Call It What You Want(82)

Deal with it. I sit up straighter. “Does … does that mean you’re getting an abortion?”

She bursts into tears. Her arms fold across her abdomen.

I shift forward and wrap my arms around her. “Sam. Sam. It’ll be okay. I’ll go with you. Whatever you need.”

She shudders against me. “No. I’m not doing it.”

“What?”

“I’m not doing it. I might—I might look at an open adoption. Maybe. But I don’t want to get rid of it.” She sucks up her tears and looks at me clearly. “I went to the clinic on Friday.”

“You—you went by yourself?” So very Samantha.

“Yeah. I went, and I thought about it, and the nurse was just—she was so kind. I thought I’d walk through the door and it would be fast and horrible and it would be done, but—it wasn’t. I thought I would have to terminate the pregnancy or my life would be ruined. She was the first person to really walk me through everything. I don’t think I realized how much I needed that. You know? Someone to show me all the options.”

“Yeah. I know.” I hug her again, then draw back to peer at her. “And you’re okay? With everything?”

“Well, I’m probably going to lose my scholarship.” She sniffs. “Mom and Dad are pretty upset about that. But it’s not the end of the world. I wasn’t—I wasn’t very happy. I loved lacrosse, but it became something I had to do instead of something I wanted to do.” She looks at me. “What you did today … that meant a lot.”

“I didn’t do anything, Sam.”

“No, you did. You did the right thing, when I was about to let him get away with it.” She leans forward and gives me another hug. “You’re always so good at that.”

I give a strangled laugh, surprised. “I don’t think Mom and Dad would agree.”

“What?” She’s surprised.

I give her a half smile. “I’m the big cheater, remember?”

She opens her mouth, then closes it. “Megs, you made a mistake. You’re allowed to make a mistake.”

I chew at my lip and don’t say anything.

Sam rubs at her stomach. “Something else the nurse told me really sat with me.”

“What’s that?”

“One choice doesn’t determine your whole future.” She pauses. “She was talking about abortion. But I think it applies to you, too.”

She’s right. I offer her a watery smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

As I say it, I realize, it doesn’t just apply to her and me.

One choice doesn’t determine your whole future.

It applies to Rob, too.





CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Rob

I’m more nervous about returning these earrings than I was about committing the actual crime.

Midnight darkness cloaks the grounds surrounding the Tunstall house, though the place is lit up as brightly as it was on the night of the party. I’ve been sitting in my car down the street for the longest time, watching the interior lights flick on and off as Connor and his parents go about their evening. It’s been months, but I still remember their family routine as easily as I remember my own.

Dinner in the dining room around six.

Then brightness in the kitchen as Mrs. Tunstall cleaned everything up. Lights in the family room as they watched television. Those went off around ten, and lights upstairs went on.

Now it’s midnight, and the house is mostly dark.

I can do this. I’ll go in, slip into the pool house, and leave the earrings right where I found them.

While I’ve been sitting here, I’ve toyed with the idea of doing this differently. Things between Connor and me are … not as bad. I could probably engineer an invite to hang out later this week. It would be easy enough to slip the earrings back into place.

Or I could keep them. I think of Owen storming away from the lunch table. Somehow this has driven a splinter into our friendship, and I’m not sure how or why.

All of my relationships are splintered, though, so what’s the difference?

But every time I think about shifting my car into drive, my muscles refuse to function.

I’m not like my father. I’m not a thief. I can’t hold on to these earrings for one more minute.

I have a key anyway. I’m not breaking and entering. I’m going to slip in, put the earrings away, and leave.

It’s time.

The lock gives with barely a sound, and the front door eases open. I tap the alarm code into the silent panel by the door and move away. The night has grown colder than I realized, and it’s almost a relief to slip into the warm darkness of the house. I’m greeted by absolute silence. The door slides back into place, and I stop and wait, listening.

My heart pounds against my rib cage, but that’s it. Nothing. Absolute silence.

I slip down the hallway where I kissed Maegan, stepping carefully so my sneakers don’t make a sound on the hardwood. My fingers are trembling when I find the next keypad, the dimly lit numbers barely visible in the darkness.

I tap in the code and press the pound key to make the lock release.

It doesn’t. A little light flashes red and the lock goes beep beep.

I freeze. This one isn’t silent, and I must have mis-keyed the code. I freeze with my hand on the knob, waiting to see if anyone could have heard that.