A/N: Oh, and I forgot to mention on the last chapter, but I'm glad the concept of the Slut Walk went over well. I felt it was a good combination of the original episode and Adrian's version of the speech in season three, but I liked that the actual Slut Walk movement added more weight to things than just the march at the end of the original "Back To School Special."

Turning Tables

The Secret Divorce Of The American Adult

The sun hadn't even had a chance to rise yet, but Adrian was wide awake with an insatiable craving for candy canes. And the need to pee. She blamed the former partly on the fact that she was already into her second trimester and cravings were becoming a nuisance and partly on the fact that it was already January and the holiday themed foods were on clearance everywhere, pervading her dreams like sugar ants.

Adrian passed her mother's bedroom on the way to the bathroom. The plumber had been called three days ago, but had cancelled twice, so the toilet in her room was currently out of order. Unfortunately for the sixteen-year-old, that meant she had to hear the thrusts and groans and giggles coming from the other side of the door.

"George!" Cindy's voice squealed, followed by a thud. "Stop it!"

"Come on, baby!" George whined. "You know you love it when we do that!"

Adrian cringed and ducked into the bathroom, wanting to forget everything she'd just heard. George had become a regular in their household, which, as far as Adrian was concerned, was far too small for three people, let alone with a fourth on the way. She emptied her bladder with a sigh of relief and washed her hands, then growled when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Since the second trimester had started, the antagonizing morning sickness had been replaced with acne outbreaks. "Stupid hormones!"

The hand towel was within reach so she tugged it down and used it to wash her face up, then hung it back up to dry. Her mother wouldn't be please when she found it, "But so what? I'm pregnant and I'm sixteen and I'm cranky and I'm hungry and I have no patience. It's a lethal combination." She figured her mother would have to understand, after all, she too, had once been a hormonal pregnant teen.

In the kitchen the Latina found a plate of white chip pancakes wrapped in plastic, which George had prepared the day before. Some of them were a little overdone and white chip certainly wasn't Adrian's favorite, but it was better than nothing, so she tossed the plate into the microwave and began to heat them up.

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"Holy shit! That was amazing!" The words belonged to a slinky girl with an oval face and hair the color of a stop sign. She rolled over and trailed her fingernail down the center of Ricky's chest. "I think that's the best sex I've ever had with someone, care to go for round two?"

Ricky threw his covers off and pulled on his boxers without answering. His face was stony as he got up and began to search for his shirt.

"Please don't tell me you're one of those guys who has to have a cigarette after every go. I hate the smell of cigarette smoke."

"Why don't you do yourself a favor and just stop talking?"

The redhead sat up with a pouty scowl. "What's your problem?"

"You are."

"We just had amazing sex and I'm your problem?"

"We had sex," Ricky corrected. "And you were…below average."

"Excuse me!"

Ricky pulled his shirt off the floor, turned it right side out, and slid it on. "I've got things to take care of this morning," he said while pulling on his jeans. "I can see myself out." He dodged a flying hairbrush as he was putting on his shoes and socks and promptly left, slamming the girl's bedroom door on the way out.

When Ricky got out to his car, the sky was barely becoming alight with the sunrise and his car was frigid. He ignited the engine and flicked on the heater, then, while waiting for the car to warm up, he opened his glove box and pulled out a small white envelope. From inside he retrieved a small black and white sonogram picture, one that Adrian had given him two months prior. He hit the steering wheel in frustration, sending a howling honk through the silent neighbor, no doubt waking several people up, but he didn't care. There were very few things that he did seem to care about these days.

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"Oh my god!"

"What the hell!"

"Get the fire extinguisher!"

Adrian stumbled down the hall at the sound of George's and her mother's voices, only to encounter the toxic smell of charcoal long before she ran into a suffocating haze of gray smoke. She immediately shoved her hand over her mouth, coughing and sputtering, unable to see a thing for several minutes, until the smoke began to lift.

"Adrian!" Cindy gasped, running to the latter's side. "Thank goodness you're okay!"

"Wha-t hap-pened?" Adrian coughed.

George stepped in from the back porch, waving his hands at a cloud of smoke and quickly shutting the door. "Put something in the microwave?" he asked, glancing at the teen.

"Pancakes," she answered. "But only for a minute."

"Try ten."

"What?"

George pointed to the microwave, which was still smoking. It had been paused on its countdown at three minutes and forty-eight seconds. "You must've hit an extra zero by mistake." He coughed and waved his hand around. The fan above the oven was on and the front door was open to pull the smoke out, while a cloud of smoke could still be seen rising from the charred pancakes on the ground outside of the glass slider. "I'm just glad we're all fine. Except for maybe the microwave." He opened the door, revealing burn marks all scarring the inside.

"This smell is going to take forever to rid the apartment of."

"We should probably get out for a while," George suggested. "It can't be good to be breathing all this in."

Adrian frowned. "You might want to, uh, put some clothes on first." She'd only just then realized that her mother was wrapped in her forest green bed sheet, while George had nothing on but his boxers. "You're creepin' me out enough as it is."

Cindy's face flushed. "Yeah, I'll be right back…"

Adrian watched her mother vanish back to her room and then turned to George, trying to avoid allowing her eyes to look at anything other than his face. "Thanks for putting that out by the way," she said sheepishly.

George wiggled his finger at the smoke alarm. "Guess we should probably get those looked at too, huh? Gotta look at the bright side: this may smell horrible, but at least nobody was hurt and it did bring an important issue to our attention."

"I'm more of a glass-half-empty person myself, but whatever floats your boat." She pointed to the hall. "I'm gonna go get dressed now, I suggest you do the same."

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Ben clutched his chest as he ran down the sidewalk. Oh how he despised running! But for her, he would. "Amy!" Even at a distance, he could see the back of her glossy brown hair from the bench, the same bench in front of the fountain, where he'd told her about Adrian and the baby.

Amy turned around at the sound of his face. She was shaking when he got to her, face streaked with tears. "B-B-en," she choked. Her eyes were scrunched into little slits and she was practically swallowing giant gulps of the cold January air.

Ben immediately slid off his jacket and shouldered her with it, then wrapped his arms around her as extra comfort, pulling her close. "I came as soon as I…as I got your text message," he said breathlessly. "What's the - the matter?"

Amy shook her head into Ben's shoulder, still sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Ben. I shouldn't have texted you."

"It's okay," he assured. "You know you can text me any time. I'm here for you, Amy. You've been here for me for the last couple months with the pregnancy and it's my turn to be here for you."

Amy shook her head. "It's not that," she cried. "It's that I'm being selfish, I don't want to put you in a bad position. It's already strained enough as it is."

"What're you talking about?"

Amy shook her head and stared straight forward at the fountain. It wasn't running this time of year. "Never mind."

"No, you called me here for a reason."

"Because you're the only one who I wanted to talk to. I mean, I could talk to Lauren or Madison, but…they wouldn't understand, they wouldn't be there for me the way you are." Amy pulled a tattered tissue from her pocket and wiped her dripping red nose and leaking eyes.

"Then tell me what's wrong. Whatever it is, I can take it."

"You really wanna know?"

Ben nodded.

"I hate her. I hate her, Ben. I really do. Her and her mother!"

"Her who?"

"Adrian!"

Ben blanched. Despite a rough start, things between him, Adrian, and Ricky had finally fallen into a rhythm that he convinced himself he was able to live with for the remainder of the pregnancy. "What happened?"

"It's my dad," she whispered. "I found out who he's been cheating on my mom with…where he's been staying since he left her: with Cindy Lee."

"What? No! That can't be, how can that be? I would've known if-"

"How many times do you ever go over to Adrian's apartment?"

Ben shrugged. "I've only been there…two or three times."

Amy nodded. "Easy enough for him not be around."

Ben hugged her again. "How did you find out?"

"I was up early this morning. Actually, I'd been up all night, working on this English essay that's a third of my overall grade. And so I went downstairs to get something to eat and I heard my mom talking to Mimsy." In response to Ben's confusion she clarified, "My grandmother." She sniffed. "She sounded like she'd been crying, then I heard her utter the words 'divorce' and 'cheating slime ball.' I know I shouldn't have done it, but I went back upstairs and picked up the other line to listen. Turns out she's been following him when Ashley and I have been at school, taking pictures and whatnot, and he's been living at Adrian's."

"This is insane!"

"You know, somewhere deep in my heart, I knew that after he came back from his supposed business trip and moved out that she was right about the affair, but I never could've guessed that it was with Adrian's mother. That just takes it to a whole new level. If it was someone I didn't know – or know of, in this case – it wouldn't have the same weight in my head, but it's not. It's Adrian! She already managed to dig her claws into you, Ben, and now her mother has taken my dad away from me too."

"Adrian didn't take me away from you, she couldn't. I'm here with you right now, aren't I?"

"As my friend. But she still ruined the relationship we had."

"Amy, that's not fair. You said that you wanted space, remember?"

"Yeah, but if she hadn't seduced you, I wouldn't have needed the space in the first place and we'd be happy right now."

Ben shook his head. "You're just saying that because you're upset about your dad and Cindy." He tried to hug her, but she pushed him away.

"No I'm not! God! I'm so stupid, I should have never told you anything in the first place! I don't know what I was thinking." Amy turned away from him and began to cry again. "I wasn't thinking. I was just acting on the fact that I needed someone. But now I've gone and hurt us both. Just go, Ben. I'm sorry I even bothered you, it's not fair. I just need to deal with this by myself."

"Don't be like that-"

"Don't. Please don't. Just leave. I don't want to talk anymore. This was a stupid, selfish idea on my part."

Ben moved his hand to touch her, but stopped himself short. "I wish I could take it all back," he whispered. "I wish I could take back all the pain I've caused you. And your father. If there was a way for me to wipe it all clean, I would."

"But there's not and that's the whole point."

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"Say cheater!"

Adrian stepped out of the door just in time to be blinded by the flash of light that preceded an unfamiliar female voice. She stopped in her tracks, blinking as her eyes adjusted, and then realized she was staring at her mother and George, frozen with their arms around one another, as a vengeful looking redhead pointed a camera at them.

"Did you think you could keep this up forever, George?"

Puzzled, Adrian turned to Cindy. "Mom?"

"Do you two have anything to say for yourselves?"

"Who is this?" Adrian demanded.

The redhead turned a pair of wild eyes on Adrian. "I don't think we've been introduced: I'm Anne. Anne Juergens, George's wife." Anne looked Adrian up and down. "And you must be Adrian. I've heard a lot about you. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I see."

Adrian curled her fist. "And just what is that supposed to mean?"

George quickly stepped between their lines of sight. "Ladies, ladies!" he laughed nervously. "Let's not say or do anything we're going to regret here, okay? Anne, come on, we'll go talk-"

"No, I'm done talking, George. You've played me like the fool that I am," she clapped to emphasize herself, "so good on you. But now I've played you too." She reached into the sack on her shoulder and shoved a thick padded yellow envelope at him. "Don't worry, I've got the originals, so you can have those. You can think about those while you're signing these." Next, she handed him a manila folder from her sack. "If you see anything in those papers that you feel fit to disagree with, just refer back to that envelope, okay?" With a scornful look at Cindy, Anne turned on her heel and left the hallway.

George swallowed uneasily as he looked at Cindy. The look on his face made it clear he had no idea what to say or if he should say anything at all for that matter.

Cindy moved to Adrian's side and pulled her daughter into the crook of her curves. "You know what, George. Maybe Adrian and I should just get away for the afternoon while you…handle whatever you need to handle."

"Yeah," he agreed solemnly. He disappeared back into the smoky condo without protest.

Adrian jerked away from her mother. "I don't understand you. Why do you always have to go for the married men, huh?"

Cindy raised a warning finger. "Don't you dare use that tone with me, Adrian! ¡Que no son perfectos y no soy ni yo!"

"¡Y a veces me gustaría no era tanto como quieras!"

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"Where have you been all night?" Margaret demanded as soon as her foster son came through the door.

Ricky bypassed her. "I had a couple of prior engagements."

"This has to stop!" Margaret warned, stepping into Ricky's path. "You have a baby on the way, you can't just continue to go out and have sex whenever you're feeling upset with your life."

"Might have a baby on the way. And yes, I can. Some people do drugs, some people suffer silently, and me? I have sex. I deal. As long as I can juggle it all, why should you care anyway? It's not like I'm out there getting high and or drunk."

"No, you're out there risking sexually transmitted diseases and creating life, it's just as dangerous in its own way! I'm so disappointed in you right now, Ricky. I know you're better than this."

Ricky flinched. Margaret was one of the few people in his life that he wanted to have respect from. For all intents and purposes, she was his mother, and to have her saying she was disappointed in him felt like a butcher blade to his gut.

"I think you need a little less free time if this is how you're going to spend it, Ricky."

"What? You're grounding me then?"

Margaret picked up the morning paper and shoved it into his arms. "No, I'm telling you to take your cold shower and then begin looking in the classifieds: you're getting a job."

Ricky's hands trembled as he held the paper. Truth be told, he had considered the possibility for a while, but then that nagging thought that Ben was the real father reared its ugly head again, and it made him disgusted with the idea of trying to support Adrian and someone else's child with his hard earned money, so the idea had been abandon.

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"I don't want to fight with you anymore, Adrian." Cindy looked into her cup of coffee. They were sitting at a glass table with a shaded umbrella top at an outside bistro. "I'm so tired of fighting, but they seem to just keep coming. Why is that?"

Adrian swirled the straw in her blueberry-pomegranate smoothie. "I don't know. It seems I keep getting into fights with everyone lately. Can I blame it on the hormones?"

Cindy chuckled, but it only lasted a second. "I know you don't want to hear it, Chica, but some things need to change. You've told me that you don't know if you want to keep the baby yet or not."

"Yeah? I still have a few months."

"But you can't wait until the last minute for a decision like this. I understand why you want to wait for the paternity test, I have a feeling you're still going about this the wrong way. You don't think that you're going to just give the baby up for adoption if it's the wrong boy's, do you?"

Adrian slipped her lips around her straw and took a nice long drink.

"Adrian," her mother sighed. "You can't plan your life around Ricky. Things between you and Ricky aren't even going well right now."

"They're not going bad."

"But they aren't as good as they were before the baby, are they? He's still off having sex with other girls, isn't he?"

Adrian shrugged. "It's the way he deals, okay?"

"And will that be the way he deals once the baby comes and everything goes to hell in a hand basket?"

"No!"

"How can you be sure?" Cindy pushed her coffee to the side and reached across the table, taking her daughter's hands. "Look, honey. You need to decide whether or not you want the baby – no matter whose baby it is – because everything else is going to pivot on that. If you want the baby, then you're going to need to find work and insurance. I can't support three of us. And you'll have to start purchasing supplies ahead of time. There's a lot of work involved in planning for a baby, Adrian. You have to think about all that. Especially if…" Her voice trailed off.

"Especially if what?"

"Especially if the baby does turn out to be Ricky's. I don't mean to sound superficial, but Ricky isn't a rich boy, not like Ben, but yet he's the one you're hoping for. If it's his baby, you will struggle. Financially, emotionally, and physically."

"But how do I…" Adrian felt her voice crack. "How am I supposed to get a job, take care of a baby, and maintain my grades at the top of my class?"

"And that's the crux of having a baby in high school, Chica."

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It was dark by the time the time they got home. When Adrian entered the house, the first thing she noticed was the burnt smell seemed to be worse than when they'd left. "It smells like burnt popcorn."

"I'll go find George," Cindy said before heading for her bedroom.

There were fans set up throughout the condo and they were bothersome to Adrian, who found them to be too cold. She hugged her arms and moved towards the glass slider. A voyeuristic curiosity washed over her and she stepped outside. On the ground the plate of blistered, blackened pancakes was still there. It looked as if someone had doused them with water. The teen knelt down and inspected them, all melted together in a mass, like cold lava.

When George had made them, they'd been good and sweet, not even needing syrup, even if Adrian wasn't particularly fond of white chocolate chips. But now they repulsed not just her, but everyone else too. It was hard to believe that they were even the same pancakes. With the tip of her nail, she poked at one of the pancakes; it was solid, like rock. Adrian stood up and returned to the condo. Her mother and George still weren't in sight, so she moved to the kitchen.

Obviously, the last craving hadn't blown over so well, so she began to rummage the cupboards for something she didn't have to heat up, then she noticed something sitting on the counter: the folders Anne had given George that morning. She paused, curious, then stepped towards them. First she looked up to make sure there was no sign of George and when all was free and clear, she used the tip of her nail to turn over the front side of the manila folder. Sitting on top was the divorce decree and at the bottom of the page, Anne's name had been signed, and below hers, George's had also been signed.

Adrian felt her stomach drop and quickly closed the folder. As much as she disliked Amy Juergens, she still felt pity for Anne and all that George had done to her by cheating on her as he had. A part of her, deep down, could also sympathize with the loss that she assumed George's daughters must be going through, especially a loss to another woman and another teenage daughter. She thought about the pancakes again, then George, and realized that they actually had quite a bit in common.