I’m feeling sick the last day of the semester, but I have to go—I have three finals that day. I stare at the clock all morning, counting the hours until I can go home and go to bed. At lunch, I start to feel nauseous and only have a bottled water. Jamie is sweet to me and strokes my hair when I lay my head on the table.
“Baby, I think you should go home,” he says. I rock my head back and forth on the table to signify shaking my head no. After lunch, Jamie carries my book bag to Mr. Laughegan’s class for me. I don’t bother going through his drawers today; I immediately go to my own desk and slump down in the seat. With Christmas coming and two weeks of freedom just a few hours away, everyone else is in a great mood, test or no test. I listen to the sound of the other kids filing in and taking their desks and I want to die. Jamie lays one hand on my back and talks to Sasha about a movie they both want to see that I don’t. The others are making plans to go to the mall, complaining about visiting relatives, talking about catching up on sleep. Sleep sounds good to me.
Mr. Laughegan’s test is easy for me, even in my weakened condition. I finish first and lay the bundle of papers face down on Mr. Laughegan’s desk. He looks at me, and I know he is taking in my pale skin and blank expression. I smile weakly at him before he can ask me if I am okay. I walk to my seat and think that I should study for my geometry exam, but my stomach is feeling worse and I go back to resting my head on my desk.
By the time nearly everyone else is done with the test, I am wondering if I’m going to throw up. My insides are churning below my ribcage and my
saliva glands are working in my mouth; I may need to make an exit. I try to gauge just how likely it is that I’m about to vomit. I don’t feel like I can leave unless it is a certainty, but I cannot abide the idea of not making it to the bathroom on time. I’m across the room from the door. There is a trashcan between me and the threshold, but that would be a fate worse than death.
The last student lays her test down on Mr. Laughegan’s desk and he stands.
“Okay, what did you guys think of the test?” he says. I bolt out of my seat and run for the door with my hand over my mouth. Mr. Laughegan steps to the side as I barrel past him. “Jamie, Finn, sit back down please,” I hear him say as I run into the hallway.
It turns out my timing is perfect, though I couldn’t have waited a second longer. I kneel on the floor of the stall with one hand holding my hair back and the other holding my tiara in place so that it doesn’t fall in.
Afterward, I rinse my mouth out in the sink and look at my face in the mirror. I’m still pale but I feel much better. I take a deep breath. There are still twenty minutes left in class. I need to go back before Mr. Laughegan sends someone to check on me.
I keep my head down and my eyes on the floor as I enter the room again.
I hear Mr. Laughegan’s voice softly. “Autumn—”
“Oh my God, are you pregnant?” Alexis shouts. My knees lock and my head whips up. I stare at her.
“What? No,” I say.
“Are you sure?” Victoria says. “Because you—”
“Alexis, Victoria,” Mr. Laughegan says sharply. He turns back to me. “Let me write you a pass for the nurse.”
“No,” I say. I shake my head and sit back down at my desk. “I have another test next hour. I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” he says. I nod and sit up straight to show how much better I am feeling. Mr. Laughegan shrugs and goes back to his closing
comments for the semester. “Okay, since we didn’t finish Jane Eyre in time for the final, I’m going to have to assign some pages for you to read over the break.”
Jamie stretches his foot out so that our sneakers are pressed up against each other. I copy Mr. Laughegan’s assignment into my notebook and smile at Jamie.
“Hey,” he says when the bell rings. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah,” I say. Outside of the classroom, he pulls me into a hug. He’s headed across campus to gym; we won’t see each other for the rest of the school day.
“Love you, sick girl,” he says. “Even when your breath smells like vomit.”
“Thanks,” I say. He kisses my mouth and ruffles my hair.
***
I survive my math test and even the bus ride home. Finny and Sylvie get off just ahead of me. They walk down Elizabeth Street holding hands. I loiter at the bus stop and then follow thirty feet behind them until they come to the corner where Sylvie turns off. They kiss good-bye and Sylvie crosses the street. Finny waves at her and starts down the sidewalk again.
“Hey, Finny, wait,” I call out. From the corner of my eye, I see Sylvie turn around and look at us. I ignore her. Finny stops and turns. He waits for me to catch up with him. I’m surprised that he doesn’t look surprised. “Hey,” I say again when I reach him.
“Hey,” he says. I start walking again toward our houses and he follows suit.
“I have a favor to ask,” I say. I keep my eyes on the ground as I walk. “Okay,” Finny says.
“Could you make sure that Alexis and Taylor and Victoria and—” I stop myself from adding Sylvie. “And everybody don’t go around telling people that I’m pregnant?”
“Why would they do that?” he says. This solves a mystery, and part of me is relieved. I’d always wondered how someone like Finny could be friends with girls like them; apparently he doesn’t realize what kind of girls they are. I understand that. I used to not know either. And Finny always thinks the best of people; perhaps he thought that they asked if I was pregnant out of concern.
“Because—” I falter on how to say it so that I’m not insulting his friends.
“You’re not, right?” he says quietly.
“Phineas!” I say. I look up for the first time to glare at him. He looks straight back at me.
“I—” he says. “I mean, they did say it was a possibility—” “No, it’s not.” I say. “I’ve never even had s*x.”
“Oh,” he says. His face changes to the startled expression I expected him to have when I called his name. I look back at the ground. We walk in silence for another minute. We’re coming up on our houses now.
“Could you just make sure—”
“Yeah,” he says. His tone is curt and I think I’ve offended him. It is true though; they are capable of spreading a rumor like that. For all I know, half the school already thinks I’ll be a new mother in the spring.
“Thanks,” I say. He doesn’t answer me. I glance at his face. He’s frowning. We walk up the lawn together and part ways when we get close to the porches. He does not say good-bye to me.
***
I go straight to my room and crawl into bed. I close my eyes and try to sleep. My body is starting to relax when I remember the way Finny looked at me when I told him I was a virgin, the way he frowned.
A spike of ice impales me through the middle. I can’t breathe around the spike; it’s too large. The cold spreads from my stomach into my lungs and heart, but it does not numb the pain.
What does it matter to you? I ask myself. The ice melts into a puddle in the pit of my aching stomach.
My Finny.
He isn’t your Finny.
I know that. But there is a difference between knowing something and feeling it. I’ve known that he wasn’t my Finny anymore, but now he is on the other shore, separated from me by an ocean I am afraid to cross, and I can feel it.
