Then it hit me. It wasn’t Chelsea’s stupid question on the bathroom door; it was Marci’s. The smeared stall door graffiti—“Who Are You?”—was really “Whose Are You?”

“So how far along are you?”

“A little over two months.” She took a deep breath, and I kind of had the feeling she knew who the father was after all. But to me she said, “I guess I’ll have to give up cheerleading.” Then: “Chelsea is going to crucify me.”

I had no idea what to say to her—she was a BB, after all. Well, a Blond Bitch with dark hair, but still. “I’m sure Chelsea thinks being pregnant is better than being fat, right?”

She caught my sarcastic grin, and laughed. “It’s a toss-up.” Then: “Prom’s gonna totally suck.”

My run-in with Marci in the parking lot had put just enough distance between Parker’s pills and me to quiet their whispers. And I didn’t want to be stuck anymore. I didn’t want to be paralyzed in a hospital bed, hoarding my pills so that I could feel the pain that much sharper. Keeping them tucked close to my side for when the pain got to be too much. And then my feet were moving, and I was racing back up the hospital’s stairs to Parker’s room.

“I knew you’d be back,” he said as he pulled out the wash-cloth full of pills. “Is this what you came for?”

I nodded.

“You know, it’s kind of ironic, isn’t it? A month ago, I would’ve done anything to get my hands on drugs like these. And now I have them and can’t take them. A month ago you were shooting me death stares for lighting up, and now look at you. Visiting an invalid just to score some meds.”

“I didn’t come back to share them.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t?” His voice mocked me, and I know he’d caught the sparkle in my eye when he’d first shown them to me. “Are you sure about that?”

I directed my focus on the pills, wondering how to convince him to get rid of them. “I came back because I know you can walk.”

“Wow. So are you, like, a doctor now?”

“You can walk,” I accused again. “I saw you, you know. I saw you walk up to Brian and Curt’s car.”

He shifted more upright in the bed, as if preparing to watch something interesting play out in front of him. But I guess when you’re stuck in a hospital bed, you take your entertainment where you can get it. “Why did you really come here?”

I swallowed. I hardly knew Parker. Was it safe to tell him the truth? But then I looked again at the drugs and realized we shared in something horrible together. Those pills bonded us.