Page 63 of Intermission
“Well aren’t we getting sassy!” She sits down, cross-legged, almost on top of my open textbook. “So who’s this new boy she’s so worried about?”
“Noah Spencer. But she doesn’t need to worry. He’s one of the good ones.”
“NoahSpencer?” Gretchen’s eyes go wide, and she freezes, holding a grape two inches from her lips. “You don’t meantheNoah Spencer? The one who was inmyclass?”
“Yes. And he is totally respectable. Ask anyone.”
Gretchen laughs, eats the grape, and pulls another that quickly disappears into her mouth, even though she’s still laughing.
“First of all, stop eating those before you choke. Secondly, what’s so funny?”
“Other than Mom being worried you’re going to get knocked up byNoah Spencer?” She snorts. “Noah is the polar opposite of a ‘bad boy.’ At least he was back in high school. Totally nice guy. Polite, almost to a fault. When he moved here, all us girls thought he was pretty hot stuff, you know? He’s super cute.”
As if I hadn’t noticed?
“But what with the drama queen thing and the fact that he turned pretty much all of us down when we asked him out, a lot of us just assumed he was gay. Except he wassooooreligious. But, whatever. Stranger things have climbed out of the closet than a preacher’s kid who likes show tunes.”
“Oh, so if a guy’s not into you, he’s automatically gay?”
She purses her lips sideways, looking up at the ceiling as if checking an internal database. “Yep. Pretty much.”
“Well, he’s not.”
“You would know, apparently.” Gretchen arches an eyebrow and pops another grape into her mouth. “But I never would have taken Noah for a cradle robber.”
I clench my teeth so hard it shoots pain up into my cheekbones. “He’s not a cradle robber.”
“Whatever.” My sister leans forward, gives me a big grin, and then bites down on a grape without closing her lips. Juice squirts me right in the eye and leaves a path across my textbook.
“Knock it off!” I pull my hand across the page.
Gretchen sing-songs, “Sorr-rry,” and then looks at her phone.
I sigh. “What time are your friends coming?”
“In about an hour, probably. So pack up, little girl. Like I said, I don’t care where you go. Justgo away.”
Gretchen digs around in her purse. “A-ha!” She holds up a small foil square and then tosses it on the floor, beside my Physics book. “Play with Noah Spencer if you must, but play it safe, you hear?”
I gape at the shiny little square. “Is that a—?”
Mother of...she didnotjust casually toss acondomout in Mom’s living room.
Yes, she did.
“I can’t believe you just... That is so nasty.”
“No, it’s practical andsmart. You don’t want to wind up with some disease, do you? Or pregnant?” Gretchen picks up the condom,reaches across me and my stuff, and tosses it into the open book bag just beyond arm’s reach. “I get it. Noah’s a good guy. But you can’t even count on the good ones to be prepared. We girls have to look out for each other.”
“I don’t want that thing! I am not... doing that.”
“You keep saying that, kid.” Gretchen’s voice softens. “But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, just in case you change your mind.”
“But I—”
“You don’t need to get so defensive. I’m just trying to look out for my little sister.”
The tips of my ears heat, and I make a mental note to get rid of the condom the first chance I get.
