Anything but Normal by Melody Carlson

jerking me around?” His eyes looked larger than usual behind his dark-rimmed glasses. Sophie studied the color—kind of a blue-green-gray. “You’ll really go to the dance with me?”
    “I guess.” She sighed. “But on one condition.”
    He frowned. “One condition?”
    “Carrie Anne wants to go to the dance with Drew, and unless that happens I won’t—”
    “Not a problem.” He grinned.
    “Seriously?”
    “Yeah. Drew thinks Carrie Anne is hot.”
    “He does?”
    Wes nodded. “Looks like it’s kind of a slam dunk then?”
    “Maybe so.” She forced a smile. “Want me to wear a crow on my head?”
    He laughed. “No, you should leave that to Katie Dannon.” “Sophie?”
    She looked over to see Mr. Young motioning to her. “Yeah?”
    He nodded toward his office. “I need to speak to you.”
    “You’re in trouble now.” Wes winked at her.
    She slowly stood and walked toward the office. She knew it was unlikely that she was really in trouble, not seriously. But for some reason her heart was pounding like she was. She knew it was impossible that Mr. Young had any idea about what was going on with her, yet she felt like he did. Each step felt heavy with guilt, like her feet were thudding so loudly on the floor that everyone in the classroom was listening, watching, like they knew.
    What if the family planning clinic had called the school to reach her? It was unreasonable and unlikely, but what if? What if Mary had blabbed to someone in the counseling center, saying that Sophie Ramsay was about six weeks pregnant and that she needed to schedule an appointment for an abortion ASAP? What if the whole world knew it by now?
    “Come on in,” Mr. Young said.
    Sophie went into the office. Her knees felt shaky, and her stomach seemed to be following suit. Hopefully she wasn’t about to hurl. She glanced at the wastebasket by his desk.
    He closed the door. “I want to keep this private.”
    She felt her throat constricting.
    “As you know, I haven’t selected the chief editor for the paper yet.”
    She just nodded and stared down at the wastebasket. Don’t hurl, don’t hurl, don’t hurl , she told herself.
    “To be perfectly honest, I had planned to ask you to fill this position.”
    She looked up with wide eyes. “Had planned?” Did he know something?
    He cocked his head slightly to one side. “Are you feeling okay?”
    She took in a quick breath and forced a shaky smile. “Yeah, sure.”
    He nodded but looked skeptical. “As I was saying, I had planned to ask you to be chief editor, Sophie. You’re the most qualified for the job, and before school started, I figured it was a no-brainer.”
    She didn’t know what to say. What was his point? Even if he did know she was pregnant, which really seemed unlikely, would he use that to discriminate against her? And if so, would she fight it? Could she?
    “But then school began, and, well, it just doesn’t seem like you have the same kind of enthusiasm you’ve exhibited in the past.” He studied her. “Something about you seems to have changed. Or maybe you’ve just decided that journalism isn’t where it’s at anymore.”
    “I love journalism.”
    “That’s a relief.”
    She pressed her lips together.
    “Is everything okay with you, Sophie?”
    She shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
    “Something going on in your personal life?”
    Without making eye contact, she just shook her head.
    He sort of chuckled. “It’s not that I want to hear about your love life or anything like that. But I do know that it’s not easy being a teenager. Never has been. And hearts get broken right and left.” He just stood there with his hands in his pockets, as if he was unsure how to proceed.
    “If I’ve seemed less enthusiastic,” she began carefully, “it’s not because I’ve lost interest. I mean, really, I do love journalism. But . . . you’re right, I am going through something—kind of a broken heart. I just really don’t want to talk about it, okay?”