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“Has anyone mentioned that you’ve been in a really bad mood lately?”
“What are you talking about? I’m always like this.”
“It’s the breakup, isn’t it?”
“No, it’s not.”
“Then what is it?”
“Maggie’s in tears,” he says suddenly.
I sigh. “Is it about me?”
“Not everything’s about you, Bradley. Apparently she had some kind of fight with Peter. She sent me to find you. She’s in the girls’ room by the chemistry lab.”
“You don’t have to run errands for her.”
“I don’t care,” Walt says, as if the whole situation is pointless. “It’s easier than not doing it.”
Something is definitely wrong with Walt, I think, as I hurry away to meet Maggie. He’s always been slightly sarcastic and cynical, which is what I love about him. But he’s never been this world weary, as if everyday life has drained him of the strength to continue.
I open the door to the small lav in the old part of the school that hardly anyone uses because the mirror is mangy and all the fixtures are from about sixty years ago. The writing scratched into the stalls appears to be about sixty years old as well. My favorite is, For a good time, call Myrtle. I mean, when was the last time someone named their kid Myrtle?
“Who’s there?” Maggie calls out.
“It’s me.”
“Is anyone with you?”
“No.”
“Okay,” she says, and comes out of the stall, her face swollen and blotchy from crying.
“Jesus, Maggie,” I say as I hand her a paper towel.
She blows her nose and looks at me over the tissue. “I know you’re all caught up in Sebastian now, but I need your help.”
“Okay,” I say cautiously.
“Because I have to go to this doctor. And I can’t go alone.”
“Of course.” I smile, grateful that we seem to have made up. “When?”
“Now.”
“Now?”
“Unless you have something better to do.”
“I don’t. But why now, Maggie?” I ask with growing suspicion. “What kind of doctor?”
“You know,” she says, lowering her voice. “A doctor for…women’s stuff.”
“Like abortion?” I can’t help it. The word comes out in a loud gasp.
Maggie looks panicked. “Don’t even say it.”
“Are you—?”
