If I Tell

the serious talks we’d had too. I stared at the table, remembering once when we’d been goofing around in the living room at home. Mom was in the kitchen trying to help Grandma make dinner.
    He had pressed his arm up beside mine.
    “We’re almost the same shade,” he’d said.
    I’d bit my lip shyly and nodded. “I don’t know anyone else like me,” I told him.
    “There’s lots of people like you. Maybe not in Tadita but in other places. Lots, so don’t you forget it.”
    I looked up at Simon. At his warm, caring eyes. He’d helped me, made me feel less alone.
    And then the other memory flashed in my mind. The sight of him devouring Lacey. It made me feel sick. I glared at him, full of hate.
    He deserved to be miserable. Maybe it was karma. Payback. I shrugged and took a bite of my hamburger, even though chewing it gave me as much joy as gnawing on leather. I choked down a mouthful.
    “What do I know? I’m seventeen. I don’t know how pregnant women act.” I picked up my drink and slurped.
    Simon shifted on his chair.
    I wanted to add that I didn’t know how expectant fathers acted either, but making out with younger women probably wasn’t exactly normal.
    He picked up his chicken sandwich but didn’t bite into it. “God. I’m a jerk. I forget sometimes how you must feel about your dad. I, of all people, should get the dad thing.” He pasted a grown-up, understanding expression on his face. “When my dad left us to go to England, I felt completely abandoned. Like yesterday’s trash. Like it was my fault somehow that he would take off to another country and choose not to see his sons.”
    He put the chicken sandwich back down. “It’s too heavy. I shouldn’t have come to you with this. It’s fine. Your mom is fine.” He picked up his lunch, ripped off part of his sandwich with his teeth, and chomped.
    “Simon,” I told him slowly. “This has nothing to do with my dad or lack of. Trust me. And I really don’t know how she’s supposed to behave. She’s having a baby.”
    “I know. Forget it. It’s fine. She’s just pregnant. I’m being stupid.” He sucked on his straw, drinking his Diet Coke. “I’m not leaving,” he added. “In case you’re worried. I love her. I’m not going anywhere.”
    I swallowed another bite of hamburger. It tasted like lumpy clay and hurt going down. I wanted to spit out the truth, to tell him what I’d seen. Him. With Lacey. I wanted to scream. Purge the ugliness from inside me. I opened my mouth.
    “So. How’s song writing?” Simon asked in a lighter tone, obviously trying to move on to a safer topic. “Written anything new?”
    I held my breath, trying to force myself to tell him what I had seen. I opened my mouth and then closed it, hating myself. I wanted to tell him what I thought of it, of him. But I couldn’t do it. Instead, I just nodded.
    “What’s the song about?” He reached across the tray and grabbed a handful of my fries, shoving them into his mouth. He wasn’t as cool as he pretended to be. Mom said he only ate fattening food when something was bothering him.
    I pushed the rest of the fries toward him. “Have them. I’m not hungry.” I hoped he’d gain 20 pounds. In his gut. And lose all his hair.
    “Well?” he asked.
    “It’s about betrayal. Inspired by things in my life.” I dropped my burger for good. My fingers wrapped around my charm bracelet, and I tried to calm myself.
    Simon shoveled fries into his mouth, still watching me. “Who betrayed you?” he asked. His frenzied chewing stopped.
    “No one. It’s nothing. Just teen stuff.”
    “You can talk to me.” He smiled without showing teeth. “We’re almost related, right? I’d like to help.”
    Beside me, one of the young girls snickered at something.
    “No. You can’t,” I told him.
    Simon leaned forward, his broad smile mocking the rage inside of me. “Of course I can. Some of us guys are good ones. Let’s face it. You’re stuck with me now.”
    Anger flushed my cheeks. Stuck with him and keeping his secret. I started to stand and Simon reached for me. Almost in slow motion, as if on its own accord, my hand lifted. Simon’s smile turned into a puzzled frown. Then a loud bang like a gun being fired filled the air. My hand smacked against his flesh.
    “Jaz, what’s wrong with you?”
    An old woman standing behind Simon gasped, but for a second I saw a flash of satisfaction in her eye. Simon’s face registered shock, hurt, and disbelief.
    We