My Unmarried Pregnant Secretary

5.5

“You’re thinking about Timmy aren’t you? That kid was a mess. I don’t even know what you saw in him.” Fifty bucks and a week of free candy.

"I was forced."

Jannat perks up from her spot. "You were not forced, you were bribed!"

"Same thing!" Just go home. I have to check on my mom's ointment. She's supposed to be taking it now anyways. It's been eight hours.

Peton karate jumps from her lying down stance and swap-leg pulls up her pants. That's what belts are for. "'Kay guys, I think we better go. It was supposed to be a shortstop and I have to be home by five today. Plus I just got a text saying that Thalia chick showed up again and I wanna see the news before I have to leave for dinner."

Jannat grabs her phone and starts texting while preparing to leave. "Yeah, I wanna see it too. I gotta meet up with Lyre, though." Fine then you guys, ditch me. Leave a girl all alone to reminisce on her relationship donkey problems while you go out and live your simple lives. And quit the superhero talk before I blab my blubber mouth and get in trouble.

I hear the front door close and a chorus of Bye, Veronika's and I'm left alone in the brown and gold walled room with a lamp and trash on the floor. Come over uninvited, ruin my only uplifting thing of the day, talk about me and not know it, leave me to clean up the trash. Something is wrong with our friendship.

"Varnika, honey?" My mom gets on her knees in front of me and lightly touches my shoulders. Somebody died didn't they? She looks too sad. "Listen, I know this isn't something you wanna hear but your father just called--" He called? He's alive, lost interest.

"I don't wanna hear it." Dad can fall down an endless pit made of bird crap and molded meatballs. I don't care.

"Sugar, listen I know you don't like him all that well but he's coming into town on a business trip for a week and says he'll try to stop by."

"Tell him to turn around."

"It's not that easy, hun. Just. . . try to talk to him okay? It's been a while. He's coming sometime next week." Great! I have one more full day to plan my runaway. I wonder if Leeanda can get her cousin to let me on the next flight to Paris, Texas. There, I'll cross the border to Mexico and never be seen again. Since the bank's closed on Sundays I have about forty minutes to grab the money out of my account. Leeanda if you don't answer the phone when I call it's going to be a problem because I'll have to work in a street stand, selling my mom's products and getting knockoffs.

"Are you listening?" No, I'm planning how to fake my death. It's easier to not be found if there's blood in a mountain range but nobody. . .

"I'm going to my room. I'm not listening to this." After five years you decide to visit? Doesn't work like that, father.

It just doesn't.

Please, I don't have the nerve to run away. I'd crap myself before I get to that point. But that was a pretty good idea if you ask me.

'me & Lyre r gonna be together forever!!!!! <3 he better ask me out before i snap'

Ignored. Not being rude or anything, but I need to sort out my own problems before I can help with other people's. And I have a whole encyclopedia worth of problems: girl problems, guy problems, girl and guy problems, health problems, mental problems, mental health problems. Even my problems have problems. It's sad.

My laptop looks lonely on my dresser all by itself. Let me comfort it. I grab my lavender computer and place it in my lap as I lay on my bed. Wherever this comforter came from needs to get an award. I've never felt anything so soft in my life besides Agastya. Cuddling would be nice for once.

The light illuminates my face as I browse f*******: looking at drama just seeping through the screen.

Jessica Tidley

what she did was dead wrong. I don't really see the big deal in it. ain't nobody scared of u Decana.. She cooked with me and you are just being childish.

#grow up dis aint kindergarten

Harry Moss

well dang Decana. just put her out there like that. she didn't even do anything to you. I do the same things and to me you just were being a creep on her.

Gary Rickett

that wasn't really appropriate to do Decana. I think you should take the pictures down before you get into trouble. the pictures aren't all that anyways. it really won't change anything. She's a nice person and you're a jerk.

Great. Decana is on her scavenger hunt for dirt, and attempts to ruin yet another person's life. I don't even understand why I added her as a friend. Curiosity is a powerful thing. Guess I'll have to give in to it and go to Decana's page and see what the crap she's whining about.

Who puts a profile picture of them in the bathroom? I don't want to know all of that. I'm pretty sure we all do just about the same thing as you in the bathroom, Decana. Go find a hobby or something that doesn't involve standing on street corners. Trying to pretend you're naturally Val, skunk, please. We all know where the money is coming from.

Decana Harper

heyy!! ;D check out the new album I got!! Varnika is NOT who ya think ;)) #dirrty

Butt picking', nose burning', corner standing', scrunch bag is not trying to blackmail me. She can't. I don't even talk to her so she has nothing on me. Probably some lame photos that she pasted my head onto and was like, "I eat pizza for breakfast" or something else stupid. Just because she's a stupid person in general.

The photo album is titled, "Varnas are red. . . and raunchy". Is that the best she could think of? This has got to be some type of joke. Come on, cameras. . . you can pop out now, I know this is a joke. Not even the lamest person on Earth would name an album that. Heck, they wouldn't even name their dead cat that.

And what's up with the extra letters? She's only making the word more complicated than it already is. For goodness sake we live in America where there are such things as silent E's and the same sound for two different letters--quit making it complex, i***t.

My mouse hovers over the first picture and clicks on it. When it fully loads, it's a picture of me from behind in front of a large tan-bricked house with a strained look on my face. . .

As I pick my wedgie.

This brat got a picture of me from last week picking my wedgie after the motorcycle ride! I could've sworn nobody was outside when that even happened. I looked around! It was completely empty besides some old man, probably with 2/2 vision, walking his chihuahua. He was the only person outside and I know for a fact he doesn't know Decana or had a camera. Better yet, know how to work one.

The next picture in there is me laying on the floor, tongue hanging all out, eyes uneven, it basically looks like I'm trying to lick the floor and there's a crowd of people surrounding me and my flying, dark hair. Where the heck is this picture at? It's all darkly lit in there and multicolored specks are reflecting from the floor. Well I know I wasn't at a bachelorette party or anything--oh, no.

She was at Purple Moon, too? If she's trying to let people know she's sane, it's not really working. It actually looks more like she's my personal stalker. She saw me dance and made it look like the most revolting thing ever. The caption reads:

'omg, Varnika.... don't wear yourself out girl. you can licck the floor all u wannaa xD'

Boy, Decana has it coming. The rest of the pictures aren't extremely embarrassing, but it's enough to tick me off. Don't anyone dare to even try and make a joke out of me or my friends because if you do, expect there to be an arranged funeral. I'll even let you pick out your casket.

The end of my bed creaks and I ignore it. Maybe my foot twitches or something. Suddenly, heavy breathing fills my hair and my head snaps up to see. . . myself? Wait no, not just myself but two of me. One blocking the door, jaw clenched and arms crossed and the other leaning down in front of me with deep blue eyes. For one: My eyes aren't blue, they're hazel, and two: My nostrils can't flare to a size that's able to fit a freaking cell phone up into it.

The Varnika in front of me slowly closes my laptop as I stare at her with wide eyes, frozen in place. How do "I" know where the real "I" live? Nope, that's not weird at all.

She calmly takes a hold of the front of my shirt, thrusts me to the floor, and immediately the other me that was by the door comes over and grabs my hands preventing me from using them.

"Don't worry, Varnika. We'll be kind enough to let you live." Her fist takes a hard jab to my stomach making me wretch in pain and a squirt of blood release from my mouth. "For now." The airways to my throat feel like they're being pinched shut and I can't do a thing about it. "Hold her." Isn't she already freakin' doing that?!

Varnika in front takes some steps backwards and grabs my sofa chair leg, breaking it off. Well, good. Now I need a new couch. She plays with it a bit, bouncing it up and down in her hand before she chucks it at my head, hitting my cheek dead on and more blood hurls from my mouth. Clorox stain remover better work for this.

What's their purpose? Are they here to torment me for fun? Sent by somebody? Mad because the bottle she stole from me of lotion was half empty? In between breaths I manage to calm my heart rate a little. "What're you here for?" My arms above my head are stretched to the extent where I feel like they'll fall off if she applies any more pressure.

"Oh look; it speaks. I have a feeling you know exactly why we're here. We all warned you to stay away. You didn't have to have these special little powers. They were supposed to be mine. But you got in the way." A stinging sensation came across my cheek and I felt some warm blood flowing down it too. She slapped me back. Why am I not fighting back? I should've thought of this a while ago.

Get angry, Varnika. Get angry and go buck wild on them. Go freakazoid.

That's my not so organized plan, then. My view becomes clearer and I gain a sudden burst of energy and charge across the room body-slamming her into the ground. "I can live how I want." Not the least bit of worry shows in her face and then she does something really creepy. She smirks at me.

"Honey, that's the problem."

So, there's a moment when you know you're screwed and that's right now because her eyes turn dark red, her smile quickly fades and her voice lowers five hundred octaves. "You can't."

"Varnika! What're you doing up there?! I need my ointment rubbed!"

Running out of luck, I see her trying to make some move that I'm sure will end my life before I get my senior citizen discounts, and make my ceiling fan drop towards her body as I roll off of her. That wasn't a good idea. What if I get hot tonight? I'll have to open my window and allow the bugs to party while I sleep.

The Varnika that's on the ground notices the fan heading towards her and yells out a deep "No" before being hit by it and her body burst into blue dust and powder. That's weird. I was hoping for blood and maybe some heaving but not. . . that. The Varnika that was holding me back saw what had happened and no less than a nano second later jumped out of my window. Who cares where she goes, just as long as she's away from me.

Now my room's messed up. Congratulations guys, I have more chores to do.

"Varnika Amelia Cary! Get down here and rub my ointment before it spreads again!"

What exactly is "it"? I don't even know.

.:*~*:._.:*~*:.♥.:*~*:._.:*~*:.

"So'd you beat yourself up again last night or something?" Leave it to Jannat to make a joke out of something. . . joke-less.

I sLesanie my cheek with my hand. Gosh, being judged is never any fun. That dumb brat left a scratch on my cheek. Unfortunately, my scar didn't leave my face when it was prayed for at church either. It's just less visible, but still very visible. "Sure did. Thought I needed to teach myself a lesson. Anyways what's up? You got 'The Look' on your face." Haven't seen that one in a while.

"What's up? Your cheek." She belts out a hardy laugh and slaps her knee causing a few passerby's to stare at her like she's psycho--because she is. "What're you looking at? I don't remember mentioning your name in my sentence did I? No." Man, she can be mean. The little sophomores scurried off towards the school gym and Jannat turned back to me rolling her eyes.

"So annoying. But no, really. What's up is that Thalia chick is becoming, like, an idol to everyone. They've been making posters for her to come out about who she is all around Virginia Beach schools. The news promoted it last night and now all the little rodents in school are running around making flyers and crap. It's dumb. I mean, she's not gonna come out just because there are posters." She gives me this You're-Kidding-Me-Right? look.

Darn, didn't think this through. She's got a point. I'm most definitely not coming out now. Guess I'll play along.

"Yeah, I know right? It is dumb." I try to roll my eyes and look casual by huffing out my words. Not even working. Trying Harder Mode: On. "Who makes flier's anyways? She could be home-schooled for all we know."

Yes! Bingo! I'm a freaking genius! Go, me!

"Exactly! But I doubt she's home-schooled because somebody told the news that she has a boyfriend. And it's sort of hard to be in a relationship or get one if you're home-schooled. But you never know. They're taking this too far to me." Never in my life have I loved Jannat so much.

Most of the time, she makes me want to drive a Popsicle stick through her cornea.

"Well, I don't feel like talking about her, she's probably annoyed with all the attention." A simple grunt comes from Jannat. So enthusiastic. "What else is going on? Did Louis get in trouble with the cops for naturally polluting yet?" Oh, the stink.

She lets out a short laugh crossing her arms. "No. But he will soon if he doesn't have a confrontation with soap and water." Her greenish eyes look behind me and she gets the biggest smile on her face, barrelling toward someone. No need to turn around. It's Lyre. She basically blew up my phone all Sunday and was rambling on and on about how close they've gotten.

Good for her that she's not living some double or maybe triple life that would interfere with her daily living. Then there's me going along a pathway to doom. Then I'll trip over air and keep going again.

I haul my backpack up on my shoulder and start walking towards Mr. E's room. School doesn't start for another ten minutes but whatever, I'll walk alone since Agastya doesn't know how to reply to text messages. Maybe his parents found out he was dating an awkward girl so they banned him from associating with my kind.

I'm just going to go with that so my feelings aren't hurt.

My feet hit the fungus floor in English class and I stopped in my tracks. Crap-alonie they did not just do this. There's no flipping way that they actually took the time last night and this morning to do this. Are they really that desperate for Thalia? Since when was this cool? Never. It's not cool and if I was Thalia (which I am), I would take this as stalkerish and obsessive.

Only the Limbers and students with no lives dec-out an English room trying to convince a superhero to show her identity. All over the white-bricked walls are posters. Posters, posters, school assignments of people who failed, and more posters.

Thalia, show yourself! I have cookies!

What if I'm allergic?

Thalia!!! Tell us who you really are! Children love you!

What if I hate the sound of children's laughter?

If you don't come out and tell us who you are, where you live, and if I'll be your new boyfriend... I'll cut you.

If anything, that'll scare me away and it's a death threat. Not exactly the best way to get a girl.

"Hey, Varnika? Yeah, move. You're blocking the whole doorway." Who dares to speak to me in such a lingo?! I whip around to face class jerk, Valie. Never mind, Val, go on. I don't even have time for you and your fat mouth today.

Moving aside, he purposely bumps into me and makes way to his seat. If only he knew who I was he would not have just done that knowing I can toss him out the window. And just hope some vulture thinks he's dead and pecks away at his empty head.

That'd be nice.

Still gazing at the psych-posters, I make way to my desk and sit my butt down before I end up knocking somebody out. Remain calm and think of the happy things in life. Like the fact that someday you know Value will be in prison for taxidermying a Bald Eagle.

The final bell rings its gut wrenching tune and Mr. E closes the door. He even walks weirdly. He kicks out one foot carelessly making the illusion that he's a walking piece of jello.

"Okay, class-i-deers! As you can see, or not see, but most likely see; today the whole county is recognizing our new hero! We know she attends one of the schools here and we aren't sure which one so we're offering things to encourage her to show out!" He bites his lower lip and pumps his fist in the air enthusiastically, causing his "greaser" hair to flop out of control. Wouldn't be shocked if it was a wig.

"So if anybody here has any clue as to who she is or some help, let us know straight away! Don't even waste your finkley time with it!" Is that even a word? Just shut up, Anthony. That's right. I used your first name.

Georgia's hand raises up in front of me and Mr. E calls on her. "Yes, I was wondering why it's such a big deal. Can't she have her privacy? I mean, she's already saving the city. Do we really need to know anything else?" Oh, Georgia. I'm so glad you don't know it was me who called you. Because if people eventually found out, you'd murder me personally.