Page 92 of The Sun
“Of course.” I shifted in the bed to get more comfortable. “Have you ever stuck your tongue to a flagpole?” I asked.
“That’s a hard no. Are you running out of have you evers?”
“No. Your turn.”
“Have you ever accidentally drank spoiled milk?”
My nose curled at that. “God yes. Pretty sure that’s a passage in life. Have you ever seen a shooting star?”
“No,” she said.
“That’s sad.”
She walked her fingers over my stomach, then drew in a deep breath. “Have you ever thought about if you would leave me if I got pregnant?”
The blood drained from my face down to my toes, my heart stalling as I lifted my head. All I could think about was how careful we’d been, about how much her father would hate me. “No. God no, I wouldn’t leave you. Why would you think. . . Are you?” I gulped air.
“Oh. No, no.”
My head fell back against the pillow, my skin tingling from an unwelcome dose of adrenaline buzzing through it.
“Daisy’s pregnant,” Sunny said.
The radio went to a commercial break, and we fell silent. I felt her swallow, and I stared at the ceiling, brushing my hand through her long hair while I contemplated what the hell would happen if that were us and not Daisy. We could be as careful as we wanted, but nothing in life was foolproof.
“Her dad’s gonna lose it,” I said finally.
“Yeah, and to top it off, Ben dumped her.”
“What?” I got a sick kink in my stomach. “That’s shitty. I thought he was better than that?” I pulled Sunny a little closer.
“Yeah. Well. Momma always preaches not to judge a book by its cover,” she said, dragging a finger up the middle of my stomach. My skin broke out in goosebumps. “She’s right. You shouldn’t because some books with pretty words on the inside have terrible covers.”
And wasn’t that the truth?
31
Sunny
New Year’s Eve 1999
Hailey Moore’s kitchen was packed with students from Robertsdale, and a few randoms from Lockhart.
I plugged a finger in my ear and pressed my new cell phone to the other while Mother instructed me for the hundredth time not to leave Hailey’s house. She went on and on about Y2K, and how, at midnight, we may experience a universal blackout because the computers would all crash. “Airplanes could fall from the sky. . .”
I rolled my eyes at that. You couldn’t convince me that mankind could figure out open heart surgery and create the internet but that they hadn’t planned for the calendars to tick over to 2000.
“I promise, Momma,” I said. “I’m not leaving.”
“And don’t let Daisy leave either. Brandon. Ben. None of you leave!”
Laughing, I reassured her we were staying put, and then I slipped the bright orange Nokia into my purse while Hailey’s dad made his way through the crowd, collecting keys.
When he passed by me, he stopped. “You aren’t gonna tell your dad on me for letting you kids drink?”
“No, sir.”
“Good.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Rather you kids be here where at least I know you’re not out driving around.”
