Page 50 of Home Field Advantage

“At least she would take you to get an abortion.”

That stuns me into silence, and it seems to stun Cara, too. I can see how badly she wishes she could shovel the words back into her mouth like a plate of fries from Maggie’s, but there’s really no going back after someone drops the A-bomb, is there?

“Cara—”

“If you tell anyone, I will kill you. I mean it.”

“I really hope you know that I would fucking never.” She flinches at the swear, a habit that’s harder to break than preaching against premarital sex and reproductive choice, I guess. “I don’t even know what happened.”

“Oh, you know the story.” From tiny, sunny Cara, the weary bitterness dripping from her voice is almost unbearable. “Boy meets girl. Boy secretly dates girl because her family forbids dating. Girl loves boy and gives up the virginity she’d been saving for marriage. Girl gets pregnant, because birth control is a sin. Girl tries to tell her mom and gets an earful of how abortion is the greatest sin. Girl tells boy she’s pregnant and is keeping it, and boy gets so drunk in response that he drives into a tree and dies.”

Oh.

Shit.

“And the baby?” I ask as delicately as I can.

“Girl goes to cheer camp anyway, because she can’t stayin this town for one more minute, and spends the summer training hard and flying through the air while trying not to think about how she’s going to raise a baby who no longer has a father. And then one night, there was nothing to think about anymore.”

“The night you skipped Kelsey’s birthday party because you had bad cramps—”

“I wasn’t lying.” A tear drops off her jaw and leaves a dark spot on her lilac shirt. “It just wasn’t my period.”

I feel sick. I feel… I don’t even know what I feel. I don’t know who this person is standing in front of me, still wearing a tiny swipe of creamy pink mask by her ear. Once upon a time I was the only person she’d have sleepovers with because she wet the bed until she was nine, and now she’s opening a whole hallway full of doors I never expected.

Saving herself for marriage hasalwaysbeen huge to Cara, and I was sure she was still a virgin and would be until her wedding night. I was equally sure that if she everdidbreak her vow of celibacy, she’d be responsible, and failing that, she’d be really excited to have a kid, especially if it got her out of her cramped house and out from under her parents’ thumb. And that wasn’t just me guessing—she’s said more than once that she thought she’d like to go straight into being a wife and mother, that college wasn’t really for her even though she planned to do at least two years at Atherton Community College.

I didn’t know anything, it turns out.

But then, Cara thinks she knows me, too. She thinks I have the perfect boyfriend in Miguel because she doesn’t know our whole romance is a sham. If she knowssomethingis up between me and Jack, she definitely doesn’t know that we’ve been secretly dating for weeks. I’d be a major hypocrite to criticize her for keeping such a huge piece of herself from me, even though we both know I wouldn’t have judged her the same way she’d judge me.

“You could’ve told me. And I’m not mad that you didn’t,” I clarify. “It’s your business. But this must’ve been completely shitty to go through alone. So… why didn’t you? You know I would’ve been okay with all of it.”

“Do you seriously not get it?” The sadness in her eyes is quickly replaced by irritation. “It’s not about whetheryou’reokay with it, Amber.I’mnot okay with it. My values didn’t change just because I strayed from my path for a while. Your validation isn’t what I need.”

And like that, we’re back to Jesus. It always comes back to Jesus. And from what I gather, Cara’s version of Jesus doesn’t have room for girls who think other girls look impossibly cute in glasses.

“Well, I’m sorry about your fight with our Lord and Savior, but I really don’t think He’s smiling upon what y’all are planning to do to Jack, either.”

“Wow.” Cara swipes at her eyes, which suddenly look small and beady to me, and sniffs hard. “So even after all that, you’re on her side.”

“There are no fucking sides, Cara!” I cannot do this anymore. I can’t. It’s not worth it. “Jack is not against you! She didn’t kill Robbie or—” The rest of the words die on my tongue, but they don’t need to be said. “You’re the only one thinking that this is somehow penance. You’ve all convinced yourselves it’s a disgrace to Robbie’s memory to have a girl absolutely kick his ass at football, and I’m sorry, but that’s just fifty shades of deranged girl hate. You’re right—I’m not on your side.” I stalk over to the front door and swing it open, the only time in my life I have ever kicked Cara Whelan out of my house. It’s not lost on me that it might be the last time she’s everinmy house. “Maybe Jesus can help you.”

She sets her jaw but grabs her stuff in a haste and storms to the door, turning to lay one last smackdown. “You’re never, ever going to become captain after this. You can forget about that, and if you think I’m rooming with you at ACC, you can forget about that, too.”

At that, I can’t help but snort. There is no way I’m staying in this town after graduation, surrounded by people who think like this. If that means college isn’t in the cards for me, now that I’m throwing captainship away, then whatever. The only thing I want out of life after high school is to live openly, and Ididwant to do it without losing anyone, but turns out that even in the closet, people can prove to you that they’re just not worth it.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I say sweetly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to share your room with a big ol’ queer anyway.”

Her jaw is still hanging open when I slam the door in her face.

-JACK-

I’m going home.Once the thought hits my brain—for real, and not just an angry aside—it becomes impossible to shake. It’s one thing to push back against the hate, to keep playing no matter what. But even when the guys were at their most dickish, they were still my team—they still ran the plays I called and caught the balls I threw and tackled the guys in my way. (As well as they could, anyway; it’s not like they turned into superstars overnight.) But if they’re not doing that, if we’re not a team anymore, then this isn’t me quitting; it’s me not being able to play in the first place.

I had my shot.

It’s over.

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