Jess and I pulled the fencing masks back down over our faces and a.s.sumed positions. I figured we would just wave our swords at each other half-heartedly, so I was surprised when the tip of her blade jabbed the dumpy vest around my middle. "Ow!" I cried.

"Nice job, Kline," Ms. Rhone said to Jess before moving on to observe another pair. I tried not to notice the way Sylvia was laughing and covering her mouth in the corner of the gym.

"So that's how you want to play?" I asked.

"I'm just following the rules," Jess said through the mesh of her mask.

Smarta.s.s, I thought, bounding forward to thrust the tip of my flimsy sword into the s.p.a.ce where her vest met her neck. Jess blocked it and counterattacked, this time poking me in the arm.

"Dammit," I cursed, wishing suddenly that the school could afford all the required fencing gear, instead of just bits and pieces we threw on over our shorts and T-shirts. It would at least keep Jess's jabs away from my skin.

I heard Sylvia cackle and tried to ignore it.

"You're not very graceful," Jess pointed out.

"That's not helping," I said, rubbing my arm.

Jess lifted her fencing mask off her face. Her eyes had lost their hard edge. She was almost laughing.

"You're trying to win by being powerful, but that's not what fencing is about."

I pulled the mask off my own face and stared at her. "What, do I look like I give a c.r.a.p?"

Jess shrugged and pulled her mask back down. "Just trying to help," she said. Before I was ready, she made some kind of little hop and poked my leg.

"Excellent footwork, Kline," Ms. Rhone called from across the room.

"If you poke me again, I swear to G.o.d I'll kick your a.s.s," I said, humiliated beyond belief. First, I was paired with a freak, and now she was beating me at fencing. Fabulous. I just hoped no one besides Sylvia was watching.

"You touch me, I'll tell what was in that note your friend handed to the teacher," Jess said.

"You have no idea what that note said," I replied.

"Try me." Jess's sword was raised in her right hand. Her left hand, with its curled deformity, was hidden behind her. She's in the attack position, I realized. She was no doubt bluffing-but better safe than sorry.

"I'm just playing," I said, trying to make my voice light. "Just s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g around."

Jess lowered her sword a few inches. "Yeah, well, me too," she conceded. "I won't tell. It must suck to be pregnant in this cow town."

I pulled my fencing mask over my face so Jess didn't see the blood leaving my cheeks and pooling in my stomach. How did she know that? "What are you talking about?" I asked.

"My hand might be deformed, but my eyes are just fine, thanks," Jess replied. She moved her sword again, and the tip landed squarely on my heart. But the jab wasn't so hard this time.

"The match goes to Kline!" Ms. Rhone called out. I stared at the indistinguishable contours of Jess's face behind her fencing mesh. Who the h.e.l.l was I dealing with?

Chapter Six.

MONDAY, MARCH 16 / 4:12 P.M.

Later that afternoon at Tickywinn's I recounted the whole conversation with Jess to Sylvia. She and I sat at a battered blue table in the corner of the cafe. A huge old window was pouring so much light onto us, I was starting to feel like I was tanning.

"How does she know you're pregnant?" I asked. "Who else did you tell?"

"No one," Sylvia said, propping her legs up on the empty chair next to her. "Except Ryan. On Sat.u.r.day night."

"You told him? Really?"

"Yeah. After his beer pong game, we met by my car and just drove around for a while."

I didn't need Sylvia to go into detail about what they did when they "drove around for a while."

"What did he say?"

Sylvia fingered the handle of her coffee mug. "Not much. He said some scouts were down recently from the wrestling team at the University of Minnesota, and afterward they sent a letter saying they're interested in him. He says he pretty much needs to focus on that since his grades aren't so hot and he might not make it into college without sports."

"Uh, that's great and all, except we don't graduate for another year."

"He says the scouts can make their decisions as early as the fall."

I clenched my jaw. So that was that.

"Does that change your mind about anything?" I asked. "I mean, about the kid?"

Sylvia shrugged. "I don't know."

"Did the doctor say how far along you are?"

"Almost three months."

My stomach twisted. That was way farther along than I'd expected. "Three months? And you didn't suspect before now?"

Sylvia shrugged. "I have a lot on my mind. I don't exactly put my periods on my calendar, you know."

I tried to remember back to s.e.x ed cla.s.s when they told us how a baby developed over the pregnancy. Would it have a heart by now? A spine?

It didn't matter. "Well, you have tons of options," I said. "If you don't want to get an abortion or keep it, you can always give it up for adoption. There are lots of couples who would probably pay big bucks for a white kid from the Midwest."

Sylvia glanced out of the window. A blue Camry backed out of a parking s.p.a.ce and pulled away. "I just can't get my head around not being involved in the life of someone who's half me. And half Ryan."

"You love him," I realized out loud.

"Yeah. I do."

"I know how you feel," I said after a second. "I saw Neil on Sat.u.r.day."

Sylvia's expression didn't change. "So?"

"So, you know what he's done to me all year. His whole m.o. is to want me to come over and screw around, then pretend like it never happened. Just like you and Ryan."

Sylvia swung her legs off the empty chair. "That's nothing like me and Ryan," she said. "Our situation is completely different. He never dumped me like Neil did to you. And I'm pregnant, okay? So don't sit here and say it's the same."

I sat back. I hadn't expected that. "Okay," I said. "Okay. Just chill."

Sylvia folded her arms across her chest and went back to staring out the window. I watched her, thinking that for all Neil's jerk behavior, at least I could say there was a time when he was really cool to me. In the eight months we were together, he did lots of super-sweet things. He held my hand in public; he bought me chalupas at Taco Bell and brought them over to my house when I wasn't feeling well; he picked me up in his Impala and we went driving for hours and hours; in the summer we'd find some abandoned dirt road and watch the sky until the clouds turned purple and bats started darting overhead. When we were together, we were together.

Sylvia couldn't say that about Ryan. Not even a little bit. He'd never once, since they'd hooked up last summer, acknowledged her existence publicly.

I circled back to the Jess issue. "So could Ryan have told anyone?" I asked. "Because I still can't figure out how J. rex knows about you."

Sylvia arched an eyebrow. "I doubt he said anything. But it doesn't matter. Jess could have just seen Ms. Rhone's expression and the note and put two and two together or-s.h.i.t. I don't know. But it doesn't matter because eventually the whole school is going to find out. I'm going to start showing one of these days."

"When that happens, will you tell people it's Ryan's?"

"Maybe he'll tell them," Sylvia said.

I blinked. "What do you mean?"

Sylvia looked up at the ceiling. "I know he loves me. And I'm smarter and prettier than half the people he hangs out with." Her eyes landed back on mine. "What if he just needs time to figure out that we're supposed to be a family?"

I wanted to feel Sylvia's forehead to see if she was running a fever. Or maybe it was the pregnancy hormones. Either way, what she was saying was nuts. "If he can't see you for who you are now, why do you think he'll see you differently in the future?"

"Because I know he cares about me. And I know he cares about this kid."

"What if he doesn't, though? What if he finishes high school and leaves you guys here while he runs off to college?"

Sylvia's eyes were blazing. "That's not going to happen."

I wanted to smack her. "Even though that's what he said he wanted to do, you think, what, that he's just bluffing or something?"

Sylvia blinked rapidly. "He-he didn't say it like that. He just-he doesn't know how he feels yet. I know he loves me. He does."

Her voice was tightening. I could hear the strain. "Okay, okay. If you say so." Sylvia was still blinking, and I needed to calm her down. I had no idea what my plans were after high school, but right then I knew I needed to make them sound like they involved Sylvia. "Look, no matter what happens, you're going to be fine. Your mom and I are here for you. Whatever happens, just know that, okay?"

Sylvia took a deep breath. I thought she was centering herself until she spoke again. "I took the wrestling letter. I swiped it from his room."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know. Out of sight, out of mind or something like that. I figured maybe if he wasn't always thinking of leaving, he'd start thinking about staying."

Oh my G.o.d. This was beginning to sound like a soap opera. "They'll just send him another one, you know. Or, if he doesn't have the letter, he'll still have his coaches. You get that this won't change anything, right?"

Sylvia shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."

Something about Sylvia stealing Ryan's letter felt desperate and pathetic-not to mention underhanded.

"So, somehow, you think in the next few months you can talk him into sticking around St. Davis? You think he can be dad of the year with you and this kid?"

She stood up. "What do you know about it? You're not the one who's pregnant."

"I'm also not the one making ridiculous plans to-"

Sylvia cut me off. "You want a ride home or not? Because if you keep talking, you're walking." She started toward the door.

I was too stunned to say anything else. My mouth firmly shut, I followed her out of Tickywinn's.

Chapter Seven.

FRIDAY, APRIL 10 / 9:52 A.M.

The last two weeks of March spent themselves in a torrent of rain and slush, every day as cold as bare iron. The start of April, by contrast, brought higher temps and budding trees. The ice thawed on the lakes, and the Ba.s.s Masters got ready for the opener on April 11.

"So you're doing the fishing thing again?" Sylvia asked as we walked out of fencing together.

"Yeah," I said, pretending to check my cell phone so I didn't have to look at her. "My mom said she thinks it'll be good for college applications." I regretted the words as soon as they were out. Not only was I lying to Sylvia, but my words smacked of Ryan's wrestling plans. I opened my mouth to blather out a cover-up when suddenly Sylvia reached out and pulled me into an alcove by a drinking fountain.

"I know," she said out of nowhere. "That party was the best. I got, like, six phone numbers."

"What the-," I started, but her eyes narrowed enough to shut me up. And then it dawned on me. Ryan was standing nearby.

"I'm going out tonight again," she said. "For a while, anyway."

"Yeah," I said, trying to play along. "You've got all those texts. You think you'll answer them?"

Sylvia laughed-a sharp sound that reminded me of branches breaking. "We'll see. There are a lot, aren't there?"

I turned my head slightly to see Ryan standing a few feet away talking to one of his wrestling buddies. They were standing in front of an open locker-I wasn't sure whose-that had pictures of bikini-clad girls taped all up and down the inside door.

This is stupid, I wanted to say. Ryan has no idea you're standing here. But then the locker door slammed, Ryan's wrestling friend walked away, and Ryan turned and looked right at us. Or right at Sylvia anyway. A small smile played at his lips. Even hating him couldn't stop me from appreciating him. His green eyes sparkled; his skin rippled over his perfectly toned frame. Sylvia had never said it before, but I could understand how when Ryan Rollings's eyes were on you, it felt like no one else in the world existed.

The spell of that moment was broken when another one of Ryan's friends walked up to him. "Hey, Rollings, gimme five dollars."

Ryan broke eye contact with Sylvia and picked up with his friend without missing a beat. "In your wet dreams," he replied, and the two of them headed down the hall together.

Sylvia and I stood by the drinking fountain for a second without saying anything. I tried out a few statements in my head-Why do you work so hard for so little from him? Or, He really is completely ripped-but none of them sounded right. Finally, Sylvia turned to me. Her eyes were bright. She looked a little manic.

"So you're not going, right?"