My Unmarried Pregnant Secretary

5.8

Finally, one of the wrestling team members I met, (I think Marion), comes up to her and yanks her away from Decana as Peton yells profanities that no saint should ever say. The ghetto-ness will last a while so good luck to that wrestler who sadly has to suffer through it. He roughly drags her out of the cafeteria and into the hallway to Heck-Knows-Where.

Decana's still on the floor coughing up blood and her two bimbos come over to attend to their ugly queen. The morons can't even think for themselves.

Next to me, Jannat is midway eating a french fry soaked in chocolate milkshake and a cheesecake on her tray. "Since when is that lunch?"

"Since I knew the difference between food and toxic waste. Shut it and let me eat." Fine, stingy butt.

"Well, that was something," Agastya says from across from me, taking a sip of his Pepsi. And he didn't bother to get me one? Okay, then. He looks at me and starts smirking. "Don't worry, I had a feeling you'd want one here." He slides a can of Pepsi to me. That's what I thought.

"How long do you think she'll be suspended?"

"Three days, max."

And we will continue with our lives until then.

.:*~*:._.:*~*:.♥.:*~*:._.:*~*:.

"So what're you doing for the audition today?" Crud.

"Oh my gosh! Is that today?!" I maneuver in the leather seat to face Agastya.

"Well, unless Thursday isn't a day of the week anymore; yes." I don't even want to do this! I'm being forced half against my will by some stupid, amazing, arrogant, beautiful, rude, sweet guy! If only Agastya knew how much I would hurt him if I didn't like him so much--I'd be in Juvie.

A brilliant plan pops into my head. "Wait! You're the judge right?" He turns his eyes away from Lily for a second to look at me, before turning back.

"Yeah?" Perfect.

"So if you're the only judge, you pick the acts. . . right?"

"Yes."

"So if I bomb the audition I can't per--" Of course I get cut off.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. No. No way. I'm not letting you do that to yourself." How dare he! I can do whatever I want to with myself! From doing homework to jumping off of a cliff. It's all my choice. And last I checked, this is a choice.

"Agastya, you can't make me audition, well. If I stink, I stink and you have to drop me out of the act." I cross my arms over my chest "ending" the discussion. There's no way I'm jumping on stage and doing a dance that'll end up on America's Funniest Home Videos to win me ten-thousand dollars. Because no doubt, I'll win and become a viral YouTube, sitcom inside joke between all the television channels.

It just won't work out.

"Varnika; I don't think you understand that I basically change your mind about everything just because I'm your boyfriend. That's how it works: You do what you want until I have a problem with it and then you change your ways, bow down to me and wash my feet." He starts to smile at his own pathetic joke. So pathetic that I can't help but to smile too.

"Shut up, Thies. You can't make me audition. But I'll go to support you. Maybe I can be the second female judge."

He gets this weird look on his face as the light just turns green. "Who's the other girl?"

"You." I almost got a whip-lash because of his terrible driving skills as he slams on the brakes. Cars behind us start yelling and honking, trying to make us move out of the four way street. "Agastya! What the crap are you doing?!"

He calmly looks over at me. "Say you'll audition the right way and I'll move."

"Agastya!"

"Say it and I'll go."

"I'm not gonna--"

"Fine then." He puts the car in park and leans back in his seat. Does he not hear all of the angry rush hour people trying to get places? Does this not bother him as much as it bothers me? Oh my goodness, I can't believe I'm doing this.

"Okay! Okay! Fine, I'll audition! Just please drive!" He leans over and kisses my cheek leaving, invisible but physical, tingles on me. Oh, the things we do for people who we won't remember in three years.

Psycho. Get your crap together and drive before I tell this old lady trying to cross the street that you were the one who ruined Bingo night yesterday. She'll beat you with all the rocks in her purse. I mean what else goes in there? They're old; they probably still carry around feather pens, phone books, and typewriters in those monsters.

"Great, I had a feeling you'd say, yes. I was thinking of a slow but intense song like Bring Me To Life by Evanescence or something." Cute song. It won't matter anyways, I'm obviously going to be in the talent show if I have to be serious, now.

"Okay, whatever. Just take me back to school, then. It's a waste of gas to go back to my house." Oh, this is going to suck, suckers and lollipops.

.:*~*:._.:*~*:.♥.:*~*:._.:*~*:.

"It's hard to believe that I couldn't see! That you were always there beside me!" What is this, High School Musical? Stop it because you can't sing and you need some major surgery on your eyelids. There is no way that's normal.

"Stop. That's enough, please get off my stage. Next!" Agastya sounds so evil. Simon Cowell and him would make good friends one day. The senior stormed off stage taking his girl, curly-haired wig with him. "Okay, Varnika, you're next up there."

"Already?"

He pivots his red, plump chair to face me. "Well, his last name was Park. And your last name is Cary. So it's kind of how the system works. . ." Well, then! You didn't have to make me feel dumb, Thies. I was just asking a stupid question--let me be. I got up from next to him and climbed on the stage. Who cares about this? I can bomb it and he'll still put me on the list.

The beginning of the Evanescence song starts and I lazily pick up my foot and kick it, dead panning Agastya. How's this for an "awesome" performance? I start to skip from one end of the stage to the other, occasionally shimmying and chest popping. No, it doesn't match the song but I'm doing this on purpose. I can't be involved in this talent show. I'll die.

"Stop. Thank you. You've passed the audition." I almost fall forward and choke on my own spit.

"Agastya! You know that was bad!" He looks up from his charted board and smiles showing his teeth that are soon going to be the death of me.

"I thought it was beautiful. Now get down here and judge the other people. Next!" You ritten, low-down, sucker sucking, pimple-not-growing, lean, mean, judging machine! How could you do this to me?

Angrily, I sit down in the chair next to him as the next person comes out. He can go ahead and mark them off of the list because whatever act involves a torch, Lesanieono, flour and mix-matched penny-loafers can't be good--or talented--in any way possible.

.:*~*:._.:*~*:.♥.:*~*:._.:*~*:.

Honestly, I love fast food better than restaurants. They're quicker and don't take half an hour just to get you your drink. Which is why I chose to come to Burger King over going to Texas Lilyhouse. Sure, they have butter that'll make you cry because of its beauty--but I don't find the idea of a purposely littered floor appealing. Peanuts on the ground isn't going to get you an 'A' from the health department.

"So you are going to the bonfire tomorrow night?" Agastya takes a bite of his Whopper. Oh, that jawline. That. . . that beautiful jawline.

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I go?" Oh, crap he wants to uninvite me! This was too good to be true, anyways! I shouldn't have been so dumb to think he'd want to be seen outside of school with me. "Oh my goodness, I don't have to go if you don't want me to! It's okay, I can just stay home or whatever. It's not like I ever do anything else. You have some friends to hang out with so. . . just, yeah." That's probably the fastest I ever spoke before. Not embarrassing at all, Varnika.

Agastya reaches across the mini table and touches my forearm through my shirt. "Varnika, it's okay. It was just a simple question." That glorious smirk appears on his face again. "You're cute when you're worried, though." Any girl would blush at what he just said and that's what my i***t-of-a-self does. "And blushing."

Shut up, Agastya! You know exactly what you're doing! I slap my hands to either side of my cheeks. "Stop it and eat your food, Thies. You're always picking at me." Smiling, I playfully move my arm away from his touch--oh, so sadly-- and glance around the room at the overweight Americans.

That's just sad. What told you that it was okay to eat that much to the point where it's unrealistic? Your mother taught you better than that. Always eat your greenery. Even PopEye told you that. My eyes fall on a girl in the back corner nibbling on a nugget and her blonde hair with blue highlights tied up in a ponytail. Cute hair--but there's a problem.

She's staring directly at me.

Creep mode.

What's her problem? She acts like she never saw a girl come into Burger King with a boyfriend that's way out of her league who looks like she just came out of a garbage bag. Because I see one of those everyday at school.

I hurry up and break eye contact and nudge Agastya with my food under the table. "Psst. Hey." He looks up from his phone and raises his eyebrows. Lowering my voice and hiding behind my swoop bang I could possibly look like a beastly night creature. "Now, don't do it yet--but look across the room at that girl staring right over her--" Before I can finish my sentence he's turned all the way around in his seat, making it a little too obvious that we're talking about her. That's kind of the impression you get when you're watching somebody and they lift out of their seat searching the room in your area with wide eyes. And surprise, surprise: She sees us.

Awesome. When am I going to have a day where it all goes right? Obviously not today because life hates me and wants to gut me like a fish.

He turns back around to face me. "Oh, that girl looking over here?" Oh my gosh! Agastya! Don't go pointing your finger straight at her! You're not helping! I try to hide my face with my hand when I see the girl start to get up from her seat, never breaking eye contact.

She wants to kill me. She wants to kill me. She wants to kill me.

"I can still see you."

"No you can't." I know she can actually hear me but what harm is there in denying it, right?

I hear a laugh escape her lips. "Right. And I'm an Abbagoochie." A what? Agastya starts to laugh extremely loud but covers it up with a cough when I glare at him. Yeah, we don't laugh at Stare Girl's jokes. Even if we have no clue what they mean.

Her voice goes from Happy, Happy Bunny to The Father of Death. "Varnika, look at me when I'm talking to you." How the back flipping, arabesque crap does she know my name?

Agastya gives her a double take. "What's up with your voice?"

"Shut up, Agastya. I'm talking to Varnika." Her eyes feel like they're boring holes into me and trying to find something that I'm pretty sure I don't have. "Now, Varnika. I'm going to need you to come to the bathroom with me so we can discuss an issue." What? No way!

"No! I'm not going to the bath--" She slams down a purple jewel onto the table and immediately I feel breathless, woozy and out of place. It's almost as if I'm watching myself from a third person's point of view.

"Bathroom. Now." Without waiting for a response, she drags me by the arm away from Agastya and into the women's restroom.

I've never felt so dirty in my life. The floor clearly should be white but has faded into some moss green color and the walls have orange rust running down them, toning out the cute turquoise color behind them. Poor people who work here. I'd just go to the bathroom across the street or something, anything is better than this dump of a room.

"What do you want?"

"Shut up and wait. He's coming now." Who's he? Coming from? I hear a loud booming voice from outside the bathroom and I go to the door to check but Creep pulls me back and throws me to the ground, and with a random rope that came from who knows where, ties me up and places the annoying Amethyst stone on it.

That rat tricked me.

Gunshots erupt from the other side of the door and Creep just stares at me. "Do you not remember me?" Blonde hair with blue streaks. . . dark eyes. . . no?

"It's me." A small, faint, screeching noise fills my ears making me squirm and wriggle on the grimy floor. It's the psycho, lonely, never-going-to-get-a-man girl from the park! Why are all these people after me and how do they know who I really am? They should just report me to the cops already! It'd be way easier that way and I could just face the publicity and/or consequences.

"Stop, freak!" I try to overpower the sound but all she does is make it louder and more irritating than it was before. The screams and thumps from the main area of Burger King are increasing by the second along with the gunshots and people flushing the toilet.

One lady trips from out of the stall and runs to the door not even bothering to wash her hands. That's just foul. I don't care if it's the end of the world--I would make sure to wash my hands and definitely after using this bathroom. She didn't even bother to help me, either. How rude.

"Call me, Indigo." She pushes down harder on the gem making me gasp for breath and lose energy faster than I do when I run to the mailbox. At once, the noise outside the door stops and the door slams open revealing Agastya with our food in the To-Go bag.

"Varnika, we gotta go." Hurrying over, he shoves the girl out of the way and lifts me up and carries me out to his car, bridal style. Did the fact that I'm basically tied up in rock climbing colorful rope with expensive jewels piercing it not run through his mind? It'd be the first thing I notice when I go to pick someone up.

After he placed me in the car, he jolted over to the driver's seat, cranked up the Cadillac, and zoomed off down the Lily to school.

"Agastya, are you okay?" Because I'm honestly worried. He only acted like this once before this year when we were buddies in August for an English project. He was behaving all funny and jittery and just being plain psychotic. If it was me, it's nothing to worry about because I'm weird like that. But him. . . it's a problem.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just I was scared you'd get hurt. That crook from a week or something ago came back and shot some people. I barely got away but I wasn't gonna leave without you." Butterflies start to barf in my stomach, almost making me want to mimic their actions. He risked his life for me? This draws the line of perfection. He's Agastya-fection. I turn to face him and try to read his face to see if it shows any sign of joking.

It doesn't.

"You really would've risked getting hurt for me?" He takes a millisecond glance at me before his cheeks start to turn colors. It's the end of mankind--Agastya blushed.

"Well, uh, yeah. I think so. Is that pathetic?"

"No! It's not pathetic at all. It's just. . . sweet." A smile finds its way on my face and I look out the window. After a few minutes of daydreaming about pineapples and raincoats, I realized it. "Agastya?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think when we get to school. . . you know. . . you'll untie me?" The car swerves in the lanes barely missing a head-on crash with a Malibu in the next lane and Agastya starts to laugh. This is the last time you'll be driving me around.

"Nah. I think you're better behaved."

That's awesome. Leave your girlfriend tied up in the passenger seat. I hope you get pulled over and questioned for this when the cops see me sitting here like this. . .

The demon himself is here. "Hello, Shristi. I see you've gotten bigger." Get thee back to your crap-hole, old man.

I completely ignore him and turn to my mom. "Mom, I'm going to a bonfire tonight with Agastya." She gives me a worried I'm-So-Disappointed-In-You look and crosses her arms.

"Talk to your father. He may want to know what you've been up to, Varnika." He doesn't care what I've been up to. He hasn't even paid child support in ages. If he did, maybe I would've gotten the Mad Science: Blow-Things-Up Kit I wanted when I was twelve.

"He basically just called me fat. Why would I have the tiniest desire to talk to him?" I don't understand why my mom is being so stubborn about this. He verbally and mentally abused us and our money. Who cares if he's "successful" now? He was a bitter, rude and manipulative father. I want absolutely nothing to do with him.

Hurry up, Agastya and pick me up! I can't stand this much longer without breaking down.

Ibaad takes a big huff of air, pinching the section above his nose. "Varnika. I told you I've changed. I'm not like I used to be. I was messed up then but now everything's okay."

"Is everything okay with your new job, new kid, and new wife? Or is it just a new drug dealer? Maybe you're hallucinating the whole thing. Maybe you never even got a new wife! Because I surely haven't heard from any of them! By the way, how's Cameron? You know the man who sold you t--"

"Varnika," My mom says in a sigh.

"What, mom?! It's true! Ibaad over here probably still sneaks the stuff he needs from the medical cabinet at his so-called job! And I bet--"

"Varnika! That is enough!" Dead silence hovers over the Pale Pink-themed living room. I've never seen my mom so serious before. Her brown hair is all frizzy and her face is dark red. She must be upset but oh-freakin'-well because I don't care. He can't possibly assume that after all of these years I won't confront his graying-haired self. Neurosurgeon or not, he can't erase the past.

A car horn honks from outside the house and without saying another word, I get up from the sofa, still recovering from my dad's random house visit, and storm outside. Yeah, I slammed the door. What're you gonna do?

Slowly, the sun is setting and is leaving a warm colored sky for me to bask in. Going outside wouldn't be such a pain for me if bugs didn't exist. We don't need them. It's just more things to take up space. I say we terminate them all from existence.

If only I were a bird, I could fly away to wherever I wanted, knowing I-- wait, if I train I'm pretty sure I could train and learn to fly. I just ruined my own fantasy.

"Varnika, are you getting in the car?" Oops, I almost forgot about Agastya and his beautiful face which, trust me, is a hard, hard thing to do.

"Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about something." I get into the car where he's playing some one-hit-wonder rock band song and breathe out a sigh of relief. One day down, three trillion more to go.

He backs out of my done-for driveway and heads towards the highway. "Long story?"

"Kind of."

"Well, it's a twenty minute drive to the junkyard so. . ." Fine, then. I guess I'll sum it up.

"Long story short: My dad's in town. And we just had a conversation." Agastya looks over to me and lifts his eyebrows for a quick second. The smallest gestures from him make me go crazy. He's right; I can't help myself around him.

"And I can guess that you're not very close?"

"Exactly." His hand leaves the steering wheel and he grabs mine in his, instead.

"It'll be okay. I'm here now." His voice raises to sound like an announcer in a Greek play. "And if Agastya says it'll be alright, 'tis it be!" He's so corny. I burst out laughing for the first time in ages and let's just say, my laugh isn't the nicest. It involves snorting, wheezing, rocking, and stomping. The joke wasn't even that funny but he's seen my average side and now, he's seen my monstrous, ferocious, horror movie side.

I bet I look pretty. . .

"Whoa, Varnika. That laugh. . . is. . . uh, something." Nice save, dirt bag.

"Shut up." Can it be possible to make a marriage counseling session between two teens? Because I think we deserve one so we can avoid husband and wife arguments at the age of seventeen and eighteen. I plug my phone into the car charger.

"Hey, Ros-ie. I heard you're going on a date with Ry-an. And I'm about to go on a date with Zach. So all I'm saying is, semicolon close parenthesis. Ha-ha. Text me la-ter."

That was Agastya's speaker I just plugged my phone into. Jannat, I'm going to kill you and that robot woman voice thing. I hurry and unplug my iPhone from what I thought was the car charger and look over at Agastya to see him smiling.

Fail.