My Unmarried Pregnant Secretary

5.1

Oh, junkalicious. No.

'On Command' is a stupid game Jannat made up for us all so we can stay true friends without secrets. Anytime someone is caught lying or hiding something, they have to do what someone says right when they say it or else we'll get an embarrassing photo of us emailed to our f*******: friends.

Every picture I take is humiliating, so I've always been careful. Kind of. Last year I had to play it because I did have an extra piece of gum when I said I didn't and I was forced to do the dance challenge behind all the teachers on the second floor. I was caught when I popped, locked and dropped it behind Ms. Hobbit; she used to be a nun. She'll never be the same again.

"No thank you. I remember what happened last year, Jannat. The boy's bathroom is a gas chamber." I was leaning down to take a bite out of my food. . . I don't have food. Yay. Now I can't distract myself from looking out of place once again.

"When do I ever listen to you? Never. So it starts tomorrow and goes through the whole school day." She took a handful of carrots and devoured it, smiling.

Quit smiling Jannat before I shove that Styrofoam plate down your throat. Not that you wouldn't like it or anything.

**::**::**::**::**::**

When I was about to cross the street to go to my car, I glanced behind me at the school because I thought I heard my name. I didn't.

But I saw a figure heading towards the woods again; Akshay. What's his deal? Is he a freakin' werewolf or something? Or maybe a secret Hunger Games tribute?

My phone makes a tune.

'i dont think it's good if I come over while I'm ready to shoot someone's face off. but i might come over when i calm down maybe. ;) '

Oh, thank goodness. I didn't want to have to explain that to my jittery mom anyways. I actually don't even want to go home right now. Maybe I should drop a note off at the news station about how I hate the name, Hold It Girl and that they're fools because this is not a sunny day with highs of 95.

I guess I would need a preferred name if I want to out-do Hold It Girl. Maybe this flower on my arm has an awesome name and not something stupid and childish like 'Baby Breath'.

I get into my car and turn the radio on to the news station because I'm just that bored.

' . . . More information on Hold It Girl.' Ugh! Can they stop talking about me for two seconds?

'. . . seems to be a type of daffodil but from the way it's shaped it could be easily taken as a narcissus flower or . . . '

Narcissus? Daffodil? Those sound like laundry detergent brands. I'm not naming myself after some bleach name! Maybe in a different type of daffodil they sound cool but not i--hey! A different flower name!

I unlock my phone and go to Safari. Slow thing. In the Google search bar I enter; 'daffodil types'. Ugh, typos.

Whoa, okay 'Top 17 Daffodils'? People honestly have no lives.

Jetfire, no. It sounds like I'm a fire truck engine.

Sentinel, what? No. I don't even know if that's English.

Quail, isn't that a fish? If it isn't, it sure sounds like a member of the Bingo VIP list.

Thalia, hmm, maybe.

It sounds threatening and graceful at the same time. Could I handle being called Thalia? I know it could be pronounced differently by everyone so that could be an issue. But it's so pretty.

Who am I kidding? Right now, I'm to the point where I'll name myself, Dirt. Anything to get rid of Hold It Girl.

I suddenly stop moving. My eyes won't budge, I feel frozen in my place. Oh, great. Another vision mechanism. What if I was driving? Would these things care and wait for a red light? Or would they be laughing at me crashing into the Once Upon A Child thrift store?

In my view, I see a male and female next to a bar. The guy is obviously drunk and this situation can't end well. The young girl seems scared out of her mind as she's being backed up into a corner in a deserted area until she hits a back wall and the man plants a hungry kiss on her neck and she tries to resist but he covers her mouth violently with his hand to hide her screams for help. When he shoves her to the ground and towers over her the view goes black and it reads;

'Monday, 2:35 p.m.'

The car clock reads 2:25. Dang, how am I supposed to get there in less than 10 minutes when I don't even know exactly where to go? I'm familiar with the area so I guess I'll just have to roam.

2:33 and I'm walking near downtown on Fourth Street, when I see a guy wobbly passing a few shops. Sick man. He could've stayed inside the building instead of blowing his donkey breath everywhere.

Wait. Drunk man. I frantically look around for the possible girl when I see her walking around the corner of the block on her phone. He's heading straight for her. Yay! I caught him! Now, I ca-

I ran into something. Or someone.

"Watch where you're goi--oh, yuck, look! It's Varnika." Decana. Ew, why is she here?

"Decana, I don't have time for your kindergarten remarks." I try to move around her but she blocks my path.

"I think you owe me an apology because living the life you have you'll never have something better to do." I move to the left, not even focusing on Decana until she blocks my way again.

"Don't think you're going anywhere without saying sorry to me." She crosses her arms over her negative C cup chest.

"Fine! Whatever! Sorry, Decana! Now move!" I push her a little too hard to the side and she lets out a cry of surprise when she's shoved.

Crap! They're gone! I take off running around the corner and as I near it I hear whimpers and shuffling.

Varnika! You're defeating the whole purpose of anonymity if you go around this corner with no disguise you i***t!

Oh, right. I grab my yellow and gray striped cardigan hood, pull it over my head and my mirror Aviator sunglasses over my eyes. Good enough.

Around the corner I see a girl on the ground and a man on top of her trying to choke her as he rips and tears at her shirt. He's stupid in the first place for doing this is bLily daylight.

My eyes begin to heat up again against my will and my forearm burns. Great. Now when I morph into this thing my tattoo seeps through the makeup. Maybe it's going to have to be my signature since it's that darn flower anyways.

I yank at his back shirt and slam him against the brick building wall, cuffing his shirt.

Through clenched teeth and a ball of anger I speak to him. "Being drunk has its consequences, doesn't it?"

He gets tossed across the sidewalk.

I know I'm being too rough but who cares? He's trying to freaking assault someone.

I spot a large dumpster nearby so me being lazy and all, I aim my hand to it and pick it up and lay it down on his foot. That'll keep him stationary until help gets here.

"A-are you, Hold It Girl?" I see the young lady leaning on propped elbows staring at me in disbelief. Hold It Girl. Um, no. This ends now.

"Tell them to call me, Thalia." Without waiting for more people to notice me, I turned around and ran back to my car nearly three blocks away.

I'm a boss, bruh.

I came home. She ran. I chased after her. She hid.

Awesome. I'm a crush crazed, awkward socializing, democrat, teenager who can't find her mother because she wants to play hide and seek against my will.

This can not be normal to somebody of my age.

Or species.

"Mom! Why the crap are you running from me?" I peeked into the living room. "I'm not a monster or anything!" Well, that's kind of a lie.

A head, out of the corner of my eye, peers around the stairwell.

Guess I wasn't really looking very hard if that's where she was at.

She took cautious steps to me and when she was close enough, reached out and quickly tapped my shoulder before retreating her hand. I'm not an abuser, mother. Like dad was. The sick, old hag. I'm putting him in the nursing home. You just wait.

"What's up with you anyways?" Her behavior is getting really questionable. I wonder if she's pregnant or something else she had no business doing at her law defying age.

"Um, nothing. I, uh, just am being a bad mother. That's all."

A bad mother? I won't deny it for her, but that's not the reason she's acting up right now.

"Mom." After my improper statement, it dawned on me. The reason she's scared.

All the clues were there. She started acting up this morning. She's never up in the morning unless for a fashion meeting. And she hasn't had one of those in months considering her workers were just a bunch of airheads that pull fabric and run around like they're in a JCPenney commercial.

She knew.

She knows.

There's no other way she would be up in the morning unless she didn't go to sleep. She only doesn't go to sleep when she's had lemonade or she found something out that frightens her.

"Do you know something, that maybe, involves me?" I took a gulp the size of two moons.

Her eyes went wide and searched my eyes for reasoning behind my peculiar question. Don't play dumb mom, I know you know I know you know what I'm talking about. Shoo.

"What do you mean? Of course I know nothing strange about you! Unless you're lying about going somewhere after school today." She c****d an eyebrow at me and crossed her arms uncomfortably.

"I never mentioned going somewhere after school today, mom." Stare 'til your eyes burn flames time.

I'm winning.

Wait, no crap! This piece of floating dust in front of me is going to make me blink and lose! I can't lose! Losing means--ugh.

I lost.

"It doesn't matter. Where'd you get that cardigan? I didn't design it." She observed my outfit. Oh, darn. If there were security cameras today, I'd be busted. I can't wear these clothes ever again. Well, hopefully a lot of people shop at Walmart because that's where I got this crap from.

"Uh, I bought them. At, uh, Dots. Yup." Avoid eye contact, Varnika. She'll see right through you and reach your lie. When she does, you'll be dead. Literally. And as your conscience, I'm not going to attend the funeral. I'm going to be partying with my friends while you're uncomfortably placed in the casket.

"Okay, fine! I know your little secret! And it's scary! What the heck did you do to yourself to become a nationally known super-thing?!" My mom sounded scornful. What's she gonna do, punish me because I broke into a school, almost got robbed and stole science supplies?

Stupid right? I know.

My mouth touches the floor and then through the Earth's core to India. At least that's what I think is on the other side of this Polar-Bear-Extincting-World.

"Wha-how did you-?" This is all wrong. I'm terrible at keeping secrets. It's barely been a few days and I'm already caught. I suck at this. I'm probably gonna have these things taken away from me.

"I watched the news at 11 when they zoomed in on you. You're the only person I know that had those shorts and those shoes together on. Your figure gave you away, too, obviously. The newspaper did an article and when you're a mother, you recognize your daughter anywhere."

Hold up. My figure? What is she calling me, fat? I know she isn't the most supportive person but calling your daughter fat is just evil and disheartening. I might as well be called a fat girl now.

"You calling me fat, mom?" My eyes squinted at her. Yes, mother. I'm calling you out on your half true statement. I'm only fat on the inside.

"What? No! You're not fat, Sweetie. I was just saying I know your shape. And out of everything I just told you, you're worried about if I called you fat? Do you even know how to control yourself with these things, Varnika? I think you may need to have a break from the public for a while before things get out of hand. I'm not even calm about it. I may look calm and be keeping my stern motherly tone, but on the inside I've peed myself about six times minimum. If you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom now before I make an even bigger mess."

She sauntered off away from me calmly and I noticed her clothes clinging to her "area".

Wait, did she really just go drop a load on herself? Oh my gosh mom, you're so nasty. This is why I never have friends over. It's not because of the theater room's contrasting colors, it's because of you.

I am trying to continue the rant in my head about all the things she may know by now and if someone else may know but I'm cut off by my doorbell dinging.

Who the heck wants to visit me? Don't they know I'm a homebody? My home is my life. Anything outside, stays outside. I don't have time for nature always taking up my space sending its bugs after me to gnaw my arm off. I'll go outside if I'm in the mood. If I'm not in the mood, don't try to drag me out there. You better back up and run because I will throw every object around me at you roaring like King of the Apes.

I reach for the handle of the door and swing it open in a neighborly manner just in case it's the cops.

It's Agastya.

Why is he always here? Doesn't he have a family to attend to? Or a Disney movie marathon to watch? Why can't he leave me and my Not-So-Secret-Crush on him alone? I don't have time to get giddy when I'm trying to be serious about stuff that I overreact to.

He starts to smile wildly at me showing those pearls of his. They're whiter than my grandma's hair.

Or at least when she had hair before she naturally died in mid-air while falling down the staircase.

"Agastya? Why are you here? I thought you said you weren't coming over?" I'm not letting him in for as long as I can. I remember what happened the past two times I let him into my home. They both ended with me running out of the front door.

"Well, hello to you too, Varnika. I'm happy to see you also. Sure, I'll come in." He smirks as he gently nudges me aside and steps in my house. I feel dizzy. That smell of his. A mixture of cinnamon and mint. If I could, I would rip off my nose and surgically attach it to his back. I would be able to smell him forever and ever.

Oh, snap. I sound like a creeper.

I closed the door hoping no filthy bugs got in. "Uh, yeah, hi." We stare at each other with an ear splitting silence.

Then the toilet flushes. Oh, ew. I forgot about her.

"You're mom here?" No, I live here alone and hope I get a visit from my mother every now and then.

He furrows his brows at me. "Uh, Varnika?" He's decimeters away from my face, barely enough room for him to wave his hand in front of me like he is. Oh, no my proximity!

Brain Calculating!

Calculate faster, you stupid pile of nerves and vessels! What should I do? I know that I'll end up doing what I want to do but what I don't want to do cuz if I do it, then that means I did what I shouldn't do! And the girl never does the 'do' anyways. The guy is supposed to start it.

Agastya starts forming a faint smile on his face, eyes roaming my every feature. Of course I'm still being stupid and idiotic and standing still in the middle of a gulp. I can't get it to go down. Not until this inspection is over.

His hand goes to my right cheek brushing it with his thumb as I study his features. His jaw is so sharp. I wonder if he can cut the loose thread he has hanging with it . . .

As I think I realize his face is getting closer to mine. No! I don't think I'm prepared! Why is this all happening to me? I just want to live in partial peace.

"So, Varnika! I was in the bathroom cleaning myself up and I was thinking that since you're on the news and all, I figured you'd need an outfit for whenever you--Oh dear! Agastya!" She stops dead in her tracks once she sees us and clutches her fabric she was holding in her hand tighter.

Embarrassing, much?

Agastya pulls back from me about three feet and starts to awkwardly scratch the top of his head, facing away from my mom.

Look at what you've done. Your awkward daughter could've had something spontaneous happen to her for once if you weren't being so creepily calm about my supernatural situation.

"Oh, no I'm sorry, Agastya! I had no clue you were here! I promise! Just let me go grab my camera and then you can-"

"Mom! No! We have enough pictures of me!" I snapped at her. In no way will I let her take a picture of a romantic, amateur moment. That's why your hairline is receding.

"Oh, right! I'll just mind my old lady's business now! I'm only 41 but you know! Okay, I'll go now." She turns and pivots on her foot making her dark hair swirl and she trips. She instantly turns to me with a glare and I hold my hands up in surrender.

I didn't do it. But I should've from what she just ruined.

"It's okay, Varnika. Maybe another time," Agastya says as he winks at me, playfully and my face flushes.

Curse you, Agastya. . . Curse you! You and your dumb good looks! I hate what you make my stomach do! But I forgive you because I have to or else my body will twitch out of control from my inner feelings.

"Well, I came over because I finally calmed down. I'm sorry about earlier. I know you missed me and all. Five periods without me must've been torture, right?" He's smiling again.

I hate my life.

"Oh, right. The fight." I start to lead him towards the couch so I can be a lazy bum and sit my butt down. "What exactly happened?"

You know exactly what happened, Varnika! You just wanna be a fart and have him say it out loud! You pimple chinned fool!

He takes a deep breath, sending out the minty smell.

"Well, I walked into school, saw Akshay. Ignored him. Turned around later and saw him grab your, uh, busm. So, I got a little jealous and I went for him. Then I saw you standing by and got mad all over again until I was pulled off. Apparently they called my parents and because I'm such a 'Well behaved kid', they are giving me the responsibility of the talent show as punishment."

Aww! He got jealous! He likes me! I'm touched! And mad because my feelings are so strong for this soccer jock. I'm still gonna curse you, though.

Curse you.

"Oh." I position my body to face forward. I'm kind of nervous again. I need to punch my thoughts. They're freakin' rampaging right now.

"If you want to help your number one crush, you could try out for the talent show so I can have something to entertain me?" I whip my head to him in shock.

He did not just ask me to dance.

In front of people.

That I hope to run into a brick wall.

Maybe he means something else?

"Uh, w-what would I be doing? I have no talent to show people." Dumb card, dumb card, dumb card.

He drops his head to the side with bored eyes as if to say, 'You're kidding me, right?'.

"Varnika. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Don't make me force it out of you. You know I can do it." Crap, I know he can too. I just don't want him to.

I'm not ready to dance in front of people. I barely danced for my mom and friends. I especially don't wanna look like a twitching maniac out there on stage if I get nervous.

"I, uh, don't think I can do it," I say making zero eye contact. No matter how bad I want to gaze in his glittery blue eyes. No matter what. Nope. I won't do it.