"Are you sure you want to go to your grandma's?" Lexi asked as she helped me pack my suitcase a few days later. I was set to leave for Buffalo the next morning. As soon as Grandma Irene landed in New York, she'd call us, and then my mom and I would hit the road.

"Would you want to go to high school looking like this?" I turned to the side so she could get the full view of my belly. It wasn't humongous yet, but it was definitely noticeable. And it would only get bigger and bigger as the months went on.

She looked at my stomach for a moment before saying, "It's not that bad."

"It's not that bad yet." I grabbed a shirt and stuffed it into my suitcase. "But I've seen pictures of my mom when she was pregnant with me, and we’re not the kind of ladies who stay petite and small with the babies stuck in their rib cages." I shook my head as the image of what my mom had looked like when she was pregnant popped into my head. "We carry low and we carry big. Pretty soon it's all gonna be hanging out, and I don't want everyone seeing me like that."

"You could carry differently," she said, always the optimist.

I cocked an eyebrow. "And I could also carry the same."

"I guess I wouldn't know if Maddie carried the same as my mom did, since my dad burned all those pictures of her when she left us."

"Yeah. Maybe you should get knocked up like me to see if you and Maddie are the same."

She threw a pair of socks at my chest.

But the mention of her mom had me thinking about what Easton had said about trying to meet her. Which then had me thinking about Easton and our last conversation.

"Did Easton say anything to you about me?" I folded a pair of maternity pants.

She frowned. "No, why?"

I shrugged. "I saw him on Tuesday, that's all."

Her hazel eyes went wide behind her glasses. "Does he know you're pregnant?"

I looked down, not wanting her to see anything on my face that would lead her to believe that Easton was a bigger part of this story than I'd led on. "After my ultrasound appointment, he saw me walking home. He gave me a ride and accidentally saw the photo of the baby poking out of my purse."

"Well, he didn't say anything to me about it. But I guess he's pretty good at keeping secrets, since he still hasn't budged on telling me who was the girl he secretly dated over the summer."

I purposely avoided looking at her for a moment.

"Who do you think it is?" She leaned closer.

My phone started ringing, saving me from trying to figure out how to answer her question. My grandma's name was on the screen. I swiped to answer. "Hi, Grandma."

"Hey, sweetie." Her warm voice sounded through my earpiece. "I have some bad news."

Bad news? "What is it?" I asked. Was her flight delayed or something?

"We just docked in Florida, so this is the first I've been able to contact you. But my sister Christine had a stroke while we were on the cruise. She's okay now, but I don't feel good about leaving her alone."

"Oh no, Grandma. I hope she's okay," I said. I supposed one more day wouldn't be such a terrible delay.

"She's okay. But I’m going to have to stay at her house for at least a few weeks, just until she gets on her feet. As you know, Uncle Vearl died a couple years back, so I'm really all she has right now."

Disappointment fluttered through me. I had to wait another few weeks before I could go? I was already going stir crazy. I couldn't imagine looking at the same boring walls of my house for another three weeks.

"Couldn’t you bring her to your house? She might like a change of scenery, right?" I asked as a last-ditch effort.

"I'm afraid that won't work, sweetie. She's comfortable at her own house. I'm really going to just have to stay here right now. It doesn't make sense to make her travel all that way when her home is here."

But it made sense to me, because I needed somewhere to go. I had nowhere else. My mom's sisters would definitely not understand my situation. They cared a lot about how they presented themselves to the world—more than anyone else I knew. They were even worse than my mom.

My grandma spoke again. "I'm really sorry, Juliette. I promise to call you as soon as I feel like it's safe for me to leave her."

I sunk onto the bench at the end of my bed. "Okay. I understand. Take care of Aunt Christine. Tell her that I hope she gets better soon."

We ended our call. I dropped my phone onto my bed, with no idea what I was supposed to do now.

Lexi watched me carefully. "I'm guessing that wasn't good news?"

I sighed. "No. I'm stuck in Ridgewater for another few weeks. I can't hide out in my house forever. I'm going to start pulling out my hair."

She bit her lip and sat next to me on the bench, mulling over something. After a moment, she said, "Would it be so bad to go to school?"

"Yes!" I blurted. "They’ll eat me alive in there."

"Well, I'm here for you, and apparently, Easton knows, too." She put her arm around my shoulder. "So if nothing else, you can come hang out at our house after school if you need a change of scenery."

I leaned my head on her shoulder. "Thank you for understanding. You're the best."

She patted my stomach. "Anything for you two."

It only took two weeks of online school and endless hours of having to entertain myself to realize that there was no way I was going to keep this up. Grandma's house in the picture or not, I thrived on being around other people. That was what brought me to life. And after talking to my doctor, we both decided that it was probably best for me to go back to school. She worried I might become depressed, and that was hard on me and the baby.

So I pulled up my new stretchy pants, put on my cutest boots, tried not to think about how horrendous my roots were looking these days, and went to school.

The first day back was horrible. There was no way to put it besides saying it was one of the worst days of my life. Every fear I had had about showing up to school with my new growth came true.

The second day was just as bad. I would walk into my classes, sit in the back, and hope that no one would look my way. But apparently, no one had anything better to do with their lives besides talk about the girl who'd gotten herself knocked up in a foreign country.

Which was exactly why I was eating my lunch in the back corner of the girls' locker room.

Disgusting, I know.

Still, it was better than listening to everyone's whispers and assumptions on how I'd gotten myself pregnant.

My phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Easton: Where are you eating lunch?

Having nothing left to be ashamed about, I told him the truth.

Me: The girls' locker room.

Easton: Gross.

Me: Yep.

I took another bite of my sandwich and contemplated my life.

Easton: Want to get out of here?

Me: What do you have in mind?

Easton: I know how much you like bowling.

The bowling alley had been one of our favorite sneak-away spots last summer, since it was on the other end of town and no one from school ever went there.

It was tempting. But...

Me: Wouldn't that ruin your perfect attendance record?

Easton: Says the girl eating her lunch in the moldy locker room. Let's get out of here. I only have PE and Physics after lunch.

Was it completely stupid of me to consider this? We had said we'd try to be friends—not that we'd really done a great job of it so far.

I looked around the dingy locker room.

Me: Okay, I'll meet you at your car in five.

We got a lane at the bowling alley and put on the rental shoes I doubted the disinfectant spray really did much for.

"I don't know if you realize this, but I'm kind of a bowling pro now," Easton said, as he typed our names into the computer.

"Oh really? Because I don't know if that's humanly possible with how bad you were before I left." I smiled as I tied my shoelace—something that was getting harder and harder to do these days with my growing belly.

"You just watch and be impressed." He grabbed his ball and walked up to the lane. He stood there for way longer than I thought necessary, as if he was sizing up the exact position he’d throw the ball down. Moving an inch to the right, then an inch to the left.

"I think you’re too far on that side," I called to him, jokingly.

He moved a centimeter to the right again then turned back with a grin. "Better?"

"Maybe. I mean, I guess you're the pro now so maybe I should've just kept my mouth shut."

His grin broadened, and the sight of him smiling at me did funny things to my chest. He had a great smile.

"Watch and be amazed," he called back over his shoulder, shooting me a wink. Then he pulled his arm back and flung the ball down the lane.

He knocked down two pins.

"You're a pro, huh?"

He turned back to me and raised his hands. "So I might've exaggerated a bit. But those two pins...they didn't stand a chance."

I laughed, and his face brightened at my laughter.

I had missed this. Just goofing around with Easton.

His ball came back, and he went up to finish his turn. This time he knocked down three.

"See if you can beat that." He dusted his shoulders off in a proud gesture.

I raised my eyebrows. "Five pins is pretty impressive for one round."

He sat on the bench, spreading his arms across the back, and gave me a challenging grin. "I think that might be the high score of the afternoon."

I shook my head with a smile and grabbed my ball. It was one of the pink balls that the little kids used. I thought I could handle something heavier, but Easton wouldn't have it. Apparently, he wanted me to keep my baby safe.

I guess it was sweet in a way.

I threw the ball down the lane with much less finesse than Easton had. But finesse didn't matter as much as I’d thought, because my little pink ball knocked down seven pins on its first roll down the lane.

I spun around and faced him, my mouth open in surprise. "Who's the pro now?"

He clapped his hands and leaned forward, laughing. "Just show me up, why don't ya?"

Which is exactly what I did. By the end of the game, he had bowled eighty-five to my ninety-seven. Not my best game, but definitely not my worst. And the best thing to come from the bowling game was the perma-smile on my face. It was amazing how you don't realize how depressed you are until you're happy again. I had a feeling my doctor might prescribe more visits to the bowling alley if she found out about today. Easton had always been good at cheering me up when he wanted to.

"You wanna grab something to eat?" he asked as we put away our balls.

"I guess I could eat." It was only two-thirty, but I could always eat these days.

We went to the bowling alley’s restaurant and ordered food.

"I've been craving one of these all week, so this is perfect," I said before taking a bite of my pastrami burger. And just like I'd imagined, it was delicious.

He took a sip of his soda. "Are pregnancy cravings a real thing?"

"Totally." I covered my mouth with my hand as I finished chewing. Then I washed it down with some root beer. "You wouldn't believe how many lemons I've eaten this month."

"Lemons?" He looked at me like I had suddenly turned orange with purple stripes.

I nodded, dipping a fry in my nacho cheese sauce. "I used to think they were gross, but the lady I lived with in Paris always had lemons with salt for an afternoon snack."

Easton scrunched up his face. "Salt on lemons? How is that good?"

"Trust me. It's delicious. In fact..." I looked over to the guy at the service bar then back to Easton. "I'll be right back."

At the counter, I waited for the twenty-something guy to finish filling a soda cup for the one other person who was at the bowling alley this afternoon.

He looked up at me as he put the lid on top. "What can I get for ya?"

"Do you have lemon wedges?"

"For your drinks?" he asked.

"Not exactly."

He looked at me curiously but shrugged like he didn't really care before grabbing two lemon wedges and placing them in a small plastic container.

When I returned to the table, Easton eyed the lemons for a moment. "What are those for?"

"Instead of explaining the delightful combination that is salt and lemon, I figured you should just experience it for yourself," I said with a smile.

With a wary glance, he picked up one of the wedges. I showed him how to sprinkle the salt evenly in a decent layer all over the lemon’s surface, and then watched as he did it himself.

"On the count of three," I said, holding mine close to my mouth. "One, two, three." And then I bit into it, my mouth puckering with the sour but satisfying taste.

He hesitated for a moment, waiting to make sure I would follow through before taking a bite himself.

"Ahhh." He made a face and spat the lemon out. "That's just horrible." He grabbed his soda and gulped it down.

I laughed. "You're such a baby."

He shook his head. "How can you like that?"

I shrugged, still laughing at him. "It's delicious."

He licked his lips, like they still tasted sour. "I'll give you all my lemons from now on."

"Fine with me." I grinned.

He piled the wrappers and plates together on the tray and stood to throw it away. "Ready to go?"

"Sure." I dipped one more fry in the nacho cheese sauce, popped it in my mouth, and followed him outside.

He drove me back to the school to where my car was parked.

"Thanks for cheering me up." I unbuckled my seatbelt.

"It was fun. I've missed hanging out with you."

"Me too," I admitted. "Don't be surprised if I try to convince you to take me out again tomorrow."

I covered my mouth when I realized how that sounded. Like I'd thought this was a date.

"I mean..." My mind scrambled for a moment. "I didn't mean like a date. I know this wasn't a date. We're just friends. You're dating Mercedes."

"Actually, I'm not."

"You're not?"

He shook his head. "I thought you heard."

"Heard what?"

"That she's dating someone else."

"What? Who?" I furrowed my brow. I hadn't heard any of this stuff.

"A guy from your grade, Mark Lancaster."

"Mark Lancaster?" My jaw dropped. "But they hate each other."

He shrugged. "Well, they don't anymore. I guess Christmas break changed that."

"Weird."

"Not that weird." He shrugged. "I mean, we hated each other until about seven months ago, right?"

He had a point there. I rubbed my stomach absentmindedly before realizing I couldn't do things like that when talking about us. If I did, he would pick up on it and wonder why. And I couldn't have him figuring it out.

I cleared my throat and looked at him. "Sorry she cheated on you. That has to sting." I watched for any sign of pain in his eyes. Had she hurt him?

He shrugged like it really didn't bother him. "We weren't exclusive. Just went on a couple of dates. I'm really not that worried about it."

"Well, you're better than me. I'd probably egg Mark's house if I was you."

"Does that mean you approve of me egging your Paris dude's place?"

I froze. So the thought of me sleeping with another guy had really bothered him a lot.

I guess that made sense. When I found out he was dating Mercedes, I'd wanted to cut off her hair in her sleep or claw at her perfect porcelain skin with a fork.

Yeah, I'd blame those vicious thoughts on my out-of-whack pregnancy hormones. I wasn't normally a violent person, I promise.

"If I find out his address, I'll give it to you."

He gave me a sad smile. Did the idea of me being with someone else really make him that sad?

Guilt flooded me, but I pushed it away.

Him being sad about me hooking up with someone else was much better than him being devastated because he was the real father.

"How's the adoption process going, anyway?"

I shrugged. "I found a website with links to lots of prospective parents’ profiles, but I haven't really looked."

"I'm going to Ithaca Saturday night to try to see my mom, but I could help you look at some profiles that afternoon. I'm a good judge of character."

It would probably be good to let Easton have a say in who raised his baby.

"Sure, that would be great."

I would just continue to ignore the little voice in my head that told me he deserved to know the truth.