If I Tell

trendy jean store. “Pick out any pair of jeans. What are you, size four?”
    “Um. Two,” I answered, embarrassed at my skinniness. I headed for the jean rack, my enthusiasm for a new pair of jeans dampened by the mention of the Sperminator.
    Mom groaned, shuffling behind me. “My thigh is a size two right now. Why don’t you try some different styles? You have such a cute figure.” She sounded almost annoyed.
    I made a face and flicked through a rack of jeans. She always tried to get me to wear what she liked.
    “Jaz?”
    “Mmm?” I studied jean styles without enthusiasm.
    “Do you think Simon really loves me?”
    I stopped flipping past pant styles. “What? Of course, he loves you,” I lied.
    Did a man who loved his pregnant girlfriend make out with her daughter’s best friend? If yes, he was head over heels.
    “I’m worried Simon won’t be able to handle fatherhood. His dad couldn’t. He fooled around on his mom until they divorced.” She laughed, but her humor quickly dissolved and her face crumpled. Fine lines deepened around her eyes. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me these days. I’m mad at everyone. I want to kill Simon. Your grandma is making me crazy. I spend every day at work trying not to yell at my customers or cry.” Tears plopped down her cheeks. “Can I have the cookies?”
    Flustered, I handed the bag to her.
    A salesclerk appeared out of nowhere, a sneering teenage girl about my age with curly auburn hair piled on top of her head. She clacked on gum and shook her head. “No food in the store, ladies.”
    Ignoring her, Mom pulled a cookie out of the bag and bit off a big hunk. Crumbs fell to the carpet. “My doctor tells me I’m gaining too much weight, but all I want to do is eat.” She shoved the entire cookie in her mouth and chewed.
    “Hey, no eating in the store.”
    I shot the girl an evil eye and put a hand on Mom’s back, pushing her toward the exit of the store. “You’re not fat. You’re pregnant,” I said to calm her.
    “Ha. I’m as big as a house.” She sniffled and handed the bag back. “Take it away from me.” She patted her stomach. “I’m supposed to be glowing and beautiful. Instead I’m huge. And grouchy. With pimples.” She sniffled again. “Don’t let Grandma throw me a baby shower, okay? I can’t handle a party.”
    “I’ll try.” I tried to think of something reassuring to say. “Anyway, you look great. You’re supposed to have weird cravings and be grouchy, aren’t you? Maybe you’re just tired. You should sleep more. Let’s go. I don’t need a new pair of jeans, anyway.”
    She just stood there with a sad expression.
    “Really, Mom. I don’t.”
    She flashed a fake smile. “Sorry, Jaz. I didn’t mean to wreck our shopping trip. Listen to me rattling on about myself.” She wiped cookie crumbs off the side of her lip. “I’ll take you shopping after the baby is born. I promise. We’ll have lots of time to spend together doing fun things. Like shopping.”
    She reached inside her purse and pulled out keys. “I’ll drive you home.” She sniffled loudly. “Sorry. I’m up and down like a roller coaster on speed, but I’m fine.” She held out her hand. “Give me the rest of those cookies.”
    I handed her the bag without a word.
    “To hell with calories. I’ve been on a diet my whole life. I’m pregnant, and I’m letting loose.”
    As we headed for the exit, I watched her uncharacteristically gobble a handful of cookies. Her bloated face looked miserable.
    “Simon loves you. He’ll be there for this baby,” I said. I felt worse telling another giant lie but she ate it up, just like the cookies.

chapter ten
    At least school was a place that offered solitude. No mom weeping about her size or discomfort. No grandma telling me to get out of my room, off my guitar, and out in the fresh air. And with my grades still hanging in there, teachers left me alone. When my schedule didn’t jibe with Ashley’s, my favorite place between classes was outside. Alone in the unseasonable warmth with my guitar, I closed my eyes and faintly hummed the lyrics of my latest song.
    Betray me. Betray you. I will if I must.
    “What’s that?” a voice asked.
    My body jerked, and my eyes flew open as a gasp escaped my mouth.
    “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Is it okay if I sit here?” Jackson said nonchalantly, as if he came and sat with me at school every day. Which he didn’t. Ours was mostly a coffee-shop