A/N: I just got finished with this chapter when I was delighted to see that I'd picked up an unexpected review. Animefouryou, I am delighted to add more right now! ;)

Turning Tables

Your Bleedin' Heart

"So have you heard from Adrian?" Henry asked as he came upon Ben at his locker.

Ben spun around. "Thankfully, no."

Henry looked about and then ducked close to his friend's face. "Do you think she…you know? She's been gone all week. Except for Monday, but then-"

"You were at home pretending to be sick to avoid telling me you spilled everything to Alice," Ben finished.

Henry squirmed. "Yeah…that."

Ben shook his head. "I don't know, okay? Adrian nor her mother have been in touch with us, so I have no idea what's going on, and frankly, I'm glad it hasn't come up yet." Ben looked down the hallway, where he could see Amy chatting and laughing with Madison and Lauren. "I don't want to say or do anything until I know exactly what's going on."

Henry nodded. "No use in screwing things up with Amy until and unless you have to."

"But on the bright side," Ben said, reaching into his locker, "I did find this in the mail last night." He handed a ripped envelope to Henry and nodded. "Look!"

Henry tugged out a folded piece of paper from the envelope and examined it, then a goofy grin lit up his face. "You're clean!"

Ben shut his locker and leaned against it with a relieved sigh. "I know!" he exhaled, grinning like an idiot. "It's the only good news I've had all week. No STDs, no STIs, no anything!"

"What are you all smiles about?" Amy asked, surprising both boys with her sudden presence.

Henry scrunched up Ben's test results and shoved them into his pocket. "Nothing!" he lied, his cheeks puffing out as he forced a smile to reinforce his illusion. "I was just saying that I got a letter from my great aunt in, uh, Georgia! Good ol' Auntie…" He spotted someone passing by with a High Sierra logo on their backpack. "…Sierra! Always good to hear from her. Heh."

Amy nodded uncertainly and flashed a forced smile. "Uh, well, that's good."

Ben wrapped an arm around Amy's shoulders. "Ignore him," he said, turning her away from Henry and his blustering. "Anyway, how are you?"

"I asked you first." She nudged him. "Come on, tell me. You've been upset about your dad grounding you this week, so what's up?"

Ben shrugged. "I guess I'm just glad that it's finally Friday, that's all. And, of course, that I'm getting a chance to talk with my girlfriend. You look beautiful, by the way."

Amy grinned and pecked Ben on the cheek. "Even though you always say that, thank you."

"It's always true."

"So what are your plans for the weekend? I'd like to live vicariously through you, if you don't mind."

"Not many, I'm afraid. I have an oral presentation to give on Monday and it requires visual aid, so I'm going to spend all weekend constructing a power point."

"What class?"

"English. We just read Macbeth, so I'm doing my report on Lady Macbeth and how she was essentially the driving force behind Macbeth's downfall." A cheeky smile spread across Amy's face. "I'm calling it 'Lady Macdeath,' genius, huh?"

Ben scrunched up his nose. "Sounds about right," he agreed, bitterness lacing his words.

"I wish you could come over," she added dimly. "My dad's gone this week, gone to Vegas for a furniture buying trip or something. It'd be the perfect time to bring you over and have you work your charm on my mom so that she'll already love you by the time I have to introduce you to my dad."

"I've already met your mom."

"In passing when you've picked me up, but you haven't really been around her."

Ben frowned. "Your dad's that bad, huh?"

"Not bad, per se, just a little overprotective. He still thinks of me as his little girl, you know? And I'm his firstborn and 'The Good Girl.' Not that Ashley's not, but you know what I mean…" Amy shrugged. "It's a lot of responsibility."

"I'm surprised I haven't met your dad yet…even in passing."

"He's been gone a lot," Amy admitted in a low tone. "Him and my mom…I think they're having problems. Ashley thinks they've been fighting behind our backs. My mom was complaining at the start of the school year about money, so my theory is that maybe the furniture store isn't doing so hot, but I don't know for sure."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay," she shook her head. "It's not your fault. It's not like they haven't fought before, especially about money. I know they'll work it out…they have to."

They arrived at the band room and Ben handed Amy her books and lifted her French Horn case into her band cubby. "I'm sure they will," he agreed, before kissing her swiftly on her petal soft lips. "But I am sorry I can't be there as much as I should be while it's happening."

"Hopefully things will work out with your dad," Amy nodded. "And…at some point, you might feel comfortable confiding in me-"

Ben wrapped his hands around Amy's shoulders in a strong but sensitive manner. "I do want to confide in you," he whispered. "Just…in time. I really appreciate you being patient and understanding with me, though."

"You do the same for me." The bell began to ring and Amy looked a little disappointed, but leaned up on her toes and grabbed Ben around the neck, planting a soft kiss on his lips. "Until Monday!"

"Until Monday," Ben agreed, his stomach twisting at the thought of not seeing Amy again for another two whole days.

TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT

Ricky hovered in the hallway of Adrian's apartment building, eyes glued to the door with the number three on it. He'd been halfway to school that morning when he'd decided to take a detour at the last minute and had waited until he'd seen Cindy get in her car and drive off before making his way towards the condo. He had been ready to walk up to the door and bang on it until Adrian opened it, when a tall, balding man had sauntered out with a bulbous black trash back. He waited until the man had disappeared out of the hallway before collecting his nerve and moving to the door, where he raised his fist to knock, then, alternatively, decided to try the handle instead.

The door clicked open and Ricky leaned forward, peering into the crack. There was silence. "Adrian?" He shifted his eyes, checking to see if the man he'd seen exiting the apartment was coming back. "Adrian?" he called, this time louder. Still, nothing. Inhaling sharply, Ricky pushed the door open all the way and stepped inside. His legs felt wobbly at first, but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind and strode through the apartment like he'd done several times before, heading for Adrian's bedroom. When he got to it, Adrian's door was shut, but Ricky tried the handle and forcefully pushed it open without calling her name.

His surprise appearance was first met with a shriek, then, as Adrian registered who was standing in her bedroom, horror. The pregnant teen was lying in bed with a plastic trash bin by the side of her bed, Pepto-Bismol on her dresser, and a plate of soda crackers on her pillow. She bolted up at Ricky's uninvited presence. "Get out!"

"We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Like hell there is! You've been avoiding me all week!" Ricky pointed an accusatory finger at the Latina teen. "You know that I know about the pregnancy, that's the only explanation, and you can't just hide at home forever."

"How did you even get in here?" Adrian demanded, climbing from her bed and slipping on her robe.

Footsteps thundered from down the hallway. "What the hell is going on in here?"

Ricky jumped as the balding man he'd seen taking the trash out barged into the room. He took a few steps back, away from the man and closer to Adrian.

"Who the hell are you?" The balding man scrunched his face and looked to Adrian. "Did you let him in? It sounded like you were screaming in here."

Adrian grit her teeth. "It's fine, George." She cast a murderous glance at Ricky. "Yes, I let him in, but he won't be staying long. He just came to bring me some school work. In fact," she adjusted the tie on her robe, "I was just about to go out to his car with him to get it."

George nodded, eyeing Ricky with suspicion. "Well, alright then." He made a peace sign with his fingers, pointed it to his eyes, and then flipped it between him and Ricky. "But I'm watching you, buddy! Adrian's been sick all week, so don't you try to keep her out!"

Adrian waited until George had disappeared back down the hall, where she heard her mother's bedroom door shut, then she sighed and motioned her hand. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm waiting to talk to you."

"And you can do that as I'm walking you back to your car," she replied emotionlessly.

Ricky grit his fists but had no other choice than to follow her brisk pace back through the apartment. As she skirted out the front door, he reached out and jerked her shoulder, spinning her around to face him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because there was nothing to tell, I'd already set the date for the abortion."

Ricky flinched back at the last word. "So you already-"

"Why would you care anyway?"

"Because the timeline fits and one of the condoms slipped, isn't that reason enough?"

Adrian placed her hands on her hips. "It seems to me you'd be pleased as punch if I got an abortion, what with you being the 'oh-poor-me-foster-boy' and everything. Hardly seems like something you should be skipping school to break into my home and harass me about."

"I didn't break in, that George guy left the door unlocked."

Adrian's eyes rolled back in her head. "My mother keeps bitching at him about that," she groaned.

"What does that Ben kid have to do with this? Why did he find out before me?"

Adrian gnawed her teeth together. "I didn't invite him if that's what your insinuating. He saw me at the clinic, okay? And somehow he figured out where I live, because he and his father came over here to inform my mother that they'd help in whatever way they could."

Ricky held his fists as his side, desperately wishing he had a portal punching bag with him. "So it's Ben's?" he asked. "You didn't tell me you fucked him!"

"I don't like your tone!" she yelled. "Ben was a one time thing and he happened before I met you, so it was none of your concern!"

"So you've been pregnant this whole time?" he hollered. "You've just been letting me screw you while you're incubating someone else's kid? That's sick! That's fucking sick!" Adrian's hand came down on the side of Ricky's face and he recoiled, almost losing his balance.

"I don't know whose it is!" Adrian screamed, her face glowing like hot coals even despite her deceptive olive skin tone. "But for what it's worth, you're a bastard, Ricky Underwood!" She scooped up a rock from the ground. "And I hope it's not yours!" She cast the rock at Ricky's window shield and a piercing sound filled the air when it hit.

Ricky raced to his car to inspect the window, where he found a nasty nick was in place thanks to the rock. The back of his throat vibrated with fury as he turned to scream back at Adrian, but she was nowhere to be seen. A moment later, he heard a reverberating thud, likely Adrian's condo door slamming shut.

TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT

At noon, Ben stood in the cafeteria lunch line, craning his neck to count the number of people in front of him.

"Fifteen," Alice said without turning around. "So sixteen for Henry and-"

"Seventeen for me," Ben groaned. His stomach growled as he inhaled the smells of greasy pepperoni pizza. He tossed his head back and stared at the ceiling, trying to think of anything that would stop him from thinking about food.

"I hope Adrian's okay, I haven't seen her all week."

Ben's neck snapped up at the sound of Adrian's name coming out of Grace Bowman's mouth. He looked over his shoulder and spotted Grace two people down from him, talking with a couple of other girls, who he recognized as cheerleaders.

"Maybe she finally realized what a pathetic whore she is and decided not to come back?" one cheerleader scoffed.

"Or maybe the slut finally got knocked up after all the sleeping around and boyfriend stealing she's done."

Ben watched Grace, who had opened her mouth towards the first cheerleader – likely to protest – suddenly close it in response to the second. His brows creased as the sunny blonde looked down at the floor and he felt his stomach do a somersault. "She can't know," he muttered in a voice so low only he could hear himself say it.

"Are you talking to yourself?" Henry asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at Ben.

Ben slugged Henry's arm. "Shut up, Henry." As hungry as he'd been before, he suddenly felt equally as sick now. He grabbed Henry's arm to pull him out of line, but the Asian boy resisted.

"What're you doing?"

"We need to talk."

Henry pointed to the front of the line. "In thirteen people, we can talk."

"Now!"

"Hungry!"

Ben threw up his hands. "You'll find me at our usual table."

"What? You're not going to eat? You've been complaining about food since I saw you at your locker!"

Ben whisked by Grace and the other two cheerleaders, who were still cackling between themselves, but he wasn't sure if it was about Adrian or another unfortunate victim. He clutched his stomach and headed outside, where he found the table he usually sat at with Henry and Alice and slid onto the bench.

"Something wrong?"

Ben lifted his head at the sound of his girlfriend's voice, music to his ears. "Hey," he smiled, shaking his head. "No, just not hungry."

"You sure? You look a little peckish." Amy lifted an orange from the tray. "Sure you don't want to share with me?" She dug her nails – plain and unpolished, so unlike Adrian's – into the orange and tore back the rind.

Ben sniffed the ripe scent of orange. "My mom used to throw orange peel down the garbage disposal when I was a kid to give it a fresh citrus scent." He stared at Amy's nails when she was done pulling the rind off, the quicks had been turned from white to a yellowy-orange color.

"That's a good idea," Amy nodded. "I might try that." She tugged off a juicy slice and the juice dribbled down her wrist. Amy offered up the slice to Ben. "You know you want it," she winked.

Ben laughed and accepted the slice, feeling a tad bit better about himself. It did smell good. Before she could take her hand away, he wrapped his fingers around it and lifted her wrist to his lips, kissing it softly over the juice trail.

Amy grinned and bit her lip, then leaned in, kissing Ben's juicy lips. Leaning back, she licked her own before taking a tantalizing bite off the tip of her own orange slice.

Ben popped the orange slice into his mouth and chewed it slowly. The way Amy looked at him made him feel light and airy, like he'd just woken up from a dream and still had that fuzzy sedated feeling going on. "Amy," he whispered, "where do you see your life going?"

Amy made a little grunting noise and stopped chewing in order to stare at him. When she finally swallowed she shrugged. "That's kind of a deep question for a Friday afternoon, isn't it?"

"I guess."

"But," she added, "since you asked…" Amy looked at the sky. "I always saw myself going to Julliard. That's my biggest dream. I want to finish high school and go to Julliard and became a real musician." She shifted her eyes back to him. "How about you?"

"I never really thought about it much," he admitted. "Not until recently."

"Until recently?"

"Things have given me a little perspective. Knowing you, for example."

"Maybe we could go to New York together?" she smiled, offering him another slice of orange. "Wouldn't that be crazy?"

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Henry drawled as he smacked his tray down across from Ben.

"What would be crazy?" Alice asked, seating herself next to her boyfriend.

"New York," Amy replied. "Ben and I were just talking about our futures after high school." She watched the way Alice looked at Ben and frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," Alice replied, quickly turning her attention to the pizza on her tray. "Ben's just never spoken about that even to us." She picked up the pizza slice and took a bite, effectively avoiding having to answer anything else with a mouthful.

"Amy!" Madison's voice whined.

Ben, along with the other three people at the table, looked up to see Madison and Lauren heading towards them. Ben noted that Lauren looked irritated, while Madison looked like she was about to fall into a long and detailed story of woe. "Hi," he said, waving his hand slightly.

"Hi, Ben," Lauren grumped.

"Why aren't you sitting with us?" Madison complained.

"I got out of band practice late and didn't see you guys, so I came to sit with Ben."

"I need to talk to you!" Madison sniffed.

Amy sighed. "Is this Jack related?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Lauren deadpanned.

Amy turned guiltily towards Ben. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "But I should probably take this."

"Go ahead, that's what friends are for."

Before removing herself from the table, she quickly leaned over and gave Ben a farewell kiss. "Monday."

Ben nodded and watched her leave, admiring the way she practically floated when she walked on those brilliantly long legs.

"So I take it you haven't mentioned that your future might include fatherhood?" Alice strummed her fingers against the table with a frown.

"I doubt Amy's gonna wanna be a step-mom at fifteen," Henry agreed.

Ben laid his head on the table, avoiding looking at both of his friends. "Eat your lunch and mind your own business while you're at it."

TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT TSLOTAT

At ten after five, Ricky blew into the kitchen to find his foster mother, Margaret, waiting patiently at the kitchen table, with a mug between her hands and another mug, which was empty, seated across from her.

Ricky groaned and dropped his backpack into a vacant chair. "What is this?"

"I'd like to talk to you."

"I'm not in the mood."

"Too bad. You live in my house, so you're going to comply with my requests." She pointed to the chair opposite her. "Sit."

Ricky dropped into the seat with a low growl. "What do you want to talk about?"

Margaret rose from her chair and scooped up the mug that was in front of her foster son. "I've noticed you've been acting quite strangely this week…" She pulled out a small packet of apple cider mix from the cupboard, tore the top off, and poured it into the empty mug.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've never been good at lying to me, Ricky." Margaret moved to the sink and let hot water run into the mug. "I was trying to be patient and let whatever's bothering you run its course, but then I got a call today. Do you have any guesses who it was?"

"Nope." He folded his arms, glaring at her.

"The school. You skipped all of your classes." She slid the mug into the microwave and set it to run for a minute-and-a-half. "Would you like to tell me why?"

Ricky shook his head. "Not particularly, no."

Margaret nodded and moved around the table, where she had her tote bag sitting. She reached inside and pulled out a small blue folder, which she opened up and laid out in front of her foster son. "How about now?"

Ricky looked down at the contents of the folder while Margaret stared over his shoulder, making him feel all the more irritable. Then he began to notice the typing on the pages were lists, web addresses. His face began to grow warm. "What are you doing with these?"

"I asked you first," Margaret replied simply. The microwave beeped and she returned to it, taking a spoon from the drawer and stirring the cider.

"You went through my computer!"

"A computer which your father and I bought you, which resides in our home, in the room we let our underage son live in. I'm sorry that you feel upset about that, but I have every right to check your browsing history, and I only did so after you broke my trust by not showing up for school." Margaret set the steaming mug of cider down in front of Ricky and sat back into her seat to calmly sip her own cider. "Now what I'd like to know is: which girl is it?" She nodded towards the folder. "I know perfectly well what amniocentesis is and I can only draw a couple of conclusions on why you've been researching it. Though, if you have an alternative explanation, I'd love to hear it."

Ricky closed the folder and pushed it towards Margaret. He was silence for a full minute, then wrapped his hands around the mug and brought it to his lips, drinking it deep despite the way the liquid burned the taste buds on his tongue, leaving them as numb as he felt after his confrontation with Adrian that morning. When he set the mug down, he looked straight into Margaret's eyes. "It's Adrian."