might cry. Whether she did or not meant nothing to Adrian. What did, however, was the fact that as she turned to leave, Ricky came rushing by, easing onto the bench beside Grace, where he began to console her, complete with his fantastic arms around her, surreptitiously shooting Adrian nasty looks over Grace's shoulder. A flame cackled in the pit of her stomach.

"It's alright, Grace…"

"Better get a condom ASAP, Blondie, because at the rate you're bawling, he'll be in you in no time."

Grace sniffed. "Why do you have to be so mean, Adrian?"

Adrian scowled. "It comes with maturity."

"Don't pay any attention to her," Ricky soothed, turning Grace's head away from Adrian's. "Just ignore her. You can eat lunch with me today, alright?"

Adrian didn't catch the blonde's response, but assumed it was happy acceptance. She decided she couldn't stand it anymore, the rest of the day just wasn't worth it. She was in no mood for majorette practice anyway, so it was better to just go home. For three minutes she wandered the halls, debating whether or not to get a pass from the counselor or to just ditch. If she ditched, her mother would eventually ask about it, so she opted for the former, which involved a quick detour to Mr. Molina's office. When she arrived, she discovered the someone was already waiting: "Ben?"

Ben startled at her voice. "Adrian!" he yelped. "Uh, hi. What are you doing here?"

"That's my business. You?"

Ben looked down at his shoes. "I was hoping to get a transfer."

"Transfer from what?"

"P.E. to band."

"What?" Adrian hissed. "So you can follow around the Juergens girl like a little puppy dog?"

Suddenly defensive he bit back, "And that's none of your business!"

"Oooh, suck a nerve, huh?" she mocked. "I'm good."

"What do you care anyway?" Ben glared. "You probably don't know a goddamn thing about love. All you want is sex."

Adrian shoved her fist into Ben's chest, pinning him to the wall. "I didn't see you complaining, Boykewich!" She moved her face dangerously close into his, nearly biting his lower lip as she snapped. "And for the record: you don't know a goddamn thing about me!"

The door beside them opened and a stubby boy with a face full of pimples stumbled out with a yellow slip of paper clutched in his fist. Adrian released her grip of Ben just moments before the counselor's face popped out to spot them. "Ben Boykewich?"

Adrian smiled innocently, flashing all of her teeth. "Right here," she said with an accusatory finger.

Ben smoothed his sweater and nodded. "Hi, Mr. Molina." He extended his hand and shook the counselor's.

"Nice to meet you, Ben. Why don't you come on in…" He looked to Adrian as the latter quickly slipped inside. "And you are?"

"Adrian Lee. I just…I wasn't feeling well today, I wanted to get a pass to go home, but it looks like you're busy, so-"

"You'll need to see the nurse about that," Mr. Molina said. "Sorry I can't be of assistance."

"Thanks." And the door shut. "Screw it! I'm just going home!"

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The sound of fervent rapping at her door woke her from where she'd fallen asleep on the couch. If it was another Jehovah's Witness, she was going to scream! "I'm coming!" she bellowed, stomping towards while wiping the sleep from her eyes. She barely unlocked it when the door flew open, almost pushing her out of the way. Ricky was all over her before she even realized what was going on and immediately she began to push him off. "What the hell is wrong with you! Stop it!"

"You like this," he whispered, his voice husky. He was already sliding his hands up her shirt.

"I said stop!" She untangled herself from his grasp and pushed him away.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I'm not in the mood, but I guess you didn't gather that from the fact that I left school at lunch." Adrian rolled her eyes. "And by the way you're hanging on me, I'd guess that you have once again failed to bed The Virgin."

"Shut up."

"You shut up! You're so transparent."

"And you need me, so don't act like you don't. That's why you're so jealous of Grace. I could have any girl in the school-"

"Then go have them and quit bothering me!"

"There's a reason you keep coming back to me."

"Ha! Now there's a pot calling the kettle black if I ever heard it! You," she said, digging her nail into his chest, "are the one who keeps returning to my bed, not the other way around!"

"That's because you're not worthy enough for my bed."

Adrian felt her breath linger in her throat, burning with the heat of a supernova. She raised her hand, flinging it hard and fast against the side of Ricky's face. "Fuck you!"

"That's why I'm here!" he bellowed, grabbing Adrian around the waist. He brought their lips together and it sizzled, like lava meeting the sea.

Despite the very reason she'd come home that afternoon, Adrian felt herself crumbling into Ricky's needy embrace. She slapped her hand against his face again, this time not intending to hurt him, but to hold him still. The way he kissed her was so unlike anything she'd ever experienced before, so violent and brilliant at the same time. She suddenly felt his hands kneading her ass and compliantly wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to lift her to his waist, where she wrapped her legs around him. A part of her hated him for the way he made her burn for him.

Ricky carried Adrian into her bedroom and pressed her up against the wall, removing her shirt, then carried her to the bed where he dropped her onto the mattress. He began to pull off his shirt while she unzipped his jeans.

"I – hate – you," she told him in between removing individual articles of clothing. Screw being pregnant, she decided she could worry about that on Friday. It was the here and now that was important: Ricky made her feel good and that was all that mattered. Her conscious mind melted away minutes later and all she could focus on was pleasure. The bliss that her body felt when it was connected with Ricky's was unrivaled, as though her blood had been replaced with pure adrenaline.

Adrian knew every curve of his chest, every ravine on his back. She knew how fast – or how slow – he'd go by the way she moaned and she could kick up his speed by scraping her nails down his flesh, like spurring a horse. Ricky was her puppet and she his; that was the way she wanted to keep it. Those were the things she decided when she woke up post-sex and watched him as he slept. Those were all the things that would stop if her secret were to ever get out. She rubbed her hand over her flawless belly. For the first time in a long time, she realized she had something to lose.

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"Whammt's eamt –img mmmooo?" Henry asked, between bites of his Boykewich Butchers burger. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with his arm before downing a long swig from his Root Beer can. "You've been all high strung ever since lunch. Come to think of it, you've been a little weird ever since school started. Does this have anything to do with that new girlfriend of yours?"

"Her name's Amy," Ben snapped in rely.

"Sor-ry!" Henry replied sarcastically. "It's a valid question, though. She's the only thing that's changed in your life recently." He smirked a little, debating on whether or not to take another bite of his burger. "What?" he chuckled. "Is she holding out on you or something?"

"No!"

"She is, isn't she?" Henry accused, laughing at the defensive look in Ben's eyes. "Man, the only thing you complained about all last year was that you're still a virgin – no matter that Alice and I are too – and now you've got a girlfriend and you still can't get any. That's what's wrong, isn't it?"

"That's not it!" Ben shouted, startling Henry into silence. He looked back and forth, then rose from his bed and closed the door. The way Henry was looking at him told him that he knew he'd made his point, that he was in no mood to be teased and that he had something important to divulge. "I'm going to tell you something," he said slowly, "but I want it to be just between you and me."

Henry nodded. "Sure, yeah," he mumbled.

"I don't even want Alice to know, okay?" At Henry's blank look, Ben hardened his face. "Promise?"

Henry offered up his pinky finger for a silly childhood swear to satisfy his friend. "What's wrong? You in trouble or something?"

"I had sex, Henry." As expected, Henry's jaw dropped. "And not with Amy."

"What?"

"Shut up, will ya! My dad's likely to hear!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Henry gulped and shoved his mouth full of hamburger, then waved his hand to hurry his friend on.

"It was before I met Amy. You remember when Bunny caught the flu and couldn't cater the majorette meet a week before school started and my dad dragged me along to help out?"

"Mmm-hmm," the Asian boy nodded, shoving his Root Beer to his lips.

"That's when it happened," Ben paled. "That's where I met her: Adrian."

"The school sl-"

"The one who's with Ricky. Or with. Whatever. Yes, that one."

"I can't believe you tapped that!" Henry exploded. "What was it like? How did that even happen?"

Ben placed his hands to the sides of his head. "I don't know," he whimpered, shaking his head. "It was all girls there and damn, they were all so good looking…" He fell back against his pillows and stared at the ceiling. "And she just picked me. I don't know why! I guess because I was the only guy there and she wanted to have sex."

"You lucky bastard!"

"Not lucky!" Ben groaned. "It was horrible!"

"Horrible? How can sex with an incredibly hot majorette who probably most guys in school would kill to do – or have already done – be horrible?"

"Because I had no idea what the hell I was doing."

"But, come on, with as much experience as she had, it had to have been good, right?"

Ben wriggled against his mattress. "I guess. Although, I have nothing to compare it to."

"But it felt good, right?"

"Yeah…if you don't count how nervous I was and the fact that I, well…" Henry began to snicker, promptly Ben to punch him in the ribs. "Shut up! She said she didn't care, just as long as I was able to give her what she needed."

"You used a condom, right? I mean…no telling how many guys she's been with-"

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?"

Ben hesitated. "I always carry one in my wallet, just in case. But – uh, it broke."

"Broke?"

"Yeah, when I was, uh…" He looked away, his face turning the color of a ripe cherry.

"Geeze, man! Did you get tested? How do you know she didn't give you something?"

"No."

"You need to!"

Ben ran his fingers over his hair. "What if she were to get pregnant or something?"

Henry scoffed. "That's not what you need to worry about," he frowned. "A girl like that…she wouldn't let herself get pregnant. And even if she did…she wouldn't tell you about it."

"But my dad's got money," he frowned.

"True," Henry agreed. "But don't you think you would've heard of something by now if that was her plan? Still, I think you need to worry about you. Get tested. Especially if, you know, things with you and Amy get more intense."

"I know you're right," Ben groaned and buried his face into his pillow, mumbling something that Henry couldn't make out.

"What?"

"I said: 'I'm an idiot.'"

"Got that right! But an idiot who bagged a smokin' hot one on his first go. You're a stud, Ben."

"No, I just got lucky, that's all. Or I'm cursed."

"Why would you be cursed? I mean, assuming you don't have anything, that is."

"I just wish I'd waited. You probably can't understand this, but I wish I'd waited. I didn't know Adrian, I didn't like Adrian…it was all so impersonal. As much as I wanted to have sex and as good as it felt, I feel like I ruined it somehow. I'm so happy with Amy right now and I just wish that it could've been her instead."

"You'll still have a first time with Amy, assuming you two make it that long."

"Yeah, I know, but it's not the same thing. And speaking of Amy, how do I tell her that?"

"Tell her? Are you crazy? It's none of her business! It's not like you cheated on her or anything and as long as you're clean, it's none of her business, so you don't have to tell her anything."

"I guess."

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"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"You could spend the night," Adrian yawned.

"I don't spend the night," Ricky replied, zipping up his jeans.

Adrian rolled into the warm spot he'd vacated on the bed and admired his bare body in the shimmer of the nightlight before he pulled his t-shirt over it. "You're an ass."

"And you're a piece of ass."

Adrian shrugged. "Always with a chip on your shoulder."

"Always with a razor tongue."

"You like my tongue."

"I like your sex."

"You like me." She stretched out like a feline in front of a fire and yawned again. "And you'll be back."

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On whether I find something better."

"You'll be back," she repeated. But this time, she watched him leave her room without answering. The sound of the front door closing made her sick inside. Sure, she'd had guys spend the night in the past, but she'd never asked one to until now. Ricky was different. Ricky was, well, technically Ricky was nothing to her now, but she wanted to change that, and she wanted to change it bad.

Ten minutes later, she was dozing off again and a noise niggled her back into the waking world. It sounded like the front door, but that couldn't be. Her mother was on a flight somewhere, probably Denver or Austin or something. She sat up, her heart suddenly racing, and blindly grabbed her anything on her dresser. What her fingers found weren't familiar, long and waxy smooth. When she looked at it, she realized it was a belt. Ricky's. Tossing it to the other side of the bed, she quietly rose from the bed and grabbed her batons that were leaning against the wall.

On tiptoes, Adrian inched out of her bedroom and down the hallway, her ears peeled for the sounds of footsteps or voices or anything suspicious. She was beginning to wonder if she dreamt it all when she heard the floor creek from the other side of the hallway and gasped, pressing herself flat against the wall. The padded sound of crunching carpet came closer and Adrian readied her batons above her head. When a dark figure emerged, she shrieked and cast the batons forward to the sound of a sickening crack!

"Fuck! Adrian!"

"Ricky?"

"Goddamnit!" Ricky swore, cradling his arm against his chest as Adrian scrabbled to turn on the light and gain her composure. "What the hell! You attacked me with goddamn batons!"

"I thought you were a burglar!" Adrian inspected his arm and winced upon seeing fresh blood, then looked down and realized one of the batons was broken and the other bent. "You owe me new batons."

"You owe me a new arm!"

"What were you even coming back here for anyway? You belt?"

"What? No!" Ricky glared at her. "I…" he shook his head. "Doesn't matter now anyway, clearly you're not in the mood for company."

"Shut up!" Adrian grabbed him by his good arm and led him into the bathroom. "Sit there," she said, shoving him onto the toilet seat. "Let me help."

"I think you've done enough-"

"Sit!" Adrian barked. She pulled the peroxide, cotton balls, and bandages out of the medicine cabinet and hovered in front of Ricky so he couldn't move. "This is going to hurt."

"I can handle it," he said defiantly.

Adrian ignored his tone and began to blot his wound with peroxide soaked cotton balls until all the blood was washed away, then she applied the bandage. "Sorry, we're out of Neosporin."

"It's fine, I'll put some on when I get home."

When he tried to stand, Adrian blocked him again. "Tell me the real reason you came back."

"To get my belt," he spat.

"Liar."

"How do you know?"

"Just do. Now," she sat down on his lap, holding him to the toilet seat, "why did you come back?"

"I don't know."

Adrian gently took Ricky's arm into her hands. "Does it hurt?" No response. So she kissed the bandage. "What about now?" Her eyes gleamed and she kissed it again. "Now?"

"It's beginning to feel better…"

"Hmm." Adrian kissed the bandage, then kissed up his arm to his shoulder and followed his collarbone to his mouth, where she kissed him, slow and sweet, like maple syrup. "What about now?"

"That feels pretty good."

Adrian nodded, smirking at him as she pressed her body against his chest, holding him to the back of the toilet. "I thought so." She entwined her fingers into his hair.

"I can't stay all night," he warned.

"That's okay," Adrian whispered. "You came back…that's all I needed." She kissed him again.

And again.

And again.