She straightened. “No, sir.”
“Good.” He handed her a pink slip. “Mrs. Detlas wants to see you in her office.”
Lauren frowned. “Why?”
“I don’t know, but it is college time and she is the senior counselor.”
Lauren couldn’t have gotten an answer on her applications yet, but maybe she’d forgotten to fill something out or mailed a packet to the wrong address. Like it mattered now.
She gathered up her books and papers, put everything in her backpack, and walked across campus to the school’s main office. It was icy cold outside. A residue of snow dusted the ditches and fields.
Strangely, it felt cold inside the office, too. Mary, the school secretary, barely looked up from her work when Lauren walked in, and Jan, the school nurse, looked away too quickly to be anything but rude.
Lauren walked down the hallway that was plastered with ads and coupons for colleges and academic camps and summer jobs. At Mrs. Detlas’s office, she paused, drew in a deep breath, and knocked.
“Come in.”
Lauren opened the door. “Hey, Mrs. D.,” she said, trying not to sound nervous.
“Lauren. Sit down.”
None of the usual banter and no smile.
This was going to be bad.
“I spoke to David this morning. He says he’s thinking about bagging Stanford. He said—and I quote—something’s come up. Do you know what that something is?”
Lauren swallowed hard. “I’m sure he won’t give up Stanford. How could he?”
“How could he indeed.” Mrs. Detlas tapped her pen on the desk while she eyed Lauren. “Naturally, I was concerned. The Hayneses are an important family in this school.”
“Of course.”
“So I called Anita.”
Lauren sighed heavily.
“She wouldn’t tell me anything, but I could tell she was upset. So I sent Coach Tripp to the boys’ locker room. You know how close he and David are.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So you’re pregnant.”
Lauren closed her eyes and swore under her breath. David had promised not to tell anyone. By the end of the day, the word would be out, if it wasn’t already. From now on, everywhere she went, she’d be the subject of gossip, of pointed fingers and whispering.
There was a long pause, then Mrs. Detlas said, “I’m sorry, Lauren. More than you can know.”
“What do I do now?”
Mrs. Detlas shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. I can tell you that no pregnant girl has ever graduated from Fircrest. The parents tend to throw a fit when the word gets out.”
“Like with Evie Cochran?”
“Yes. Evie tried to stay, but in the end it was too difficult. I believe she’s with an aunt in Lynden.”
“I don’t have any relatives.”
The counselor wasn’t listening. She opened a manila envelope, read the contents. Then she closed the folder. “I’ve already spoken to the principal at West End High. You can finish out the semester there and graduate in January.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re here on scholarship, Lauren. It can be revoked at any time, for any reason. And you’ve certainly given us a reason. We looked to you to be a role model. That will hardly be true in the coming months, now, will it? We think it will be better for everyone if you graduate from West End High.”
“There’s only six weeks left in the semester. I can handle gossip. Please. I want to graduate from Fircrest.”
“I think you’ll find it … unpleasant. Girls can be awfully cruel to one another.”
Lauren knew about that. Back before Project Geek No More, when she’d looked wrong and spoke poorly and lived in the trashy part of town, no one had wanted to be friends with her. In her na?veté, she’d thought she’d changed all that when she remade herself into a girl that fit in. Now she saw the painful truth. It had all been a veneer, a thin, clear layer of lies over who she really was. The real girl was visible now.
She wanted to be angry, to access the ambition and determination that had taken her through Fircrest’s doors in the first place, but all that fire felt so far away.
And she was cold.
How could she argue with the role model stuff? She was a pregnant girl at a private Catholic school. If she was an inspiration to anyone now, it was as a warning.
Be careful or you’ll end up like Lauren Ribido.
“Go to West End,” Mrs. Detlas said gently. “Finish up the semester and graduate early. Thank God you have enough credits.”
It’s where you belong. Lauren heard the words as clearly as if they’d been spoken aloud.
But that was another lie.
The truth was she didn’t belong anywhere.
Lauren returned to class and went through the motions of high school. She took notes and filled out her daily planner with upcoming assignments and talked to her classmates. Once or twice she even smiled, but inside, she felt cold. An unfamiliar anger was spreading through her blood.