Falling for the Ghost of You (32 page)

I grimace at her disappointed tone.  "All I can say is I'm sorry.  I don't have a good excuse, and I deserve whatever you decide to do with me."

Mom just looks at me for a long minute.  Then she sighs and kind of collapses onto the couch.  "Did you sleep with him, Violet?"

"Well, Mom, there wasn't much sleeping involved."

She groans.  "Oh, Violet!  Really...ugh.  Okay, were you at least safe?  You used protection?"

"Um...yes?"

"That doesn't sound very convincing.  Are you sure?"

I squirm uncomfortably.  We definitely did the first three times, but the fourth...it was really early in the morning, and I don't remember...

"I'm sure," I say to Mom, because I want to spare her the gory details.

She covers her eyes with her hands.  "It wouldn't be realistic of me to think this won't happen again.  So I think we should discuss birth control options.  And Zane should be here, too.  I'd definitely like to have a talk with him."

"I don't—y
ou don't have to worry about that," I say quickly.  "We aren't together anymore.  We broke up."

Mom opens her mouth to say something, changes her mind, then opens it again
.  "Oh, honey
.  He dumped you, huh?  I'm so—
"

"Uh, no," I interrupt.  "If anything,
I
...it was—i
t was mutual.  The distance thing, you know.  It was too hard.  Why would you assume I was the one who got dumped?"

She flushe
s.  "Oh, no, I didn't mean to—I
'm sorry, sweetie.  You seemed so upset, so I
thought—it’s not that I think he’s out of your league or anything—
"

"No, I—i
t's okay.  Can we talk about my punishment and stuff tomorrow?  I'm really tired right now."

Mom searches my face intently.  Finally,
she comes over to me and
puts one hand on my cheek.  "Okay.  We'll talk tomorrow."

Thank god.  I don't know how much longer I can hold it together.

It's stupid.  I'm the one that broke it off with Zane, yet I keep checking my phone for messages from him.  Now I wish I hadn't deleted all his texts and calls.  Pathetic, right?

It's when I
'm lying in bed that it
hits me in a sudden crushing pain in my chest.  I curl into a ball, crying out in despair.

Zane. 
Zane. 
I'm not going to see him again, touch him, talk to him.  I've been so caught up in who he really is that I haven't had time to comprehend this huge...loss in my life.  How a
m I suppose to go on without him to look forward to
? 
How am I suppose to face each day, knowing he won’t be in it? 
I’ll survive, of course I will.  I just…it just hurts
so
much right now.

I'm sobbin
g so hard, I don't hear her come in.  The bed dips and then I feel Mom's comforting warmth curled against my back.  She doesn't say anything, s
he just strokes my hair and let
s me cry.

We stay like that for most of the night.  It's exactly what I need.

******

Chapter 33

The next morning, I'm in the kitchen, listlessly eating fudg
e pop tarts, when Bill wanders in
.

He appears startled to see me, and for a moment, it looks like he's
going to turn right back around
and leave.

I watch him internally wrestle with himself for a couple of minutes.
  It’s funny how he looks from me to the door, whipping his head back and forth, until I feel like getting a laser pointer and shining it in his eyes.
  Finally, he addresses me.

"Hi, Violet," he mumbles
reluctantly
.

"Good morning, Bill," I mumble back.

He stands there and rubs the back of his neck.  While studying him, I realize how much Zane resembles him.  As Aiden C
ross, that is.  It's funny how I never noticed before.  Ha ha.

"I'm sorry," he blurts out, startling me.  "About the thing with Zane.  I didn't realize the two of you were...together.  I should have told him to stay away from you..."

"It’s okay
, Bill." I smile weakly.  "Zane did try to stay away.  I didn't let him."

"Oh," he says
, looking
—if possible—even more
uncomfortable. 

He half-turns as if to leave, then awkwardly twists back around again. 

Zane's a good guy," he
says qu
ickly.  "Being Aiden Cross is—i
t's
hard on him, sometimes.  It's—i
t's not who he
really is.  Who he really is—he's Zane.  When he—uh, h
e's never let anyone know the
real
him, unless
he really cares about them.  I—maybe he…
I think he let you in."

Bill's sweet bumbling little speech makes me want to hug him, even if I'm
not quite sure what he’s trying to say
.

"Thanks, Bill," I say.  I offer him a more genuine smile this time.

He smiles back, quick and relieved.  Then he abruptly turns and leaves.

That was nice.  I wonder how he and Mom communicate with each other, with both of them being so awkward and inarticulate.  Now that I've met and lived with Bill, I just cannot imagine him sweeping her off her feet like she claimed.
  I guess being stuck in an elevator for two hours brought out the romantic beast in him.

Huh.  Maybe he's secretly smooth.  Zane must've got it from somewhere.

Zane.

My appetite completely disappearing, I throw my barely nibbled on pop tarts in the trash, and go back upstairs to cry.

The next morning, I wake up with a horrible headache.  I text Lauren to let her know I won't be going to school, and she texts me back saying she hopes I feel better, and to not worry about
her getting a ride—h
er mom is off for the next couple of days, so she can use the car.

Relieved, I turn off my phone and toss it...somewhere.  Then I bury my head under the blankets and surrender to the pounding pain in my head.

I feel like the survivor of a bloody war the next day, but I suppose I feel well enough to go to school.
  Might as well, I guess.

I am so late.  I throw on a rag
gedy old shirt and a long blue
skirt that appeared in my closet one day, origin unknown.

Where is my phone?  I vaguely remember throwing it somewhere
last night
.  Crap, I don't have time to look for it.  At least I don't have to pick up Lauren today.

At first I think it's just my paranoid imagination that people are staring and whispering about me, but by the end of first period, I'm ready to start screaming at all the gawking idiots.  Did Kim tell about Zane?

"What?" I say to  Chelsea Lopez, who has the locker next to mine.   "Why do people keep staring at me?  What's going on?"

Chelsea looks surprised that I'm talking to her.  We've only exchanged smiles and mumbled greetings until then.

"I guess everyone thinks you have the inside scoop," she says cautiously.

I am bewildered.  "What inside scoop?"

Chelsea pulls back her light brown hair, and laughs uncomfortably.  "On Lauren and Mr. Jensen," she says
,
like I should know.

“Lauren and Mr. Jensen? 
What about them?"

Now she looks really uncomfortable.  "You really don't know?"

I grip the edges of my folder tightly. 
Ice forms in the pit of my stomach. 
"Please, just tell me."

"
Ummm
...you know Alissa Shermer?  She caught Lauren and Mr. Jensen making out in his car yesterday morning."

"
What?!
"

Lauren...and Mr. Jensen???  Okay...what?!  What the hell?!
  That can’t be right.  She doesn’t even like him!  Lauren would never…

Then a
horrible
thought suddenly occurs to me.

"I have to go," I say abruptly, turning on my heel.

I spot Damon heading for his English class.  I grab his arm to get his attention.  He immediately backs away, looking worried.

"What's your problem?" he demands nervously.

I glare at him.  "Have you been hooking up with Lauren?"

Damon's eyes widen.  "Hell, no.  I have a girlfriend.  Besides, I hear your
girl, Lauren is into older men—
"

I shake my head impatiently.  "Why do you always look so guilty every time I see you?"

He rubs the
back of his head—guiltily.  "I,
uh, thought you knew I was the one who spread that rumor about the naked pictures of you online."

"What naked—
never
mind, I don't want to know."

I turn to leave, but before I go, I whirl around and smack him in the arm.  "Quit spreading rumors
about me
!  Asshole."

I would have just left, but I'm on thin ice with Mom as it is.  So I go straight to the nurse's office
and fake a migraine.  Ms. Hahn knows me as the straight A student who never gets in trouble, and I'm immediately cleared to go home. I knew my good
girl rep would come in handy one day
.

I drive straight to Lauren's, a million thoughts zooming through my head.

Lauren and
Mr. Jensen
?  How?  Why?  How could she have not told me her boyfriend is our English teacher?!

A zombie resembling my best friend opens the door
.
She looks awful!
There are huge bags under her eyes, and it looks as if she hasn't slept in a year.

"I tried to call you," she says dully, coming out and closing the door behind her.

"I turned my phone off and threw it somewhere," I say.  "
So. 
Is it true?"

Lauren nods tiredly.  "Yeah."

Having her confirm it makes my heart sink.  "Can you...talk somewhere?"

She glances back at her apartment.  "I can't go far.  Let's go outside."

We go to the apartment complex's tiny park and find a bench to sit down on. 

"So
he's the father?" I have to make sure.  I’ve had enough misunderstandings to last me a lifetime
.

Lauren looks down at her her hands folded over her stomach.  She gives a tiny sigh.  "Yeah."

"Okay.  How?  When?"

She shrugs.  "It just sort of happened.  When I started tutoring after school, he was always there.  We started talking ab
out our favorite books and authors, and…whatever
.  Then one night, he gave me a ride home.  He kissed me.  It was nice."

"Nice?" I echo faintly.

"He's different from
all the other guys at school—h
e doesn't
make stupid jokes all the time, or act like an idiot.
  We talked about everything."

"
I told him about the bab
y.  I was really freaked out, and h
e was trying to reassure me...we didn't think there would be anyone around so early."

I take a deep breath, a thousand questions on the tip of my tongue.  "Okay, so he's going to step up and help you through this
, right?   Or am  I gonna have to—
"

"V, he's married," she blurts out.

A white hot bolt of fury shoots through me.  I jump to my feet, shaking with rage.  "What?!  That bastard!  What's his address?"

But Lauren is shaking her head.  She looks so pale and fragile, I sit back down and try to calm down for her sake.

"He's probably going to be arrested.  They're doing a formal investigation right now.  I-I'm dropping out of school."

My jaw drops.  "You can't!  What about Stanford?"

"I don't know yet.  The school called Mom.
  She had to come down to get me.
"

"Oh, god.  What did she say?"

"She cried
," Lauren murmurs.  "
Then she yelled a lot.  W
hen
she finally calmed down,
we had a long talk.  She kind of blamed herself for always working, and never
being around.  Then…s
he said I helped her raise her b
abies, she can help me raise
mine.
”  She exhales loudly.
 
“
We're going to talk to the school counselor to see wh
at my options are.  My grades have always been good, and I have all that extra credit, so…we’re optimistic
."