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Kappy shakes her head. “There’s no way. I had a class with her when we were sophomores—we sat right next to each other—and she was the same size in June that she was the rest of the year.”

“It can happen,” argues Lauren. “I read about this model in Australia who was totally pregnant and gave birth full term but never had a clue.”

I nod. “When my mom was pregnant with Faith, you couldn’t even tell until, like, the last month.”

“It can’t happen to me,” sighs Kappy. “Unfortunately.”

“Are you seriously lamenting that you can’t get knocked up by accident in high school?” demands Lauren.

Kappy gives us a wicked grin. “Just the activity that leads to getting knocked up.”

I lean my head on her shoulder. “Just so you know, you’d be in very good company at my old school. None of us had to worry.”

“I guarantee half those bitches were getting some on the side,” says Kappy. “You really think everyone was following the rules the way you were?”

She just doesn’t get it. She doesn’t know what it’s like to live someplace where obedience is shoved down your throat from the moment you wake until the moment you close your eyes, and where everyone knows you and is watching. Talk to a single boy on the way to school and there’ll be a neighbor on the phone to your mother. Have an inappropriate conversation at the lunch table, and your parents will be waiting in the office that afternoon. Who would have dared?

Then again, Mary Joyce dared. And she couldn’t have been the only one.

I wonder if maybe I should have befriended more interesting girls. When Ann and I talk on the phone, I can barely keep my eyes open now.

We go into more stores full of clothes that I’d never be able to wear and couldn’t afford even if I was allowed to. Kappy convinces me to try on an amazing pair of jeans despite my protests, and my heart sinks and soars when I look at myself in the mirror.

I could be a totally normal girl. I could be one of the Kendalls, though I don’t want to be. I could be a girl that even Ford would like, would date.

And I’m never going to get to be her.

“Are you sure you can’t come out with us tonight?” Kappy asks. “There’s this huge party outside town.”

I laugh sadly. “Kappy, I’m about to be punished simply for going to the mall with you. There’s no chance I’m going anywhere tonight.”

She frowns at me. “You realize how fucked up this is, right?”

“I’m starting to,” I reply with a heavy exhale.

When I get inside, my father sits me down in the formal living room and sends my sisters away.

“I was very disturbed by your attitude when you left here earlier, Grace,” he says, his nostrils flaring.

I know exactly what he’s talking about, of course. I knew it even as I walked out the door. But I cock my head as if I’m confused.

“You were given an unprecedented amount of freedom and were insouciant in response.”

I want him to deal in specifics. I’m not going to apologize until I absolutely have to.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” I reply in my most innocent voice.

“You didn’t seem grateful at all that we were allowing you to go.”

There it is. He wanted me sobbing and overjoyed to go to the mall for two hours, the same mall that was absolutely packed with teenagers. I guarantee most of them didn’t think they had to sob with gratitude in order to go.

“I thanked you,” I reply. “Of course I was grateful.”

His lips pinch tight. “Thanking me is not the same as gratitude.”

There’s a tickle in my chest, a hint of perverse delight. He is unable to admit what he wanted and is growing frustrated by my refusal to roll over like a good dog and pant for his approval. We can sit here till morning while he gets down to it for all I care. It’s not as if I have anywhere else to be.

“I don’t understand what you wanted,” I reply.