How much tragedy does it take before someone snaps?
Raised by the president of the Rogue Dogs Motorcycle Club, who just happens to be her uncle, had given Teresa-James O'Dell a tough skin. She didn't waste her time with the gossiping girls who saw...
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17 years old
"I still don't understand how you knew which formula to use," Jillian whined. The librarian craned her head out of the office to hush her. By the second polite reminder that we were supposed to be quiet, the old man had turned into a gargoyle. Heavy glares and sharp responses.
"The problem tells you what to use."
"No it doesn't." I nodded as I used my pencil to point out the key words. Jillian pouted, slumping into the chair across from me. "How do you keep track of all the formal names? Is it really so hard for them to give both the formal name and a translation?"
"Maybe you should make flash cards so that you can study the differences."
"I thought being knocked up was supposed to make you all sympathetic and lovey because of the hormones." I bit my lip and forced a smile to her. "None of that. Don't be all adorable with mommy smiles. It's starting to make me sick."
"You can't complain that I'm not caring then yell at me for being just that."
"Sure I can, because you weren't being caring. You were being condescending. Big difference."
"Yeah. Yeah." My arms crossed to settle over my child to be. She had been kicking like a soccer player during the World Cup. She. Little Miss Roe Montgomery. If Wyatt found out that I knew he'd murder me. I couldn't help but find out.
Wyatt wasn't able to make it to one of the appointments and the doctor asked, as she always did, if we wanted to know. I don't remember which one of us had decided waiting to find out was a good choice. It was stupid. All we did now was dance around things. Names. Themes. Pronouns. It was starting to make my head hurt. I wanted to tell Wyatt that he got his wish. We were having a little girl.
"You okay, T?" I looked back up to see Jillian hunched over the table studying me instead of her Algebra book.
"A little sore," I answered with a shrug. "What else is new?"
"Sore?" She raised a brow. "Have you talked to your doctor?"
"It's my first pregnancy. Unless I'm keeled over and puking blood, she says it's all normal. The wonders of bringing a new being into the world."
"If it gets worse, please make an appointment."
"Yes, Wyatt," I teased, giving my friend a miniature salute. The scowl she leveled at me was one any mother would admire. "Wyatt mentioned Ollie's been spending time at the garage."
"His mom's been nagging him to get out of the house. Guess if he can't work on his bike at home, he'll get greasy at the shop."
"Soon you'll be the only one who has something to do during the day."
"What are you talking about? You'll be busy, too. Baby Monty is going to keep you and Wyatt very busy."
