A/N: Julie, thank you.

This is a big chapter - longer than I normally post, but I decided to keep it together. It's also the last of the "past" chapters. It's also probably not going to make some of you very happy. Sorry about that.

Thanks to all the readers and reviewers!

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A Change In Me

Chapter Three


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By the next morning I had convinced myself that Joe wasn't acting strange at all. It was probably normal for a boy to withdraw after sharing such an intense emotional experience. And it really had been. I had heard a lot of girls bragging about their sexual activities, but I had never heard anyone describe how deep your emotions would run and how much you felt like you were sharing your heart. No. Sharing one heart. For the time we were connected physically, I had felt like Joe was right there with me. A part of me. On every level. As sappy as that made me feel, it also scared me a little bit too. I couldn't even begin to understand how people could ignore that and just move on to another person.

All day long I dreamed about Joe. About our night together. I think I would have been in trouble if it weren't finals week and most of my time was wasted with study sessions anyway. But, having lots of time to analyze what had happened, I came to three conclusions. One: no way was what we shared the normal experience. Girls would definitely talk about this part of sex if they knew about it. Two: if it overwhelmed me a little bit, Joe was probably really scared. He was a boy after all. And three: I was in love with Joseph Anthony Morelli. And how could I regret sharing something so beautiful with the boy I loved.

With those thoughts in mind, I pushed all my doubts about Joe's behavior out of my mind. But then he didn't even call me that night. Not that he had ever called me before, but since I wasn't scheduled at the bakery, I had hoped he might break tradition. I mean, we had pretty much broken all our traditions the night before, right?

My mind started to betray me the next day as I started to remember the few times I had seen girls crying in the gym bathrooms at the end of a dance. I vividly recalled one girl repeating over and over through her tears that he told her sex would make them stronger. Her friends had surrounded her and comforted her with normal 'boys suck!' and 'they all want one thing' comments.

I'm not even sure I passed my finals that day. I could barely concentrate on anything other than wondering what Joe was doing or thinking.

That night I took a walk around the block that ended up in front of the Morellis' house. I just stood there in the cold, shivering and crying. I was so confused. I thought love was supposed to be wonderful. Only if it's returned, a small voice whispered in my mind. But I knew he cared. He had to. The way he looked at me. The way he touched me. He had to feel something. It had been special. I knew it had been. I bit into my scarf to hold back a sob. I felt guilty for doubting him and guilty for trusting him. Standing there in the shadows of the trees, I started to wonder if Joe was even scared about what had happened between us. Maybe he didn't think what we had shared was special. Maybe he didn't care at all. I couldn't bring myself to go up to the house, and Joe's car wasn't in the drive anyway.

Mom fussed over my red nose and cheeks when I came back in and forced a large hot cocoa into my hands. I listened to her scold me as best as I could, but what I really wanted to tell her was that I didn't care if I got sick. If Joe didn't care about me, why should I?

I wrote a long letter to him during my second study session the next day. Somewhere in the middle of my restless night, I had decided that I should just be his friend. Maybe he was trying to figure out how to tell me that he could love me but since he was leaving he didn't want to have me waiting for him. I think a part of me knew I was reaching, but the moment my mind stumbled upon this line of thought, I ran with it. I wished with all my heart that Joe loved me, but I felt like losing his friendship too would be even worse. I already missed him. I convinced myself I could go back to being his friend. And maybe over time, he would want to see if there was more between us. But he wouldn't ever wonder if I never talked to him again. I knew I had to at least keep our friendship. I could write him and keep up some kind of connection when he was gone. And who knows, maybe by the time he came back, I would be over him. Or we would be even stronger than ever and ready to really be together. In the letter, I never directly referenced the sex but I told him how much I appreciated our closeness and friendship. That I wanted us to always be friends.

I planned on giving him the letter when I got off of work that night, but secretly, I wanted him to show up and confess his love for me. I even left the bakery open until 7:30, hoping he would stroll in and give me his sheepish grin. I would forgive him with a lingering kiss, and then I would demand that he take me out on a real date. Afterwards, we could go somewhere private – not the bakery – and maybe have another chance to make love.

I thoroughly cleaned every nook and corner of the Tasty Pastry, trying to delay my departure. By 9 I had given up on Joe and on the letter. I burned it over the stove in the back room. The flames nipped at my fingers, and the pain seemed to break me out of my trance. I collapsed onto the floor and sobbed into my hands. He wasn't going to come back. Maybe ever. And even if he did have feelings for me, we were not a couple. I had no claim to him.

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OoOoO

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Val came home on Friday for Christmas break with her roommate Maggie. They were going to a house party on the other side of town. My sister had loosened up a bit since going to college, and I thanked Maggie for that. Maggie was a little wild. She came from a wealthy family in upstate New York who would rather buy her another trinket than spend any time with her. I think she thought coming to Jersey was like some kind of adventure. And for whatever reason, she liked Valerie. But she liked me too. And when she saw me moping around Friday night, she invited me to join them.

I was back to holding out on a phone call from Joe. It was easier to keep hoping for him to call than to actually try calling him and facing his possible rejection. I had cried myself to sleep the night I closed the bakery, but I woke up with a new determination to hold out until Joe left for the Navy. I decided to not jump to any conclusions until he was gone. And even then, I planned on writing him a new letter to send to him at training camp.

Valerie actually helped get me fixed up for the party, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. We arrived at the house around ten and the party was in full swing. I recognized a lot of Val's classmates from high school. I also realized that there were some boys I didn't know who took me for another college student. Maggie forced a beer into my hands and insisted I drink at least two so I could enjoy myself and get over my bad mood. I didn't really care for the taste of beer, but I quickly downed the one she gave me and then started sipping on a second one.

I had an okay time. I danced a lot. A few times with some really cute guys. But my thoughts were still on Joe. I kept wondering why couldn't we be at this party together? I headed back over to the dining room to get another drink when I found out that we were.

There he was, locking lips with a tall blonde. I almost tripped into the table when I saw him. Thankfully, the room was crowded with people eating the last of the chips and pretzels on the table, and I don't think Joe removed his face from the slut long enough to notice me. Immediately, my eyes blurred with tears and I could feel my cheeks flaming. My heart was thumping loudly in my ears, screaming at me to turn away. To somehow stop the pain. I spun on my heel and fled to the room on the other side of the dining room, taking the long route and going through the large open room where everyone was dancing. I was practically knocking people out of my way. When I found my spot half-hidden behind an armoire, I just stood against the wall and watched him.

"She's such an idiot!" Stacey Tipton yelled into my ear over the music. She was in Joe and Valerie's class.

"Who?" I whipped around and looked at her, hoping that my eyes were dry.

"Becky!" She pointed over to the blonde that was wrapped around Joe. "She thinks he's going to come back and marry her some day."

I choked on my drink. "Marry her?"

She laughed. "I know. She's been chasing him for months. She's got this whole plan where she's going to send him letters and candy and all kinds of things to keep her in his mind while he's gone."

I closed my eyes. I had been hoping to do the same thing.

She continued, thankfully oblivious to my turmoil. "She thinks just because he's been seeing her that he's going to change. He's a Morelli. Unless he gets her pregnant, he's never going to marry her. That's why his brother Tony married Angelina, you know. She was knocked up. And their mom made him marry her."

"I didn't know that," I admitted. "So Joe and Becky … they're sleeping together?" God, I sounded pathetic.

Stacey laughed. "Every chance she can get. She's been freaking out since he went in for his MEPS."

It took me a moment to swallow back the bile that had immediately come up when I heard her confirmation about them having sex. I took a few deep breaths before asking her, "How do you know all this?" Joe hadn't even told me anything until he was enlisted and scheduled for his ceremony. Of course, he hadn't mentioned dating anyone either.

"She's my cousin's new neighbor. So we have to include her all the time since my aunt thinks she doesn't have any friends."

"Oh."

"He broke up with her a few weeks ago."

"Oh."

"I'm actually surprised to see them here together."

"Oh."

"You doing okay, Steph? You look like you might be getting sick? You want me to find Val for you?"

"No! No, I think I drank too quickly. I'll be fine. Maybe I should just dance it off." I gave her as close to a smile as my breaking heart would allow.

"Sure. Just be careful. And make sure you let Val know if you go upstairs with one of these guys."

My eyes widened. "For what?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "Uh … sex. And be safe!"

"Right." I smiled again and stalked back over to where everyone was dancing.

I was kind of offended that she would think I was the type of girl to sleep with some guy I just met. But then I realized that I had just slept with a guy who never even once called my house. Never took me out on a date. Never even saw me outside of the bakery. Probably so I wouldn't ruin his plans with the blonde bimbo.

I had thought he wouldn't cheat. I had thought he wasn't like that. I had thought that he cared about me. I wiped at a tear as I started to dance with the crowd. I knew I needed to pull it together. The last thing I wanted was for him to see me there and crying. He would probably just assume it was over him – even if he would be right. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

I danced for as long as I could without passing out, one faceless and nameless guy after another. I hoped I was putting up a good front, but inside I was falling apart. Every smile, every flirty gesture, every sexy twist of my hips was all for Joe. Just in case he was watching.

I think it was close to one in the morning by the time I made my way back to the kitchen to get some water. I kept my head down the whole time. I absolutely would not be looking for Joe. He and Becky probably were already off somewhere having sex anyway!

"Hello," a low voice called out to me.

"Hey," I said, scowling at the tall boy blocking my path.

"You're pretty cute," he said with a boyish grin. "Even though you look a little pissed."

"Sorry," I quickly replied. "I'm just thirsty."

"Oh, well, come this way. I have a great drink in the fridge for only the prettiest girls here."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Does that actually work?"

He threw an arm around my shoulder. "Why don't you come and find out?"

"Why not," I said cheerily. I just wanted to forget. It was getting harder to mask the pain. The dancing had been a good distraction, but I also had started to work off those two beers. And after the initial shock, the reality of what I had seen was starting to rip through me, shredding my heart.

I quickly discovered that my new friend's name was Rick as I drank out of his special thermos. He passed it around to several of his friends, so I wasn't worried that it was drugged. I saw Maggie checking on me at one point, and it made me feel safe enough to let loose. I never did see Joe though, and I didn't know if I was happy or sad he was probably gone. Shoving all thoughts of him out of mind, I continued to party with Rick and his friends, enjoying the numbness that the drinking was providing. Eventually Rick took me back out onto the dance floor. He was pretty handsy, but I didn't really mind. I didn't really mind anything at that point. I was feeling kind of like I was floating most of the time.

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I woke up the next morning in a strange room. I gasped as I looked down and realized that I was naked. In my panic, I fell over the sheets as I tried to get out of the bed.

"Hey, Stephie, you don't have to run," a groggy male voice whined from the bed, pulling me back with the sheets. "Besides, I need those covers."

I froze as he draped his arm over me again. "Um… I really need to go. I'm going to get in so much trouble." I took a sharp intake of air as I struggled to remember his name. Rick! Oh my goodness! What have I done?

"I can drive you home," he offered. "Sleep first." He nuzzled into my neck.

"No!" I screamed and pushed him off of me. "I need to go."

"Stephie, calm down. It's no problem. Just let me sleep a little bit longer." He smiled through a yawn and tugged the blankets back around him. "Maybe we can get some breakfast."

"Rick. How old are you?"

"Twenty-two. Why?"

"Well, I'm seventeen. My dad will be freaking out by now that I'm not home."

He bolted up from the bed. "Oh shit! You're a minor? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Why did you get me so drunk?" I screamed at him and then clutched my head. "Ow."

"Shit!" He jumped up from the bed and began digging in a suitcase at the end of the bed. "Get dressed!"

I glared at him, but that hurt too, so I just decided to get dressed.

Once we were in his car, he revealed that he was from Ohio. He was visiting a cousin who lived in Newark who brought him to Trenton for the weekend. He had no idea where he was, and it took several wrong turns before I recognized where we were.

"Um, Stephie, I just wanted you to know that I would never have slept with you if I knew you weren't eighteen."

"It's fine, Rick." I wanted to tell him to stop calling me Stephie, but mostly I wanted to never see him again.

"And we used a condom. I swear. I never have sex without one. I should have showed it to you before we left."

My heart practically stopped. I wasn't in denial about what had happened, but hearing him talk about condoms just seemed to make it so much worse. "That's good," I choked out.

"You're not going to report me, are you?"

"No."

"Okay."

Once we made it a few blocks from my house, I insisted he let me out.

"Are you really sure you want to walk the rest of the way?" he asked, leaning across the seats and looking up at me. "It's really cold."

"My dad may be sitting on the porch. Let's not risk it."

"Okay. Thanks." He smiled, relieved I think to be done with me.

"You swear you used a condom?"

"Oh God, yes. I swear. I'll take you back and show you if you want."

"No! I believe you."

I shut the door and practically ran the rest of the way back to my house. I wracked my brain, trying to remember the details of the night before. I could vaguely recall getting into the bed with him. Some kissing. Some stripping. I stopped running just as I reached my lawn. The condom. I remembered him putting it on. And as soon as I pictured him putting it on, I could hear myself saying I had never seen that done before.

Because Joe didn't do that.

I dropped to my knees in the snow.

I started crying quietly at first. It was as if all the emotions from the last five days had finally come to the surface. I sobbed into my hands and barely felt my dad pull me up and carry me into the house.

"Stephanie," he said softly as he pried my hands away from my face. "Are you hurt?"

"No," I cried.

"Did someone … " He grimaced and looked up at the ceiling. "Did someone rape you?"

I burst into tears and flung myself into his arms. "No. He didn't rape me. I'm so sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," he said evenly. He stroked my back. "What happened? We were going to call the police. And Valerie has been hysterical. She thought someone may have drugged you."

I pulled back and wiped my face with my coat sleeves. "I was drinking. I'm so sorry. I … I woke up in bed with someone."

He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. "Where is he?"

"He's gone. I had someone else bring me home."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know."

I knew I had to lie. My dad would be hunting down Rick in a heartbeat. And I just wanted to never think about the last night again. I felt so dirty and disgusting. I really wanted to take a shower.

He sighed heavily and stepped away from me. "Don't tell your mother. She will be beside herself if she thought someone took advantage of you."

"I don't think anything happened."

I had no idea why I said that. I just couldn't handle admitting to my dad that I wasn't a virgin anymore. Even Valerie openly talked about waiting until her wedding night. Virginal Valerie! I was never going to be as good as her.

He looked at me, hopeful that I was telling the truth. "You sure you're … okay?"

"Yeah, I'm mad at myself, but I'm okay."

"You're grounded the rest of break. And … I hope you realize how dangerous it is to drink like that. God, Stephanie, you shouldn't even be drinking! You're lucky nothing bad happened to you."

I nodded obediently. I couldn't even look him in the eye.

"Go on upstairs. You're mother was up 'til 3 this morning. She'll probably sleep in a little bit."

I felt another wave of tears hit me. I felt so guilty, and I couldn't even begin to think about my realization in the snow. I forced myself to look up at my dad once more, and I thanked him before bolting for the refuge of the bathroom.

I slept as long as Mom would let me. I don't think she knew what to say to me so she sent Valerie to get me up.

"I'm so sorry, Stephanie. I should have never let Maggie convince me that you were okay."

"Why did you leave me?" I asked her, slightly angry.

"She said you left with some friends. I didn't know you left with some guy."

I thought about that. I guess I didn't wake up in the same house as the party. I buried my face in my knees and pulled my covers over my head. "What did you tell Mom?"

"Just that. That I thought you were with friends. I didn't tell them about the guy."

I fell back into my bed. "I told Dad. I should've said I was with friends. Why didn't I think of that?"

"Dad said you were pretty distraught when he found you outside."

"He doesn't want Mom to know." I sat up again and looked at her. "Where's Maggie?"

"She's with Mom, learning how to bake cookies from scratch."

"I was so stupid, Valerie."

"Are you okay? Did …" She blushed. "Did you sleep with him?"

I felt my face twist in anguish. "Yes," I whispered.

"Oh, Steph!" She pulled me into her arms and let me cry on her shoulder. "It's going to be okay. No one has to know."

"I'll know."

"Some day, your husband will understand." She petted my head.

I pulled away from her. "My husband will understand? Thanks, Val. Way to make me feel more like a slut."

She frowned. "That's not what I meant. I just meant that when you marry, he will love you and not judge you for not having saved yourself."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Right," I said, resigned to just let her be herself.

She looked away for a moment and then brightened as she turned back to me. "You want to know what happened at the party?"

"Sure. What happened?"

"Joe Morelli was there with some girl and they got into a huge fight."

My eyes widened and my heart immediately started to race. "Really? What about?"

"Apparently he was caught watching some girl dancing with some guy and got really jealous. His girlfriend got super mad at him and slapped him. And then he screamed at her that he could look at whoever he wanted since they weren't together anymore."

I started playing with the edge of my blanket. I was torn with feeling happy that he kicked the bimbo to the curb and feeling even worse that there was yet one more girl out there that he had been seeing behind my back. That's exactly how it felt. It felt like he had betrayed me. Even though I knew he hadn't.

"Steph? You're not still hung up on him, are you?"

I quickly looked up at her. "What?"

She smiled. "He's not worth it. I know you were kind of talking to him last year. But he's leaving with the Army or something – "

"Navy," I said without even thinking.

She gave me a pointed look, reminding me of Mom. "You still like him, don't you?"

"No!"

"Well, I'm glad he's leaving. He would just hurt you in the end."

I sighed. Too late, Valerie. Too late.

She looked back over at my door. "I met someone last night," she whispered.

"Is it a secret?"

"I don't know. He's… I think he's the one." She practically beamed.

Of course. I see Joe with another girl and drink myself into the bed of a stranger. She meets Prince Charming. "Is that why you weren't watching out for your baby sister?"

She dropped her eyes. "Yes. I'm so sorry, Stephanie. His name is Steven. He's a graduate student at Rutgers. He's studying computer science. We went for a walk and then we ended up at a little diner. By the time we came back, you were already gone."

"It's not your fault, Val. I chose to get drunk."

"Hey, slut!" Maggie smiled broadly from the hall. "You're mom wants to talk to you." She sauntered into my room and plopped down next to Valerie on my bed. "You okay?"

"Fine. No thanks to you."

She laughed. "Sorry. I was distracted."

I huffed and then got up to go and face my mom. I could hear Valerie telling Maggie to leave me alone and not to mention the boy since my mom didn't know.

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OoOoO

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The holidays were a decent distraction from the looming consequences of sleeping with Joe. I was grounded so I didn't get to do much besides watch TV and help Mom with shopping and cooking. But for a short while, I was able to forget that my world could be ending as I opened Christmas presents with my family. Val was uncharacteristically kind to me while she was home. I think maybe she felt the tiniest bit responsible for what happened at the party. I almost felt like maybe we could become the kind of sisters I had always wanted us to be. Until she told me that, even though I wasn't a virgin, God showed us that a man could love a woman that was not completely his since Joseph had loved Mary even though she carried a baby that was not his own. So, so, so many things about that statement upset me. Joseph. Baby. And of course, the implication that I was tainted. She continued with her mantra of God would forgive me and someday my husband would too. And even though I did believe that, it hurt to be reminded that I had made such a huge mistake.

My period was supposed to start by the twenty-eighth, but by New Year's Eve I was starting to convince myself it was late due to me worrying about whether it was going to be late. Mary Lou's parents were having a party, but my dad wouldn't let me go with them. I spent the night alone in my room, wondering how Joe was spending his night. I had not heard from him, and after seeing him with another girl – even if he did fight with her later that night – I was glad he was ignoring me. But I still found myself saying a prayer for him that he would be okay in the Navy. I knew he was leaving early in the morning on January 2nd. What a miserable way to welcome in 1995.

If I could have asked God for my prayers back, I would have the next morning when my dad revealed to me that someone had been writing about me in bathroom stalls. He had been informed by some men at the party the night before. It took a lot of begging from me and promising that I wouldn't be upset, but he eventually revealed what had been written. One apparently said, "Stephanie is one Plum of a lay." Another said something like, "Stephanie Plum gives away free cupcakes behind the éclair counter." And, "The tastiest pastry is Stephanie Plum." Only Joe would have written those things. No other boys even noticed me, and no other soul knew what had happened. Suddenly, all my attention was focused on how much I hated Joe. I even shoved all thoughts about my missing period from my mind.

It wasn't until I got back to school that several boys informed me that they had heard that I could make a "cannoli cream" without even moving. I guess either Dad's friends didn't think he would want to hear that or Dad couldn't bring himself to repeat that to me.

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A week and a half back into school, I started to feel nauseas. It hit me during third period, just when the smells from the lunchroom were reaching my nearby English class. I was very aware that my period was over three weeks late. But I was in deep denial that I could actually be pregnant. I had convinced myself that it was the stress of getting my heart broken and then doing something so shameful as a one-night-stand. But deep down, I knew. I had gone to the public library before school resumed so that I could research pregnancy without anyone knowing. According to the books I read, the perfect time to conceive was usually about two weeks before your next period. But it also had said that not every woman ovulated at the "normal" time. Knowing that I was not ever considered normal was my only comfort as I checked the calendar and noted that Joe and I were right on track to have made a baby. And we had done it twice. And the second time I had an orgasm. This also would help with conception according to the pregnancy books. By the time I made it to the bathroom that Thursday at school, without even asking for a pass, I knew that my time to be in denial had run out.

The next several days were spent trying desperately to return to my ignorant bliss, but the morning sickness wasn't going away. I convinced Mom that I had a flu bug, and she let me stay home from school. When I was still vomiting the next day, she almost took me to the doctor. I completely freaked out, and with an epic performance on my part, I convinced her that I would be fine. So I went back to school, but not before buying a pregnancy test. I even drove out of the Burg to get it, telling Mom I was going to school early to get caught up on my missed assignments.

I had called Mary Lou the night before and told her that I had an emergency situation and needed her to meet me in the bathrooms at the end of the performing arts hall at the school early in the morning.

Mary Lou walked into the bathroom and immediately went to the mirror to check her face. "Your emergency can't be worse than this zit on my forehead." She leaned closer to the mirror and started to probe at her skin. "Ugh! Why won't it just pop?"

Seated on the floor, I tried to laugh at her, but I just couldn't. "Mare?"

"Yeah?" She was still working on the zit.

"Promise me you won't flip out or yell at me or tell me how stupid I am or ask me fifty questions."

She turned quickly, and I knew that she had recognized how serious I was by the tone of my voice more than the words I had said. "Promise," she quickly said and dropped to her knees in front of me. "Steph, you can tell me anything. I love you. You're my best friend."

I smiled, well I tried, but I probably looked crazy with tears streaming down my face. I handed her the pregnancy test.

Her eyes widened dramatically, but being the awesome friend she is, she quickly recovered. "Have you taken it yet?"

"No," I sobbed. "I wanted you with me."

"Okay," she said, putting on her good student voice. "Let's just have you take it, then we will deal with … it."

I nodded, feeling some temporary relief that she was taking charge. She helped me up and then left me to go to the stall.

"You know I ran into Lenny Stankovic last night at Sam Goody. Damn, he's so hot. He didn't really talk to me, but his friend Bucky was talking to me. I think he's cute too, but I just wish Lenny would notice me."

I came back out and placed the test on the sink. We shared a look through the mirror. She took my hand and led me back over to the floor where my book bag was sitting.

"Oh my God! Do you think I had this zit last night? I didn't notice it until this morning!" she continued, and I did manage a small grateful smile that she was trying to distract me. She rolled her eyes. "Of course. I probably did. No wonder Lenny would hardly look at me."

I shrugged.

"Well, I'm just going to think that I didn't. I mean, Bucky probably wouldn't have talked to me if I had looked like this. Shit! I have got to cover it up." She leaned back and grabbed her purse, pulling it towards her. She dug out her concealer and began working on her face. After a moment, she looked at me. "Better?"

I nodded.

"Okay. Well, maybe I should just see if Bucky is interested. Then I can be around Lenny more and he can see my sparkling personality." She smiled proudly.

"Do you really like him?" I forced myself to ask. All I could really think about was that plastic stick, sitting like a ticking bomb on the sink.

"Well, yeah. Have you seen him take his shirt off at practice?" She clutched my hand and gave me a serious look. "I think I could tolerate anything if I got to see that up close and personal."

"Mare, there's more to boys than their bodies."

We both froze, and then laughed. Then I laughed even louder because I was just so stressed. That test was mostly a formality at this point, but I was still holding onto the slightest chance that I wasn't pregnant.

Mary Lou hugged me. "You want me to look?"

"Please."

"Okay." She stood up and then looked back at me quickly. "You want me to be all happy either way or you want me to be honest?"

"Honest."

"Okay." She slowly walked over to the sink, and I could tell she was nervous too. She picked it up and turned away, but I could see her profile in the mirror. She looked … frightened.

I dropped my head and cried silently. I was pregnant.

Mary Lou wrapped her arms around me and cried with me. "I'm so sorry, Steph. It's a yes." She held me tight and whispered that she would be there for me no matter what.

I made it through the rest of the day in a fog, only returning to reality for my daily visit to the toilet during third period. Mr. Hanson was starting to give me grief about leaving for the bathroom each day. Maybe if I handed him my pregnancy test he would leave me alone.

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OoOoO

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I didn't know what to do. I was so scared. And Joe was gone. I didn't even know how to reach him. And then I wasn't sure if I wanted to. I had a perfect alibi. I hadn't even considered it until Mary Lou had said something about the party. She assumed it was from that night. She also assured me that I shouldn't worry about the alcohol I consumed since lots of babies were conceived when people got drunk. I almost threw up when I realized I had already been pregnant on the night of the party. But I was pretty sure that one night of drinking at the very beginning of the pregnancy wouldn't hurt … the baby. In that moment, I knew for a fact I could never have an abortion. Besides the fact that I was raised that it was very wrong, I knew that a part of me already cared about this baby.

The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to let people think I got pregnant the night of the party. There had already been a few comments to me about my wild night. And everyone already thought that I had been sleeping around after Joe left his love notes to me on several bathroom walls. Thank goodness he had made them anonymously. No one knew besides the two of us what had happened behind the éclair counter that cold December night. It seemed like it had been months but it had really only been a little more than a month since I had been with Joe. It was still hard for me to wrap my mind around the fact that we never even spoke to each other again after that night. I tried to not think about seeing him at the party. I tried to not think about the party at all. Ever. Now I was going to have to think about it all the time if I stuck with the plan to blame my one-night-stand. Poor Rick. If anyone ever figured it out, he'd be in deep shit. Good thing he didn't even live in Jersey.

I considered contacting Joe anyway; after all he was the father and probably would like to know. I even tried to come up with a good reason to get his mailing address from his mom. The thought of calling Mrs. Morelli was beyond scary. I had heard that his grandmother was a psychic or could curse you with 'the eye', and I knew she lived with his mother. What would I do if she answered? I was sure she could tell just from the sound of my voice that I was carrying her great-grandchild. Oh no. Just thinking about it made me sick.

For the next week or so, I continued to put off calling Mrs. Morelli. I just couldn't do it. I didn't even really want to tell Joe. At least not in a letter. He wouldn't even be free to come home for who knows how long. And then he would be gone again for years. I convinced myself that him knowing wouldn't actually change anything. I would still be alone and dealing with a baby.

It was getting easier to accept that I was pregnant. Not that I was happy about it, but I was less in denial than I had been at first. And the more I accepted that it was really happening, I also knew that I would be keeping this baby. I still loved Joe. And this was our baby. I may not have wanted to see him or talk to him, but that didn't mean my heart didn't still belong to him. Even if he never wanted to have anything to do with us, I couldn't imagine giving away the baby we had made. I desperately wanted to believe that he or she was made from love. It was the one thought that gave me strength when I just didn't think I could do it. For that one night, we loved each other. And this baby was the result.

I still wasn't ready to tell anyone. I was scared to death about how it was going to be at school. I had seen the other pregnant girls in the halls, their faces always downcast as they suffered through the gossip and hurtful comments. I knew a couple of them had been kicked out of their homes. And I knew most of them had already broken up with their boyfriends. Mary Lou was great. She had caught me more than once watching some of those girls. She always would grab my hand and give me a gentle squeeze. She also called me every night to see how I was doing. She swore that she would not tell a soul and that she would be with me when I told my parents. I couldn't even imagine telling them. I was lucky that most of my morning sickness happened during the day, so even on the weekends I was able to go to Mary Lou's for the afternoon.

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One time, I had to leave during Mass to get sick. I swear Joe's grandmother stared at me the whole time I walked down the aisle. She was a little creepy. Once I was alone in the bathroom, I made sure that the door was locked. I was getting pretty good at the whole vomiting thing. Because I was terrified of anyone figuring me out at school, I had learned to do it quickly and quietly. It was disgusting, and I hated every second of it.

After rinsing my mouth out with some water and some toothpaste from the small tube I had started carrying, I stood in front of the mirror and turned sideways. I was wearing a bulky sweater, but underneath I had on a snug mock turtleneck. I lifted my sweater and stared at my profile. Other than my boobs getting fuller, I couldn't see any real change.

"Are you really in there?" I said softly to my belly in the mirror. "I still can't believe you exist sometimes." I laughed softly. "Until I'm throwing up again. I think that means you're doing well. At least I think that's what those books said I read over break."

I stepped closer to the mirror and placed my hand on my belly. I looked like I had eaten a few chips too many, but there was no real bump.

"I think you're great-grandmother can tell you're here. They say she can see things." I sighed. "She kind of scares me so I'm going to avoid her. But you have another great-grandma who is really cool. You will love her." I smiled briefly, thinking about how fun Grandma Mazur was when I was little.

I pressed my hand into my belly and was surprised to feel a firmness I had never felt before. "Oh my goodness," I breathed. "You are in there, aren't you? Please don't be mad that I'm telling everyone you're a flu bug. I promise I will tell Mom and Dad about you soon. It's just … your dad is gone and I'm not sure what to do about him and … I'm really young. You kind of freak me out." I looked up into the mirror and watched my eyes fill with tears. "But I'll figure it out. I promise," I said to my reflection. Then I looked down at my hand on my belly. "I promise," I whispered.

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OoOoO

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It wasn't until Valentine's Day that I made up my mind to not tell Joe. Three boys approached me in the hall with the cupcakes they were selling at school. They all made references to how sweet my cupcake tasted, and they wanted a trade. Two of them offered at the same time! They figured I wouldn't mind being watched since I was so into doing it in public places. I left school early, telling the nurse I was sick. Which was true. I was sick to my stomach, but I was also sick in my heart. As soon as everyone found out I was pregnant, they would all believe I was a slut. And how could I argue with them? I had been a slut at that party, and they all knew someone had claimed to have been with me at the Tasty Pastry.

I drove to the park and just cried in my car. I cried for having fallen for Joe when I should have known better. I cried for letting him make me feel like there was something between us, enough for me to sleep with him. I cried for ignoring years of sex ed. warnings and not even thinking about using a condom. I cried for letting my broken heart make me drink myself stupid and end up in bed with a stranger. I cried for how lucky I was Rick (the stupid jerk!) had used a condom, but how I could have ended up with an STD on top of being pregnant. And most of all, I cried because I didn't know how to be a mother. I wasn't ready. I was still only seventeen. I wouldn't be eighteen until October, and unless there was something freakishly wrong with my uterus, this baby would be born before then.

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I finally calmed down enough to drive back home. I entered the house, and Mom immediately called for me to come to the kitchen.

"Stephanie, where have you been? Mrs. Norris called earlier to tell me you were coming home sick?" She looked up from her mixing bowl and gaped at me. "Sweetie, are you okay?"

"I think I have the flu again."

"Again?" She frowned. "Are you not washing your hands? You know how germs are so easily spread. And boys your age probably never practice good hygiene. You have to protect yourself, Stephanie."

I winced at her last statement. A little too late for that. I took a deep breath. I just wasn't ready to tell her. "Yes, Mom. I wash my hands. I just caught another bug." I flushed as I found my hand touching my belly, and I quickly moved it to grab my bag.

"Go lie down. I'll make you some soup and bring it up to you later." She smiled at me warmly, making me want to cry again, and then she turned back to her baking.

I did as she said, and I was surprised to find myself growing very sleepy as soon as I lay down. It wasn't until she brought me the soup that I woke up. I sat on my bed, tray on my lap, praying she would just let me be.

"What were you crying about earlier?" she asked gently.

I sat the spoon back in the bowl before I could even take my first sip. "Nothing."

"Stephanie."

"It was the stuff on the walls, okay?"

Her eyes widened. "Again?"

"No. Just more of the same." I sighed. "Some boys were teasing me today, and I already didn't feel well. So I left. You're not mad, are you?"

"Of course not." She tilted her head. "I know you made a mistake, Stephanie, and I know you are truly sorry for it. But it doesn't give anyone the right to make up stuff about you."

I nodded. Dad may have told her about the graffiti, but we had all stayed quiet about what had happened the night I didn't come home. She was still under the belief that I had passed out at the party and woke up at a friend's house. That was probably a mistake too, letting her believe that. I gave her a small smile and lifted the spoon again. I didn't eat lunch since I had been feeling so queasy. I was actually really hungry, and Mom made the best chicken soup.

I knew the moment I got my first real whiff of soup that I was in trouble. But the spoon was already half in my mouth and the moment my tongue touched it, I wanted to hurl. I choked it down and hoped she would leave without watching me eat. She didn't. I acted like it was hot, and I waited a few minutes to eat. The whole time my stomach was churning.

"Stephanie, you need to eat something. Just a few more spoonfuls okay?"

I smiled, but I had to keep my mouth shut. I didn't think I could bring the spoon to my face again without throwing up all over the tray. She frowned at me. I grabbed the spoon and thought that maybe I could just use mind over matter on this. It didn't work. I ended up knocking the tray off my lap, spilling the soup all over the floor and side of my bed, and I almost took out my mom as I bolted to the bathroom.

I sat on the floor, crying. I hated to throw up. And now I was doing it off and on throughout the day. I didn't think I could keep this up any longer. My mom ran into the bathroom and frowned at me. She opened the cabinet and grabbed some cleaner and Lysol to go clean my mess.

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, Dad came up to the bathroom and stared at me expectantly.

"You done in here?"

"Frank, she's sick. Leave her alone," Mom called from my room.

He huffed slightly, and I noticed he had his newspaper folded under his arm.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed. For so many reasons.

Mom came back in and crouched down to put the cleaning supplies away. She smiled at me and then turned to shut the cabinet. She froze.

"What is it? Is it a mouse?" Dad asked from the door. "I don't know how they keep coming back. I put the poison out."

Mom stayed silent, but she fell onto her bottom on the floor. Her mouth was pressed into a hard line. She shifted to face me, and I could see pain written across her face. She pulled out the brand new box of tampons that she bought me the last day we went Christmas shopping.

"No," she said softly. "No, no, no."

"What is it? Helen?"

I covered my face with my hands. "I'm sorry," I wailed. "I'm so sorry."

Dad stepped into the bathroom and knelt down next to my mother, who was glaring at me. "Oh God," he breathed. He looked up at me. "Stephanie!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Stephanie, you said nothing happened!"

"I know," I screamed. "I lied! I was scared. I didn't know this would happen."

"You didn't know! YOU DIDN'T KNOW!" He banged his fist against the wall. "Helen, get up. We need to discuss what to do with her."

She blinked, her eyes glassy. "What to do? Frank, it's not the 50's. We can't send her off to some 'aunt' until she has …" She broke down, surrendering to her tears. "Until she has the baby."

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