A/N: This one's a bit shorter than usual, sorry about that! Unfortunately I've had some homework get in the way, but hopefully it still satisfies your needs.

Turning Tables

Trust For Sale

Adrian was on her knees in the one way she never thought she'd be: hunched over the girls' bathroom toilet, emptying into it the contents of her morning chocolate protein shake. Although she'd tried to tuck her hair into the back of her shirt before vomiting, some clumps had broken free and her slicked with slimy brown upchuck, which smelt fouler than a dump in summer at midday.

"Oh god!" she whispered, when there was nothing else left for her to expel. It had taken a full twenty minutes of her time and she'd heard the bell ring, signaling the end of class and the start of the passing period. Adrian snagged a wad of toilet paper, wiped her mouth, and tossed it into the basin before yanking the lever down and then propping herself up against the side of the dirty bathroom stall. "Is this what dying feels like?"

The toilet gurgled and swished, swirling away the contents with a final growling belch. The noise hit Adrian's ears and her stomach churned again. "Oh no!" She threw herself over the edge of the toilet again, but there was nothing left for her to throw up, now she was just drive heaving, which somehow seemed worse than the actual vomiting.

"Are you okay in there?"

Adrian's screwed up her face in spite of the heaves. She hadn't heard the door open, but of course, of all the people to come in, it had to be that pesky Christian cheerleader. She tried to ignore Grace's voice in the hopes that she would go away.

"Hello? Are you alright?"

Adrian grit her teeth. "I'm fine! Go away!"

"Adrian?"

The Latina could see Grace's ballet flats at the foot of her stall. "Leave me alone!"

"You sound really ill, are you sure-"

"Leave!"

There was silence on the cheerleader's end, but her feet didn't move. "Look, I know you don't like me, but the Lord says to turn the other cheek and-"

"Fuck off! You're not making me any better, especially by proselytizing to me in the goddamn bathroom stall!"

"I forgive you," Grace continued as if she hadn't just been told off. "And while I know that you're upset now, I'm not going to go anywhere until I know that you're okay." Grace's feet inched forward in a nervous, shuffling manner. "Ricky mentioned you weren't feeling well last week. He said it was some kind of food poisoning or something. Has it gotten worse? It seems like a long time to have food poisoning. Are you sure it's food poisoning-"

Adrian pulled herself up and flung open the door, growling at Grace with all the fury of an enraged bulldog. "I'm fine, okay? See?" She struck a mock pose in front of the blonde and then shoved by her to the sink, where she splashed her mouth with water and then dampened some paper towels to wipe out her vomit tainted strands of hair.

Grace placed the back of her hand under her nose, attempting to discreetly hide the fact that the stench of vomit was getting to her. She hopped a little, appearing as though she needed to pee; likely the reason she'd come to the bathroom in the first place. "O-okay," she agreed, nodding uncertainly. "Well, if you're sure-"

"I'm sure."

Grace nodded and looked up as the late bell rang. She winced. "I'm sorry," she said. "I have to go-"

"I'm not." Adrian glared at Grace's reflection as she headed for the door and added as she left, "Don't wet yourself on the way!" When Grace was good and gone, she leaned forward, resting her head against the cold glass of the dirty mirror. As unhelpful and grating as Grace was, there was one positive that had come out of the conversation: "So Ricky's been thinking about me." She stared at her face in the mirror. "Enough to talk about me while he's been on a date with Grace, anyway." The thought alone produced a smile, then her eyes trailed to her reflection's belly.

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"You wanted to see me, Mr. Molina?" Ben asked, poking his head into the counselor's office.

"Ben, good!" Mr. Molina rose from his desk and offered his hand to shake the teenager's. "I wanted to let you know that I was able to get your transfer request from P.E. to band approved."

"Really?"

The counselor nodded. "Normally we don't approve requests this late in the game, but I managed to pull a few string because you'd mentioned…" He looked Ben up and down with a sympathetic frown. "You'd mentioned your suspicions about your potential exercise induced asthma. Although I'd highly recommend that you get that officially diagnosed, lest there be any problems in the future."

"Thank you so much, Mr. Molina!" Ben shook his head. "The mile runs were killing me! I really appreciate it."

"No problem," Mr. Molina laughed. "Glad I could help." He lifted a piece of paper from his desk and passed it across to Ben. "This will be your new schedule starting tomorrow. Is there anything else I can help with or will that do it?"

Ben accepted the paper gratefully and folded it into a neat rectangle, then looked back at the counselor with a conflicted expression. "Well…" He pinched his lips together, twiddled his thumbs, then shook his head. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

"Are you sure?" Mr. Molina asked skeptically.

"Yeah, good."

Mr. Molina nodded acceptingly as Ben rose and reached for the door. "It's always open if you ever need anything."

"Thanks." The teenage closed the door as he left. As much as he'd like that to be true – and even as much as the counselor himself thought it – Ben had his doubts, especially regarding the confidentiality of the issues. The last thing he wanted was for the news of the things he had on his mind to spread through the school.

As he walked back to class, Ben fingered a slip of paper in the pocket of his sweater. He'd given Amy his letter that morning, when he'd carried her French Horn to the band room and apologized for having been unable to contact her all weekend, though he had managed to skirt around the exact reason his father had grounded him. Then when they'd caught each other at the water fountain between classes, she'd slipped him a note of her own, which he hadn't had a chance to read yet.

With a snaking smile on his lips, Ben began to remove the letter from his pocket and looked down, seeing that it was fastened with a little heart shaped sticker. He gently tugged at the sticker, careful not to rip it or the note, and proceeded to unfold the response. The letter was almost completely unfolded by the time Ben neared the restrooms and as he reached to pull back the last fold, the door opened and out stepped Adrian.

The fifteen-year-old tripped at the sight of the majorette and stumbled forward into a heap of arms and legs on the waxed floor. The letter fluttered through the air and also landed on the floor, halfway between the two of them. "Ad-rian!" Ben sputtered, gazing up at her.

Adrian stepped forward, stomping the toe of one of her heels onto the letter as she glared down at the Freshman. "What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously. "Are you following me?"

"What? No! I was just at the counselor's office, you can ask him if you want. I got called out of class to talk about my classes."

Adrian rolled her eyes. "Maybe I'll just do that." She rotated around, making sure the halls were clear, then bent down to hover her face above Ben's. "About what happened the other day," she said lowly, "you haven't uttered anything to anyone, have you?"

"No, why?"

"Because you shouldn't. I may not have said it definitively the other day because you had me so pissed off, but the fact is, it's not even yours, alright?"

"How do you know? 'Definitively' I mean?"

"The timing. I'm with a lot of guys, I'm sure you must know that. So just forget what you saw on Friday, it was nothing and you needn't worry your pretty little head about it. Got it?"

Ben just managed to nod.

"Good." Adrian rose and smashed her shoe a little harder into the letter, tearing the edge. "Have a nice life, Boykewich."

Ben waited until Adrian had ascended the stairs and the sound of her heels were no longer audible to snatch up Amy's letter and pick himself up from the floor. It was amazing how he'd gone from fantasizing about her at the majorette retreat, to regretting everything he'd done with her, to being scared shitless of what might've come from their encounter, to downright hating her! "But if it's really not mine, then I don't have anything to worry about, right? Of course, she could be lying to get me to back off, but…there's always Ricky." A little part of him wished it was Ricky's. "Serve them both right." He hugged the letter to his chest. "But somehow I don't see my dad letting this go that easily."

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At lunch, Alice cornered him in the cafeteria and chased him out back to the dumpsters. Henry had been mysteriously absent that day and one look into Alice's eyes told Ben exactly what he needed to know. "I'm gonna kill him!"

Alice folded her arms. "Don't blame Henry, this wasn't his fault."

"He had no business telling-"

"I came over just as your dad was leaving on Saturday, so I knew something was up. Actually, I knew something was up before that, especially with you avoiding us after catering thing, but I hadn't put all the pieces together until Henry told me what was going on. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think it was appropriate."

Hurt shimmered in her eyes. "Ben, I've been friends with you for exactly as long as Henry has. Why did you choose to confide in him and not me?"

Ben looked at his cafeteria tray. "I guess some things are just easier to talk with other guys about, no offense. I had to tell somebody – it was just fizzing up inside me and I thought I was going to explode – so I told Henry. And I thought he could keep my confidence."

"Well for future reference, I can do that too, okay? I may be female, but that doesn't make me any less a friend or confidant."

Ben nodded.

"So what are you going to do? Have you even spoken to her?"

Ben shrugged. "She says it isn't mine."

Alice scoffed. "And you believe her? Ben, come on! This is Adrian Lee we're talking about here!"

"Exactly! The whole school knows what she's up to! So why shouldn't I believe that?"

"Do you know how far along she is?"

"No."

"Then you can't say for sure that it isn't yours." Alice placed her hands on her hips. "You know, sperm can live for up to a week in the female body. Let's just theorize for a moment that Adrian did have sex with the drummer the first day of school. That's time enough for overlap, Ben."

Ben groaned. "God, I hate it when you go all Human Google on me!"

"Yeah and I hate it that you couldn't trust me, so I guess we're even."

"Are you gonna keep throwing that in my face?"

"Just for today."

"Great."

"I think it's pretty reasonable of me. One day of guilt is miniscule in comparison to seven years of best friendship."

"Point taken!"

Alice continued from their previous discussion: "What do you want to do?"

"Want?" Ben coldly laughed. "I want to be with Amy. That's all I want. Why would I want anything else? Why would I want a baby at fifteen, with a girl I don't care or know anything about and visa versa?"

Alice nodded and surprised him by capturing him in a hug, which was uncharacteristically personal for her. "Well, whatever happens, know that I'm here for you, Ben, and always will be."

Ben bobbed his head against her shoulder, both touched and muted by her actions. Managing one arm around his cafeteria tray, he placed it as far around her back as he could and returned the gesture.

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Adrian came home from school to find her mother in the living room on the phone. Judging by the sound of it, it was with her latest boy toy, so Adrian bypassed her into the kitchen. Making sure her mother wasn't watching, she pulled down the soda crackers Ricky had brought her the night he'd taken Grace to the carnival and tiptoed her way down the hall into her bedroom. She was starving, but nothing would stay down.

Crossing to her closet, the sixteen-year-old began to rummage through her clothing for something a little less skintight and more comfortable. Her hands brushed across her majorette uniform and she paused on it, thinking back to the retreat. A little shiver ran up her spine and she quickly yanked the uniform off the hanger and stuffed it into her clothes hamper, refusing to think about it. Finally she came to a lone baby doll top at the back of her closet and changed into it. It looked alright, though admittedly, it looked more like something Amy Juergens would wear, not Adrian Lee. She couldn't even recall how she'd come to acquire the particular top.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of her mind, she fell into her mattress and pulled up the comforter around her body, cozying herself into the spot that Ricky usually slept in. Closing her eyes, her thoughts turned to only to Ricky and that dazzling smile and satiny voice of his as she chewed on the soda crackers. If it was Ricky's child she was carrying, she wondered if it favored him. "Would," she corrected herself out loud. "Would favor him. It's not a person…yet. If ever."

Then an unsettling thought came to mind: the idea of the child being Ben's and favoring Ben. If it was Ben's and Ricky found out, "Ricky and I will be over. There'd be no chance in hell he'd be with me again after that." Adrian had never been one for gambling, but that's what it was: a game of chance. If the baby was Ben's, it could ruin her life. If the baby was Ricky's, well, that was another gamble in and of itself, but at least it presented circumstances that Adrian liked to think about.

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"Where are we going?"

"We're making a stop on the way home," Leo answered. He was dressed a little too nicely, in a suit and tie.

"A business meeting?" Ben asked, raising his eyebow.

"Not exactly." Leo removed something from his pocket and handed it to his son.

Ben unfolded the paper as a knot grew in his belly. At the top it had a name: Cindy Lee. His hand began to shake. It sounded familiar, not just because that wad Adrian's last name, but because, "That's the name of the woman from the phonebook!"

Leo nodded. "It is."

Looking further down the page, Ben realized it had an address and several paragraphs of information. "What is this?"

"It's a background check," Leo explained. "It's a completely legal service. I used the name and number we got from the phonebook, which is how I was able to get the address-"

"I can't believe you did this! This is an invasion of privacy!"

"We're just going to talk to them, Ben. From the information I've gathered, it seems that Cindy is Adrian's mother."

"And just how much do you think she'll want to talk to you once she finds out about you looking her up behind her back like some sort of stalker?"

"As I said," Leo replied, "it's a legal service. I came across it through my business, but anyone can use it."

"That doesn't make it right!" Ben began to shred the paper and throw it to the floor of the limo. "You've crossed a line, Dad, and I am not going up to her house! It might not even be mine, you know that? Today Adrian told me that she's sure it isn't mine!"

"It's your responsibility to address this, son. If what you say is true and the baby isn't yours, then I will be relieved enough for the both of us, but neither of us have any proof of that yet." The limo came to a stop. "And you will go up there with me."

"Or what?"

"If you're too irresponsible to address the fact that you may be a father, then you're certainly too irresponsible to have a girlfriend…"

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"…if you need a place to stay, of course you can!"

Adrian glared at the back of her mother's head. She'd stepped back into the living room to find her mother still rattling on the phone, though it sounded like the conversation was drawing to a close. When she hung up, Adrian placed her hands on her hips. "Who was that?"

Cindy jumped and looked over her shoulder. "A friend."

"A friend?" Adrian echoed suspiciously. "What kind of friend?"

Cindy sighed. "I'm not in the mood to fight, Adrian. He's just a friend, okay."

"And he needs a place to stay." Adrian touched her forehead. "Can't he stay at a motel or something? I'm not feeling great, you know that. I don't feel like company." At those words, a knock sounded at the door, and the teenager looked up.

Cindy immediately stood and hustled towards the door. "This isn't up for debate," she said, seeming grateful for the distraction of the door. She smoothed her hair and clothes, then opened it. "Yes?"

Adrian wandered around the couch, expecting to hear Ricky's voice in reply. She wasn't looking forward to it, Ricky hadn't met her mother yet, and she didn't particularly want them to meet anyway. Not yet.

"Mrs. Lee?"

"Ms. Lee," Cindy corrected. "And you are?"

"Leo Boykewich."

Adrian's legs seemed to turn to stone and she almost fell over where she stood.

"And this is my son, Ben."

Adrian noticed the stiffening in her mother's shoulders.

"I'm sorry. Mr. Boykewich, but I'm afraid I'm a little busy right now-"

"We're here to discuss the matter with Adrian," Leo continued, undeterred.

"I don't believe there is a matter-"

"She may be carrying my son's baby."

"I don't know who you think you are, but you need to leave. Now!"

Adrian rung her hands through her hair; she just wanted to shrink away and die. "How did they even find out where I live?" she whispered to herself.

"I'm sorry if we've caused you any distress this afternoon, Ms. Lee, but my son and I just wanted to inform you that he will be taking full responsibility if the baby is his and will honor his half of whatever decision Adrian chooses to make regarding the pregnancy."

"What pregnancy?"

Adrian slapped her hand to her mouth, eyes bulging and stomach reeling. She felt the bile crawling up her throat at the sound of Ricky's voice. She clutched her stomach and darted down the hallway into the bathroom, not even bothering to shut the door before she threw up the toilet lid and began to vomit.