I kind of edited in this chapter. It takes place right after Isabelle says that she's her parents' clone. It's just her saying goodbye to a couple of people. The ending is basically the same, also.
Happy Reading!
Goodbyes
Saying goodbye is the hardest thing for me. I don’t like having to think about the fact that I may never see a certain person again. I knew I would see my friends again in around ten months, but I knew it wouldn’t be the same. Ten months, forty four weeks, three hundred and eight days, in a new place where I knew no one. It was a new endeavor I wasn’t ready to face.
But still, it had to be done. I had this little thing growing inside of me, and I couldn’t keep it a secret forever.
I didn’t tell anyone I was leaving until the week before I left. Allison and my other best friends had the same free period as I did; I told them then. There were five of us; Allison, Tracy, Emily, Sylvia and I. Well actually, Sylvia wasn’t my best friend, but she was always attached Emily’s right arm, so there was no escaping her.
As always, we were all packed in my car during the hour period; fixing our makeup and hurrying to finish last minute homework assignments.
Allison was sitting in the passenger’s seat and Tracy, Emily and Sylvia were in the back. The four of them were sharing a bag of Doritos and a bottle of Coke. I was too nervous to eat anything.
“Do you remember when I told you guys that I may be pregnant?” I asked, staring out the windshield. The weather was horrible that day; it was a sloppy mix of rain and snow. I watched the black tar become masked in the grey slush.
Their chatter stopped and was replaced by their unison ‘yes’.
“Well, I have to go to Veneta’s Young Mother’s Shelter,” I whispered with a sad smile. Allison nearly choked on her chip, erupting in a series of coughs. (I don’t know why it surprised her. She already knew I was pregnant) Tracy reached up and started slapping her back.
“What?” Tracy asked between hits.
“I’m leaving this Saturday,” I said, now staring at my pallid reflection in the mirror.
“What are you going to tell everyone?” Allison asked, once the chip had dislodged itself.
“The Italian club is leaving for their abroad study for around nine months, I can make up an illness for the other month,” I shrugged.
“I thought you were going to have that…taken care of,” Emily said, her voice thick with implications.
“Not as easy as it sounded, Em,” I said.
“What about your parents?” Allison asked.
“They’re making me,” I replied, keeping my answers curt. Through the sleet I could see our classmates start to emerge from the building and switch classes. I silently pulled my hood over my head and walked toward the school, leaving them with the keys in the ignition.
For the rest of the week, all of my friends spread the rumor that I was going with the Italian Club to Italy for a majority of the year. Everyone believed us and no one came to question me directly. I just received farewells from people in the halls.
Only two people directly confronted me about it. Carl was one of them. The halls were empty; it had been two hours since school let out. I had stayed late to speak with the principal about my little vacation and to pack up my stuff. After I left the principal’s office, I walked to my locker. I dragged my fingertips against the passing walls, feeling ages of graffiti under them, knowing this would probably be the last time I was in the school.
I was at my locker, filling my bag with all my school books when he wrapped his arms around me, so his head was right at my ear.
“I hear you’re leaving for Italy?” he whispered. I ducked out of his arms and closed my locker.
“Yes” I started walking toward the exit.
“I’m surprised your father let you do that. I always thought he was the type of guy who wanted you under his nose all the time,” he said, keeping up with my pace.
“You don’t know as much as you think you do,” I lamely replied.
“Also, with the new election coming up, why wouldn’t he want you here to promote his family values? He’s done that all the past years.”
“Carl, I’m really not in the mood to talk, okay?” I said stopping once we were outside. I had to lean my head back to see his face. The school was empty. The only cars left were those of the teachers and the football players wrapping up their practice. No one could see us, no one could hear us, no one knew we were there.
“Okay. Well since this may be the last time I see you in a while don’t I get a hug?” He dropped his backpack and extended his arms with a grin.
“I’ll take a rain check,” I mumbled, starting to walk again.
“Oh-no you don’t,” he laughed, grabbing me from behind. I squirmed in his arms, trying to escape the grip, but he turned me around so I was facing him. He moved his left arm to my head and pressed it into his shoulder. My bag fell from my arm as he tightened his clasp around my waist.
“Get your hands off me!” He held me closer, tangling his pudgy hands into my hair. He clutched my head into the side of his neck. I could feel his pulse quicken in his veins. He dipped his head so his lips were moving against my earlobe. He pressed his lips against my skin.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t want it, Isabelle, don’t pretend you didn’t like it!” he whispered. Goosebumps rose on my skin. Tears filled my eyes and poured over. I grabbed his arm and tore it from my hair then twisted out of his grasp.
I quickly grabbed my bag and started running. Tears were falling uncontrollably from my eyes and my hair was blowing into my face. He was calling my name, calling for me to return, as if trying would ever make me like him. I blocked it out, focusing on the slapping of my heeled shoes against the asphalt.
The tears blurred my vision and I didn’t see the person until I slammed into them.
“Isabelle? What’s wrong?” The voice was Peter’s. He caught me before I fell onto the ground. His arms wrapped around me and he pulled me close. I tucked my head under his chin and let my tears soil his shirt. Once I was safe in his arms my tears slowed then finally stopped.
He gently lifted my chin, so his lips could reach mine, and kissed me. I furiously kissed him back, erasing the last time someone’s lips had come in contact with my skin. When we finally broke free of each other’s lips, he didn’t let go.
“I heard you were leaving,” he softly said.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
“Italy?” he guessed, knowing the rumors I had spread.
“Not quite.” He leaned back and let me go.
“Then where are you going?” he asked.
“Okay, so you remember Mike O’Connell’s party?” I asked. He nodded. “Well something happened that night and I have to go to Veneta’s Young Mothers Shelter.”
“You’re pregnant?” he yelled from shock.
“Shh!” I whisper-shouted back, covering his mouth with my hand, still trying to hide my secret, even though no one was around. “If you don’t mind, I would rather you kept that little fact to yourself; I don’t want everyone to know.”
He removed my hand from his mouth, but still held onto it, keeping it in front of his face.
“Who’s the father?” His question was more like a demand. He looked hurt; I guess kissing him like that then telling him I was pregnant with another guy’s baby wasn’t my best plan.
“Um, next question?” I asked biting my lip. I didn’t want him to know Carl did this to me; Peter would definitely go after him and expose him as the little creep he was.
“Why won’t you tell me?” he furiously asked, squeezing my hand harder.
“I have to go,” I quickly said, trying to take my hand out of his grip; “Will you come visit me sometime?” tears were starting to form in the corners of my eyes.
“Please tell me, Isabelle,” he whispered, loosening his grip, to that of a helpless child.
“I really can’t,” I said, my voice breaking. I stood on my toes and kissed the bottom of his chin, I was too short even on my toes to reach his lips. The small hairs pricked my lips. “I’m sorry.”
