Sophia turns to Cabrini, the Key Club treasurer. Cabrini stands, tossing straight blond hair over her shoulder. “So, I spoke with someone at Rayburn Funeral Home during second period, and he told me that the average cost of a funeral is upward of six thousand dollars. That’s not including the coffin and the plot itself, which both cost less for infants than for adults. That’s also not including the headstone. So, we’re aiming for eight thousand dollars, over all. Just to be safe. Anything we raise above what’s needed will go to a charity to be voted on later.”

Cameron snorts. “I say we donate it to Planned Parenthood, in Beckett Bergen’s name. So she can afford birth control.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” I snap as Cabrini smacks him in the shoulder.

The bell rings, and Sophia grabs the flyers and lurches toward the door. “Wait! Take a stack of flyers as you leave!”

I grab my bag and follow Amira around the circle of desks. Cameron brushes past us and pulls Cabrini into an embrace, his hands wandering over her hips.

“All this just because some bitch couldn’t remember to take one pill a day?” he mutters, looking at me over his girlfriend’s shoulder.

“It takes two, you know,” Amira snaps at him.

“In the beginning, maybe. But what good is it going to do a guy to take the day-after pill? Ultimately, this is on the girl.”

Cabrini pulls out of his grip and glares up at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Hey, I’m just shining a little daylight on this thing. A little reality. The truth is that no matter what precautions the guy takes, if a girl gets pregnant, the decisions from then on are hers. That’s what you all wanted, right? A guy has no say in whether or not she keeps the baby, but if she does, he has to pay for it for the next eighteen years. That’s taxation without representation. Wars get started over that shit.”

“Is that what you’re trying to do?” Cabrini grabs her bag and slings it over her shoulder. “Start a war?”

“No, baby, come on. I’m just sayin’ … why should the guy have to pay for the girl’s decisions?”

“That’s a real winner you got there,” I tell Cabrini as Amira tugs me toward the door.

“Mind your own business, baby killer,” Cameron snaps, and the room goes silent. Everyone still in line for a stack of flyers turns to stare at me, waiting for my response, and I feel their focus like a load of stones on my chest. Pressing the air from my body.