Chapter 29 #2
“Us liking him and him being cute are two different things,” Barb said. “He’s interesting, I’ll give him that. And way too old for you.”
At this, Nicolette couldn’t help but snort.
Barb turned to her, recapping her ChapStick. “What?”
“Are you telling us that you don’t spend every night imagining Hawk’s head between your legs?” Nicolette said, and beside her, Lorelei squealed with laughter. “You realize he and Sam are, like, the same age.”
“You are absolutely disgusting,” Barb snapped, her cheeks flushing a deep red. “Hawk is our teacher. I don’t think of him like that. And not that it matters, but I’m pretty sure he’s actually younger than Sam. He’s only twenty-six.”
“Only twenty-six,” Lorelei said with a snicker. She caught Barb’s glare in the mirror. “Dude, clearly I’m not judging. Age ain’t nothin’ but a number.”
“Since when?” Barb asked her. “You’ve never liked older guys before.”
“I don’t like older guys,” Lorelei said. “I like Sam, who happens to be older. I like that he’s experienced.”
“Gross,” Barb said.
Nicolette rolled her eyes. “When you lose your virginity, you’ll quit being a tight-ass about this stuff,” she told Barb. “In the meantime, when are you going to learn that it’s only fun to make fun of you because you’re so fucking easy to make fun of?”
The toilet flushed and a girl from their high school came out. Megan Lyle. Her parents owned the pet store on Main Street.
“Were you guys talking about Hawk?” Megan asked, washing her hands. “You know he’s here right now with Ms. Fanucci, right?”
“What?” Barb asked, surprised. “Like, on a date?”
“I just saw them at the refreshment stand.” Megan didn’t look happy. “He paid for all their food, so it sure looks like it. She was all giggly and stuff.”
Ms. Fanucci was the art teacher; pretty, if a bit plain, and the only single female teacher under thirty currently on staff. It made sense that she and Hawk would date; Seaside’s dating pool was shallow. Barb looked devastated.
“That’s weird,” Nicolette said to Megan, trying not to sound as aggravated by this news as she felt. “She’s not even his type.”
“And how would you know what his type is?” Megan asked, meeting her gaze in the mirror.
They stared at each other’s reflections. And then Nicolette knew.
She could see it all over Megan’s face, plain as day, even though Hawk had denied there was someone else, accusing Nicolette of seeing things that weren’t there. Her stomach churned at the thought. Her, too.
That motherfucker.
Megan left the bathroom without another word.
“Here, take the money and get the food,” Lorelei said to Barb, handing her the fifty-dollar bill Sam had given her.
She seemed completely oblivious to the soundless, emotional exchange that had just happened right in front of her.
Barb took the money without a word. “And don’t rush back to the car, bitches. I want to be alone with Sam for a bit.”
“We didn’t even have to come with you tonight, you know,” Nicolette blurted, turning to face her.
Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe it was the look Megan had given her, but she was angry, and she needed to fight with someone.
Who better than Lorelei—fun, sunny Lorelei, whom things always seemed to work out for?
“You think it’s fun for us, listening to him finger-bang you in the backseat? ”
But Lorelei didn’t take the bait. She smirked and headed for the door. “Get me a cheese fries and a Coke. And don’t forget Sam’s cheeseburger.”
The images of the food were all it took. As soon as Lorelei was out of the bathroom, Nicolette bent forward and retched pale yellow vomit all over the basin of the sink.
“Holy shit,” Barb said, rushing over to pull Nicolette’s hair back from her face. “You really are sick. Is it something you ate?”
“Worse,” Nicolette said, her voice hoarse. Her stomach heaved. “I’m pregnant. And if you tell anyone, and I mean anyone, I’ll never fucking forgive you.”
Barb’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. Who’s the father?”
Oh god, she wanted to tell Barb. She wanted to tell Barb so badly, but if she did, Barb would never see her the same way again.
And as annoying as Barb could be, it was honestly never Nicolette’s intention to hurt her.
Sometimes she just couldn’t help saying shitty things, and she almost always regretted them the second they were out of her mouth.
Barb was often the closest and easiest target.
She didn’t fight back. And she never held a grudge. She was a good friend. And she forgave.
Scratch that, Barb was a great friend. And if Nicolette told her that Hawk was the father, it would break her hopeful, optimistic heart.
“It doesn’t matter,” Nicolette said, because it was the only thing she could say. “You don’t know him.”
It wasn’t the truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie, either.
Daniel Hawksfield wasn’t who anyone thought he was.
At first, he was so kind, so attentive, so interested.
He was a good listener who made her feel seen and heard.
He told her she could be anything in the world she wanted to be.
He told her he’d never felt this way about anyone before.
And she fell for it, like a fucking idiot.
But then, once he’d gotten what he wanted from her, it all changed.
He told her they couldn’t spend time alone together anymore.
He told her if anyone found out, he’d lose his job, and might even go to jail.
He told her he regretted not resisting her numerous advances.
He apologized for being so flattered by her flirting, and said he should never have allowed her to cross the line.
It confused her. Was she actually the one who’d instigated it? Did she tempt a good man to do something bad just by being . . . herself?
They’d agreed to keep their distance from each other.
Then, weeks later, she went to find him after school to tell him she was pregnant.
She found him in the darkroom, where the yearbook pictures were developed, with Megan.
He looked fine. She looked flustered. She was younger than Nicolette. She was fourteen.
Nothing happened, Hawk had said to her. You’re being ridiculous.
Who else is there? she’d screamed at him. How many have there been?
She’d slapped him as hard as she could, and oh god, it had felt good to feel her hand connect with his cheek, the stubble scraping the inside of her palm.
She’d never hit anyone before, and it felt more satisfying than she could have imagined.
And when she saw the bloom of red on his cheek and the startled pain in his eyes, the thing inside her that hurt stopped hurting, if only for a little while.
Maybe she was her father’s daughter after all.