𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐀! | harry styles

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

WHEN I was twelve, my friend Barbra gave me a book she stole from her older sister's bookshelf, called Mr. and Mrs. Bo Jo Jones. It was about a teenage couple that gets pregnant and decides to live like adults and try to raise the baby on their own.

Needless to say, all they did was fight and break up, and Barbra and I swore right then and there that we would never get pregnant until we were at least thirty.

That book had a really horrible outcome, and I can't help thinking about it since we found out about Fran. Not that Mr. Hendrix is a teenager, but I really don't see how this is going to work out any better for them than it did for the Joneses, living in a garage apartment and stepping out on each other.

I take my break at the Dog and straddle one of the picnic table benches, staring at the ocean and lost in thought on the previous day's events.

Once we got the results, the three of us sat on my floor, silent. I knew what I was thinking, and probably Aimee, that abortion was going to be out of the question. I wondered if I could get a hold of that senior girl from last year that gave a baby up for adoption and out of desperation, again thought maybe Rosalie could help us.

"I can't talk to my parents about this," Fran said, nervously, looking from Aimee and I with big, brown eyes. "What am I going to do? I have to tell Kirk." She looked like she was about to cry, and when I heard the car pull up in the driveway, I said the only thing I could think of.

"I think you should talk to Lori."

Aimee backed me up, saying that out of all the adults we knew, Lori was by far the most open-minded. I guess I'd never really thought about it, but yeah, Lori was probably the hippest out of all of our moms. After some coaxing, Fran agreed, so I went downstairs and watched as Lori took groceries that were going to get slaughtered tonight out of her bags.

"Lori, can I talk to you? About something really private?" The look on her face when she turned around threw me. In place of the watery booze eyes and far-off expression was astonishment.

"You want my help?" This was the second person in this house to declare surprise at me asking for assistance. I put that on the back burner to mull over later.

"Well, it's not me, it's Fran. She can't go to her folks, you know how they are. She has no one else to talk to." Lori nodded, waiting for me to finish. "She's in… trouble."

I could tell the moment Lori understood what I was going on about, her face turned to one of a motherly, concerned parent. "I can talk to her, but depending on how serious it is, I'm probably going to advise her to tell her parents regardless."

"I understand. I'll go get her." Racing back up the stairs, I felt warmth towards Lori. This was maybe the first time I'd ever gone to her for anything.

Aimee and I went out by the pool and gave Fran and Lori some privacy. They were in there a long time, and when they came out, Fran's eyes and nose were red, but she was nestled into Lori's side under a protective arm.

"I'm going to talk to Kirk. And then I'm going to talk to my parents when they get home from their church trip. Thanks, Lori. I really appreciate it."

"Call me anytime, sweetie. I'm always here for you." Fran hugged her, and Lori kissed the top of her head before Fran told us she'd call us in a few days. She wanted time to think, she said.

Watching Lori go back into the house, I tried to remember if I'd ever hugged her besides after the wedding, and I felt ashamed that maybe I'd never given her the chance to befriend me and show affection.

I shake salt over my fries at the table, listening to the kids yelling and birds crying overhead, contemplating life and wondering if Fran has decided what to do. I can't even imagine being in her shoes, and laugh bitterly that I'll never have to worry about it the way I'm going.