If I Tell

nausea gnawed at my stomach. “He’s not my stepdad.” I pushed myself away from the table. I couldn’t be the one to ruin everything for her. Not now. But I also couldn’t make it through another minute with her.
    “Listen. I meant to tell you right away that I have an English project to finish. I forgot about it, but it’s pretty important and I have to get it done this weekend. Can we go shopping another day?” I stood up.
    “Really?” She blinked quickly. “I mean, sure. I was hoping you’d help me pick out some maternity clothes, but yeah, I guess we can do it another time.”
    “I really do have to go,” I said, feeling worse.
    “You sure you’re okay?” she asked. “You’re not upset about me and Simon?”
    “I’m fine. Just, you know, swamped with work.” My toe tapped up and down, wanting to run.
    “You like Simon, right?” Her eyes widened. Her bottom lip quivered a tiny bit. “I thought you’d be excited about a baby.”
    “I’ll see you soon.” Instead of answering, I turned from the table and bolted.
    The truth was that I had liked her boyfriend. Cougar Bait I called him as a joke because of his age. Too young to be my dad. He was one of the few black people I knew, and we’d gotten along great.
    Until last night.
    Because last night at Marnie O’Reilly’s party, my life had suddenly morphed into a bad imitation of The Jerry Springer Show .
    It was Simon. Simon with his tongue down the throat of Lacey Stevens. My mom’s boyfriend with my best friend. And how could I possibly tell my mom that now?

chapter two
    My back pressed against the brick wall of the school as I huddled over my guitar, blocking out the rest of the world and lost in the lyrics to a new song. My cell rang, interrupting my thoughts, and my stomach swooped like a seagull diving for a fish.
    Oh, God, please don’t let it be Lacey.
    Of course, chances weren’t great since hardly anyone called instead of texting. Even Grandma texted. But for some reason, Lacey hated it.
    I put down my guitar and scooted across the cool grass. Reaching inside my backpack, I grabbed the phone and checked call display. Just as I’d suspected. Lacey. I switched the ringer off and tossed the phone back in my bag.
    “Jaz.”
    I lifted my hand to shield out the sun and peered into the shredded knees on a pair of jeans. “Hey, Ashley. Nice tips.” Ashley’s short blond hair had pink ends today. She rotated the color of her hair tips in a random pattern. Pink, green, blue. She said the colors had to do with her moods, but I hadn’t figured out which color meant what frame of mind.
    “Not all of us have your awesome spiral curls. I do what I can with what I’ve got,” Ashley said in her high-pitched voice. When we first met, she’d confessed to hating that she sounded like Minnie Mouse. Her observation made me laugh, but I didn’t admit it was kind of true because it obviously bugged her. After she’d told me that, I’d suspected we’d be friends.
    “So I thought we were going to meet in the Cave to study before class.” Her voice dipped a little lower, the way it did when she wasn’t happy. The Cave was an old teachers’ lounge converted into a study hall for students. In theory, teachers patrolled it, but mostly they left us alone in there as long as nothing illegal or too noisy went on.
    “Oh, shoot. I forgot. I’m so sorry.” I dropped my gaze to the grass. I’d totally blanked out on our study date. Stupid of me, especially since our friendship was still pretty new and I didn’t want to lose her, the only person my age I wanted to hang out with. She’d just transferred to Westwind for senior year.
    “You forgot about studying?” Ashley held out her slim hand to help me up. “Miss ‘I like to study more than a normal person my age should ever want to’? Is everything all right?”
    “I guess.” I grabbed her hand and pulled, and she stumbled since she’s shorter than me.
    We both laughed as she got her balance. I put my guitar in its case and then bent to pick up my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. “I’ve got a lot on my mind. I really am sorry.”
    Ashley tilted her chin, watching me. “Do you want to talk about it?”
    “Not really.”
    Ashley turned toward the front doors. “Okay.” Her body language said “slighted,” but I couldn’t do anything about it.
    “So you’ve probably been up since six to swim this morning?” I said to change the subject.
    “Quarter to five. We