 
Love Me

The Logoria Series Book 4

Published by Phylicia Joannis at Smashwords

Copyright 2008

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Chapter One Devon

Chapter Two Grandma

Chapter Three Temptation

Chapter Four Diner Dash

Chapter Five Kicked Out

Chapter Six Maxie

Chapter Seven Lovesick

Chapter Eight Confessions

Chapter Nine Mistakes

Chapter Ten Bad Decisions

Chapter Eleven Lovers & Friends

Chapter Twelve The Spirit of Error

Chapter Thirteen Now or Never

Chapter Fourteen Redemption

Epilogue

Chapter One

Devon

"Have you spoken to Tammie?" Martin asks Jennifer as they sit together at lunch.

"No, she won't take my calls," Jen replies glumly. "I hope she's doing okay."

"What's wrong with Tammie?" Max asks as he sits down with his tray. Martin nods a greeting and Jennifer waves briefly. She and Max have formed a truce agreeing to remain civil to one another, if not friends. Jen shakes her head at Martin who, understanding her meaning, responds to Max's question.

"Tammie hasn't been coming to church, and Jen's worried about her."

"Not going to church is something to worry about?" Max raises an eyebrow.

"Well," Martin looks at Jen, who again shakes her head.

"Tammie's been going through some personal struggles," Jen finishes for Martin. "It's not my place to say, but I said some harsh things to her about it, and now she won't speak to me. It's my own fault."

Jen bites her lip and swallows the lump in her throat. Harsh is a nice way of putting it. Truthfully, Jennifer had been self-righteous and merciless with her tongue. Since then she's repented, but the damage is already done.

"Hey, just keep at it," Martin tries to sound upbeat as he encourages Jennifer.

Jen gives him a half-hearted smile before returning to the tray in front of her. Max watches as Martin gets up from his seat and makes his way to Jen's side of the table, bringing his tray with him. After setting down his tray, Martin begins scooping Jennifer's food from her plate to his. Jen gives Martin a shocked look.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

"Eating. Why?" Martin sticks a spoonful of food in his mouth and quickly grabs a roll from Jen's tray.

"You do realize you're eating my food?" Jen grabs Martin's fork and begins scooping food back into her tray. Martin feigns a hurt look.

"Jen, those are my mashed potatoes!"

"No, they're mine!" she scowls. Despite herself, Jen giggles. Martin grins at her and slides his tray back to its original spot.

"Mission accomplished," he states matter-of-factly as he returns to his original seat. Max gives them both a wide-eyed stare, but says nothing.

"Thanks, Martin," Jen smiles at him.

Martin smiles back, and Max rolls his eyes.

•••

Tammie wipes the steamy condensation from the mirror and studies her reflection. The skin around her lips is drawn. Her eyes, a rich dark brown, look dull and feel heavy.

Her cheekbones are more pronounced than before, thanks to her new exercise routine and a restrictive diet. She's lost at least ten pounds since meeting Devon, more than she ever dreamed she could lose in such a short time, but she wants to be attractive to him. Her body from the waist down is still several pounds heavier than she'd like, but he doesn't seem to mind. He actually likes the way her body is shaped. He says she has a beautiful figure and shouldn't hide it.

Tammie looks down at the rest of her body, now wrapped in a towel. Her toenails are manicured to perfection, sporting a deep, dark blue polish. Her skin is as brown as her eyes. She keeps her legs shaved smooth, a habit her mother taught her as soon as she began growing hair.

Her legs are thick and shapely; her hips and thighs are wide. Her mother calls it the McLeod Heritage. She says it is the only inheritance Tammie can expect from her family, so she'd better put it to good use.

Tammie chokes back a sob. Has she taken her mother's advice? Devon makes her feel like a real, worthwhile person. He brings out emotions in her that she never knew were there. Is this what her mother meant? Is she using her body to win Devon's heart?

Tammie shakes her head. That can't be it. Devon loves her. He told her he loved her. Even now, with so many things unclear, she knows he does. There's no way he would touch her the way he did if he didn't love her. It wasn't the way they'd been taught in church, but they couldn't help it. Besides, it wasn't as if they'd planned to take things that far.

Tammie sets her head on the mirror and shuts her eyes tight. Who is she kidding? Devon is attractive, funny, popular, and very smooth. He can have any girl he wants. Sure, he likes her now, but once she tells him, then what?

Tammie watches a tear fall from her left eye into the sink. She is going to end up just like her mother; something she's feared her whole life. She's no longer an independent young woman with her whole life ahead of her. She's a statistic; another pregnant, black teen brought up by a single mother of four.

Tammie sniffs and wipes at her eyes, but she can't stop the tears from flowing. They come in great waves, threatening to overwhelm her. Knowing she is the only one in the house, Tammie shrieks at the top of her lungs, banging her hands on the sink as she cries.

How could she let this happen? She is supposed to be a Christian. She knows better. She made a promise never to end up like her mother.

Tammie looks at her reflection again in the mirror. The sight makes her sick to her stomach. Her eyes are bleary, unloading and refilling with heavy tears. She hates the girl looking back at her. She let herself down.

Her dull brown eyes keep turning down in shame. She can't look herself in the eye, let alone anyone else. She lets out a pain-filled sob as she flings her fist at the mirror. Small blades of glass hit the sink with a chink, and Tammie lets out a yelp. She pulls her hand back quickly but it's too late. The mirror is broken and a tiny shard of glass is stuck in her hand. Tammie looks at her broken reflection in the mirror once more.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she sobs. She reaches down underneath the sink and pulls out a bottle of peroxide. She fumbles to remove the cap and then pours the peroxide over her hand. It stings briefly, then fizzes and disappears.

Tammie frowns as she replaces the cap and then the bottle and slides into a corner by the bathtub. She whimpers in desperation as she holds herself tight. "I'm so sorry," she cries. "I'm so sorry."

•••

Tammie was eight years old when she found out just how low men could make her feel. Her mother had gone to the store to pick up extra items she forgot for dinner, leaving her boyfriend at the house. She left Tammie with instructions to begin cutting vegetables and mind Bill. Whatever Bill said, Tammie had better do, or else she would have to answer to her. Tammie didn't especially like Bill, but she didn't like any man her mother brought home. Tammie nodded in quiet obedience and her mother left without another word.

It wasn't long before Tammie felt an odd prickling of her spine and sensed she was being watched. Her body tensed with the presence of another person in the kitchen.

"You're not a very pretty little thing, are you?" Bill sloshed. Tammie had seen Bill and her mother drinking before she left, and she knew he was drunk. Her grandmother told her once that people say things they don't mean sometimes when they're drunk. She tried to apply that knowledge to Bill and told herself he didn't mean anything by it.

When she didn't respond, Bill repeated himself, this time much louder. "I said, you're an ugly little girl. Did you hear me?"

That stung, despite Tammie's best efforts to make excuses for him. "I don't know what you mean," she replied nervously.

Bill smiled, glad that he got a reaction out of her. "So she talks." He came closer, which made Tammie very uncomfortable, but she said nothing. "How about making me a sandwich, little girl?"

Tammie turned around and raised her eyebrows at him. "Can't you see I'm making dinner?" Bill frowned and Tammie realized her mistake. She turned back to her task quickly and put her head down. She shouldn't sass adults. Her mother would be upset when she found out.

"You've got a big mouth for a little girl," Bill growled. "What else can you do 'sides talk?" Bill moved closer, and Tammie began to shake.

"I don't know what you mean," she stammered. "But I didn't mean to be sassy."

"Turn around, girl," Bill commanded her, and she obeyed. She slowly turned toward him and he placed his hand on her face.

"You look better close up than you do far away," he chuckled. His breath smelled like brandy and cigarettes, and his hand felt clammy on Tammie's cheek. "Would you like to sit with me a minute?" he asked sweetly.

Tammie was confused. He hadn't seemed happy a moment ago, and now he was asking her to sit with him? "I have to finish cutting these vegetables," she stammered.

"Sit with me a minute and I'll help you cut them. Two people will be twice as fast," Bill smiled. His grin made Tammie sick to her stomach. "C'mon and sit with Uncle Bill." He winked at her as he spoke.

"Okay," she replied cautiously.

Bill smiled again and pulled her toward him. They went to the couch and sat.

"Wanna watch TV?" Tammie offered. Bill only smiled, so Tammie shrugged and turned on the television. She sat next to Bill on the couch, flipping channels. She finally found a show that caught her attention and left it there. She saw Bill watching her out of the corner of her eye, and she felt her stomach become queasy again.

Tammie looked down at her hands nervously before returning her eyes to the TV screen. She stared intensely at the television, not wanting to see Bill watching her. After a few minutes she nearly forgot he was in the room.

She was reminded of his presence when she felt his hand begin to rub her leg.

"What are you doing?" she tried to ask him casually, but it came out in a low whisper.

"Just giving you a massage," Bill replied. "Don't you like it?" Tammie wished he would stop touching her, but she didn't want to hurt his feelings. He was just trying to be nice, wasn't he?

To her relief, he stopped. "You don't like that much, do you?" he asked her. She shook her head, glad that he noticed. He removed his hand from her leg and grabbed her hand, placing it in his lap. "How about giving me one?" he asked casually.

Alarms went off in Tammie's mind as he moved her hand back and forth on his lap. He stopped briefly to put her hand inside his pants and continued as before. The queasiness in Tammie's stomach was building, and tears began forming in her eyes. He was making her very uncomfortable, and she didn't know why.

Bill let out a loud moan, startling Tammie. Her stomach could no longer handle the anxiety building within her. She placed a hand over her mouth, but that didn't stop her from vomiting on Bill, who quickly jumped to his feet. He slapped her hard across the face and cussed at her.

"You stupid, stupid girl!" he exclaimed. "No man will ever want a woman who doesn't know how to touch him!"

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. Bill rushed to the kitchen to find a paper towel, and Tammie ran to her room.

She cried herself to sleep in a corner of the room. She heard her mother come into the room at some point, but she didn't say anything.

Her mother picked her up from the floor and gave her a hug. She rocked her for a long time before kissing her forehead and putting her in her bed. Bill never came back after that, and her mother never spoke of it.
Chapter Two

Grandma

Max watches his father's shadow disappear behind a tan door and lets out a sigh.

_Things are going to get better_ , he tells himself. Mr. Shaw checking himself into a rehabilitation center is a good thing. It means he is finally ready to address his problem and not ignore it. Still, Max is overwhelmed. As he and Mr. Kent walk to the parking lot, loneliness begins to sink in. Max is on his own now.

"You okay?" Mr. Kent asks. Max only nods. There are too many thoughts going through his head for him to try to express them all now. He walks quietly to Mr. Kent's car, listening as he explains that everything will be all right, the move is only temporary, and he'll still be able to visit his father.

Max is grateful for Mr. Kent taking him in while his father is in rehab. If it weren't for Mr. Kent's tenacity, Max would probably be worse than his father. Max feels his chest tighten as he fights back tears. Though he knows it won't change anything, Max wishes his mom were still alive.

Mr. Kent pulls up to his apartment building and Max lets out another sigh. After his father explained the situation to Mr. Kent, Max's probation officer, Mr. Kent offered to let Max stay with him. Mr. Shaw had been elated. He wanted Max to be with someone who would look after him and make sure he did what he was supposed to do.

Max has a very healthy respect—and fear—of Mr. Kent; his intimidating physique almost ensures this.

"It's only six weeks," Mr. Kent offers. "That time is going to fly by, Max."

Max nods silently as he enters the apartment. The smell of wood and furniture polish reminds him of the days when his mother would air out the house for spring-cleaning. It's only February; apparently, Officer Kent wants to get a head start.

"Hand me that bag and I'll show you to your room." Max hands him his duffel bag and follows him to his temporary room. One thing is obvious when he enters the room. It is nothing like home. The walls are completely bare, and it looks more like a barracks room than a bedroom. The bed is a standard size with beige and white sheets and a beige comforter. There is a small closet, a dresser, and a desk with a computer.

The room feels very small, though it is nearly empty. He wonders if this is how Martin felt when he'd been forced to stay with Mr. James for a week.

"I wasn't sure what you wanted to bring, so I didn't put too much in the room," Mr. Kent says apologetically. "There's no television in here, so if you want to play X-Box or PlayStation or watch cable, you'll have to go to the living room. The bathroom's down the hall, the kitchen is across from the living room. If you need anything just let me know, okay?"

Max nods again and sits on the bed. "Is there anywhere to go on this side of town?" Mr. Kent lives on the West Side of Logoria, just beyond the old train tracks that divide the city. He is only a few miles from the church.

"There's a park up the street, a burger place a few blocks to the West, and Wellis High is right behind us. I know some of the teens who go to the church live in the area, so maybe you'll catch up with them on the days you're not at the hospital. You've only got a couple more weeks there, too. Make the most of them."

Mr. Kent leaves the room and Max flops onto the bed. He closes his eyes, trying his best to forget all his troubles.

•••

"Tammie! Give me a hand, will you?" Tammie's mother calls her. Tammie rushes down the stairs and quickly grabs the bags of groceries in her mother's hands. She winces as she grabs the first one, her cut from the broken glass still tender. Her mother is too busy shuffling between the car and the house to notice. Tammie places the bags in the kitchen and goes out to help her mother. After they finish bringing everything in, Tammie begins to put everything away.

"Junk, junk, junk!" Tammie tsks as she pulls out bag after bag full of potato chips, pop tarts, and frozen dinners.

"Well, since you have a boyfriend now, Miss Priss, we've had to fend for ourselves here at the house." Her mother purses her lips, but Tammie detects an air of pride in her tone. Her mother likes Devon. Everyone likes Devon.

Well, not everyone.

Tammie thinks of Jennifer, her best friend. She hasn't spoken to her in weeks; not since she told her she was pregnant. Jennifer had taken it hard, as if Tammie did it to spite her. Perhaps Jennifer is only jealous of Tammie and Devon's relationship; Tammie isn't sure, but she refuses to take Jennifer's calls, anyway.

"Mom, I don't mind cooking. Just tell me when and I'll make sure I have dinner ready."

"No, it's okay Tammie," her mother reassures her. "Besides, I'd better get some practice in before your grandmother gets here.

"Grandma's coming to visit?" Tammie asks nervously.

"Yup," her mother replies after rolling her eyes. "I could have waited another year to see her, but she insisted. I swear, whenever she comes to visit, she always has something to say. 'Sadie, you can't cook,' 'Sadie, your house is a mess,' 'Sadie your children run wild.'" Her mother looks at her helplessly. "Promise you'll bail me out if she starts preaching?"

Tammie smiles half-heartedly. Her grandmother is a Black Female Preacher, and whenever she comes to visit, she has a word from God for her mother. Well, several words, most of which aren't so good. But she is always nice to Tammie. She gives her compliments on everything from her cooking to the way she takes care of her brothers and sister. It might be nice to have her around for a while. She might be the only one Tammie will feel safe enough to talk to.

"When's she coming?" Tammie asks.

Before her mother can answer, the doorbell rings. "That may be her now," her mother replies. "You answer it," she waves Tammie away as she continues to stock the cabinets.

Tammie goes to the door and opens it wide. "Hey Grandma-" she stops cold when she sees who is on the other side of the door. "Um, Devon," she speaks his name so softly she knows he can't possibly have heard it.

Devon is in a crisp white t-shirt and stylish jeans. His highly defined jaw meets with a statuesque neck and torso. His cool, dark eyes match his dark chocolate skin perfectly. His lips cover two perfect rows of white teeth that even now make Tammie feel dizzy. He keeps his hair clean cut and short. He has a small moustache – also neatly kept. He is so... perfect. Devon smiles as he watches her watching him.

"Do I pass the inspection?" he asks before lightly pecking her on the cheek.

"Oh yes," she exhales more than speaks. Devon pulls a bouquet of roses from behind his back and hands them to her.

"Happy Valentine's day," he grins. Tammie's eyes light up with delight. How did she not see the flowers?

"Hey Miss McLeod," Devon greets her mother, whose face lights up the moment she sees him.

"Devon," she coos. "It's so nice to see you again." Her words ooze out of her mouth like honey. "I'm so glad it's you, and not the wicked witch!"

Devon raises his eyebrows in response, a quirk that Tammie absolutely adores. Tammie makes her way to Devon's side and gives her mother a knowing glance.

"Well! Don't mind me, you two," she waves her hand in the air. "I can see you need some privacy, so I'll just get out of your hair."

Tammie watches her mother leave and almost regrets it. She doesn't know how to break the news to Devon.

"The wicked witch?" Devon asks curiously.

"I'll explain it to you later," Tammie shakes her head as she places the flowers in a vase. "Devon, there's something we need to talk about."

Devon watches her carefully, but says nothing.

"About what happened in December," Tammie begins timidly. She hesitates, fidgeting with her fingers.

Devon gives her an understanding look. "You don't have to say another word, Tammie. I know where this is headed."

"You do?" Tammie feels her stomach twist into knots.

"Yes," Devon replies softly and places his hands on her shoulders. "Listen, Tammie, I've noticed how awkward you've been around me, and I know what you're going through."

"You do?" Tammie feels tears building up behind her eyes. The floodgates could break at any moment.

"Yes!" Devon slowly moves his hands to her neck, and then to the sides of her face. "Tammie, you don't have to feel awkward around me, okay?" He brings his face closer to hers. "You mean a lot to me, Tams. I'm not a player and you can trust me." Devon kisses her, and Tammie can't hold her tears any longer.

"Don't cry, Tammie," Devon speaks soothingly. "I love you, girl."

Relief washes over Tammie like a refreshing tide. "You do?" she sniffs.

"Of course I do," Devon says simply. "Do you believe me?"

Tammie nods, assured now that she can tell him, and he will make everything okay. "I'm so glad you love me, Devon." Tammie smiles. "I want you to know that-"

The doorbell rings for the second time that afternoon. Tammie silently curses the interruption, but Devon releases her face and saunters to the door. The bell rings twice more before Devon can reach it. Whoever is on the other side is adamant about being let in.

"Persistent, aren't they?" Devon mumbles under his breath before opening the door.

The other side of the door reveals a tall, elderly black woman with long hair and a serious face.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Devon asks.

After looking Devon over, the elderly woman tsks.

"I swear they keep getting younger and younger."

"Is that you, Grandma?" Tammie yells from the kitchen.

"Is that my sweet Granddaughter?" she asks in response.

Devon glances from one to the other, feeling left out. Tammie comes out of the kitchen and rushes to the door.

"Come in out of the air, Grandma!" Tammie exclaims. She is genuinely happy to see her. Her grandmother smiles at her as she walks inside and gives her a big hug. Devon smiles at her and extends his arms.

"Those look like some pretty good hugs. I'd sure like to get one."

"Well, I suppose I could spare another, but not until we've been introduced young man," her Grandmother replies.

Tammie smiles. "Devon, this is my Grandmother, Ms. Eloise McLeod. Grandma, this is Devon... my boyfriend."

"Oh! So this one belongs to you?" her Grandmother jokes. "For a moment there I feared Sadie was going through a mid-life crisis!"

Tammie smiles at her Grandmother's wit and leads her to the sofa in the living room.

"So, Devon, how long have you been dating my Granddaughter?"

"Only a few months," Devon replies. "But they've been good months."

"Well, Devon, I'll get right to the point," her Grandmother sits and stares at Devon with squinted eyes. "My Granddaughter is a very special young woman. She doesn't need any boy messing around with her feelings and pretending to be something he's not."

"Grandma!" Sometimes Tammie hates her Grandmother's straightforwardness.

Devon doesn't seem ruffled. "I realize that Tammie's very special, Ms. McLeod. I consider myself lucky... no, blessed, to have her in my life."

Miss Eloise seems very pleased with this answer, but tries not to show it. "And what do you intend to do with the rest of your life?"

"I want to become a lawyer. I want to make good money, raise a family, and stay as far away from small towns as possible. Lord willing, I'll get my Bachelor's in Criminal Justice at Clairmont University, go to law school, pass the bar, and eventually have my own law firm."

Miss Eloise cannot hide her approval. "Well! It's so refreshing to hear from a young man with goals. It seems you've got everything figured out."

"Well, it's a rough sketch at best, Ms. McLeod," Devon replies humbly. "Tell me about yourself and your accomplishments."

Tammie watches her Grandmother's face light up in delight as she begins her tale. She describes how God called her to ministry when she was thirteen, which is the number of brothers and sisters she had at the time, and how she's been preaching the gospel ever since. Twenty minutes later, after Tammie's mother comes out from hiding, Tammie pulls Devon away from the two women's doting affection.

"Devon and I are going for a walk," Tammie replies, much to the two women's disappointment.

Devon smiles at her Grandmother. "It was nice meeting you Ms. Eloise! You take care!"

"You too baby!" she replies jovially.

Tammie has to practically drag Devon out of the house to get him out from under the clutches of her Grandmother. They make their way to the park, one of their favorite places to be together, and sit on one of the benches.

Devon places his arm around Tammie and grabs her hand, rubbing his fingers in between hers. "What's on your mind, Tammie?" he asks her.

"Devon, I know you love me, but I can't help thinking this isn't going to work."

Devon leans in closer, kissing Tammie on the neck, then on the cheek as he whispers in her ear. "Don't worry babe, everything is going to be all right."

"I can't stop thinking about that night, Devon."

Devon draws back, unable to hide his apprehension. "It wasn't planned, Tammie. It just happened. We're in love. We couldn't help ourselves."

Tammie begins to whimper and Devon draws her closer. "Don't cry, Tammie. We'll be more careful, okay? Don't feel guilty. Love is nothing to feel guilty about."

"It's not that," Tammie huffs. She hates doing this a second time, but she has to tell him. It isn't fair to keep it from him. She can feel Devon's body tense, hear the change in his voice.

"What is it, then?" he asks with less softness than before.

Tammie hesitates. The last time she made this confession her best friend abandoned her. Still, she has to tell him. "I'm pregnant."

Devon laughs nervously. "Tammie, that's impossible."

"It's true, Devon," Tammie whispers as tears begin forming in her eyes yet again.

Devon frowns. Tammie watches dark clouds smolder in his eyes, and he lets go of her hand.

"What do you mean, you're pregnant?" he asks with an edge of panic in his voice.

"I'm... we... are going to have a baby."

Devon shakes his head. "No, no way! That's not possible!" Devon jumps up from the bench. "What have you been doing, Tammie?"

Tammie looks at Devon, dumbstruck. "What do you mean, what have _I_ been doing?"

"We only had sex one time, Tammie!" Devon exclaims.

"Once is all it takes, Devon!" Tammie retorts.

"I don't believe that," he says with clenched fists. "You've been messing around!"

"I have not!" Tammie denies it. "How can you even say that?"

"Because it's true!" he accuses. Devon rolls his eyes and runs his hand over his head. "I've been faithful to you since we've been together, and what do I get? Some crackpot story that you're having a baby? My baby? I've got my whole life ahead of me, Tammie! What am I gonna do with a baby?"

"I don't know!" Tammie cries. "I don't know what to do, Devon, that's why I'm telling you. I need your help."

Devon shakes his head as Tammie reaches for his hand. "Devon, please, just listen to me," she urges him. "We can work this out. We love each other. I know it won't be easy, but we can do it."

"I'd better take you home," Devon replies abruptly. Tammie feels her heart breaking for the hundredth time that day. After studying Devon for a few minutes, she agrees.

They barely speak during the walk back. Tammie runs through everything in her mind a million times, wondering where she went wrong this time. She takes consolation in the fact that her Grandmother is waiting for her at home. At least she will be there to comfort her, give her advice, and reassure her that she doesn't need a man to make it. Won't she?

When she opens the front door, Tammie is accosted by her grandmother.

"Honey," her grandmother starts. "That's a good boy going places! You'd better hold on to him! That's a rare breed, child, and you're very lucky to have him. Where is he?"

"He had to go, Grandma," Tammie replies as calmly as she can. "Listen, I'm not feeling too well, so I'm going to go lay down, okay?" Her Grandmother nods, still smiling over Devon.

If only they knew, Tammie thinks as she walks to her room. She sits down on the edge of her bed, gradually sinking until she connects with the floor.

"I hate him!" she whimpers. "How could he say those things to me? What did I do wrong?" Tammie cries intensely, cramming her pillow into her mouth to muffle the sound of her screams. She can't have this baby. It will change everything for her. Her life will be over, or she'll end up just like her mother. Tammie feels low. Lower than she's felt since finding out she was pregnant.

Now she is pregnant and completely unwanted. Jennifer doesn't want her, Devon doesn't want her, and if she tells her mother or Grandmother, neither of them will want her, either. Her mother will tell her how much of a burden a baby is, and how much of a burden Tammie having a baby will be. Her grandmother will chastise her for her sexual sin and condemn her.

She needs a way out of this. Tammie considers abortion, but the idea leaves as soon as it comes. She can't kill an innocent baby. No, there has to be another way. In the meantime, she needs a plan to hide her pregnancy. She doesn't want anyone else to know what's happened.

"Why did I tell him?" she demands the question of herself. It didn't make things any better. Now Devon hates her. She is ruining his life, and his life is full of so much potential. Devon has so many dreams, so many goals. How could she be so selfish?

Having so many siblings, Tammie knows where babies came from. Why didn't she protect herself? Why didn't she protect Devon?

Tammie reflects back to the day it all happened. It was the day she and Jennifer went to the movies with Devon. Max and Martin had been there as well, so Tammie left with Devon while Jennifer went home with Martin and Max.

But Tammie didn't go home.

She went to Devon's house, where they grabbed his car and headed to the lake. It was a beautiful man-made lake just behind Logoria Memorial Park. Devon was so romantic; he prepared a picnic basket and blanket on the grass by the water. It was cold, but she didn't care. Tammie enjoyed spending that afternoon with Devon, teasing him and taunting him. She'd playfully pushed Devon near the water. Devon had taken it as a challenge, and he pushed her back. They both eventually ended up in the water. It was early December, and though the temperature was in the seventies, the water was not. They were both cold and soaked.
Chapter Three

Temptation

"Come on, Tammie, let's get to the car," Devon suggested. Tammie nodded in compliance and they both grabbed their stuff and headed to the car, dripping with the lake's crystal water. They drove to Devon's house because it was closer than hers. As soon as they got in the house Devon grabbed towels for the both of them.

"I'm gonna have to dry out my car," Devon grimaced.

Tammie shrugged and playfully pushed him. "Well, I think you're kind of cute when you're wet."

Devon looked up at her and smiled. "Oh, really?"

Tammie smiled coyly and turned away. Devon gently grabbed her arm and slowly pulled her close.

"You're not so bad yourself," he said, his mouth barely an inch from hers.

Tammie began to say something, but before she could, Devon had her lips locked in his. Tammie felt the blood rushing from her veins as his kiss intensified. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, not wanting him to let her go. Devon ran his hand along her back, and Tammie jumped as electricity shot through her body. Tammie's mind turned to mush as she tried to sort through her emotions. All she could think of was how firm the muscles on his neck were, how great the kiss was, and how much she didn't want this to stop.

Devon moved from her lips to her cheek and her neck. He caressed her shoulder and Tammie felt herself trembling with excitement.

"We should do something about these wet clothes," Devon whispered in her ear. The warmth of his breath traveled to every inch of her body, igniting her insides.

"Come on, Tams." Tammie followed him as he led her to his room. "I really do love that shirt on you," Devon complimented, kissing her behind her ear. Tammie blushed.

"We shouldn't stay in these." Devon pointed at Tammie's clothes. "I have some T-shirts and sweats you can wear. They're in the dresser beside the lamp."

Tammie made her way to the dresser, but stopped to watch Devon pull his shirt over his head. She was impressed with his flawless form. Tammie glanced at her own flabby physique and sighed. She wished she were in better shape. Devon could be with any girl, yet here he was with her. She must be special to him. She had to be.

•••

Tammie blinks away fresh tears. Her heart feels torn in a million pieces. She needs to get out of the house before she loses her mind. She grabs her purse and leaves without her mother or grandmother noticing.

Her brother is outside playing on the swing as she ambles through the yard. He looks up at her with curious eyes as she walks past him.

"I'm going for a walk, okay, buddy?" Tammie speaks quickly. He nods and continues his blissful activity on the swing.

•••

"Go ahead and change," Devon suggested to Tammie as he slipped off his pants. Tammie watched him, awe struck. He was so comfortable taking off his clothes in front of her. Even though he had his shorts on underneath, he didn't seem at all embarrassed for her to see him. She wished she could be that way with him, trust him completely, but she couldn't let him see her. Not until she lost more weight.

Devon glanced her way and smiled as he watched her fumble with the buttons on her shirt. He made his way towards Tammie, shirt casually slung over his shoulder. He didn't seem to be in any hurry to put it on, either. He was watching her every move, and Tammie felt her dark skin turning red.

Devon grabbed her trembling hand. "Want some help with that?" he whispered. His voice sounded so sweet, so comforting, Tammie could only nod yes. Her heart rate increased as Devon began slowly undoing the buttons on her shirt. He wasn't even touching her, why was she so excited?

Before the thought could leave her mind, Devon's fingers grazed the bare skin of Tammie's chest. Devon looked at Tammie adoringly and smiled.

"Your skin is so soft," Devon commented.

"Thanks," Tammie barely choked the word out. Devon kissed her again and Tammie forgot her embarrassment. He wanted her. She knew that without any doubt. And she wanted him too.
Chapter Four

Diner Dash

"Tammie? Are you okay?"

Tammie wipes the tears from her face and turns away, pulling her jacket closer to her face.

"Tammie?"

"I'm okay," Tammie whispers.

Max moves closer to where Tammie is standing, but not too close. He doesn't want to invade her space. She's obviously been crying but is trying to hide it. He understands her need for privacy and keeps his distance.

"You sure you're okay?" Max makes one final attempt.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay," Tammie speaks again, irritation glazing her response.

"Okay, well, um, could you help me out?" Max changes the subject.

Tammie turns toward him. Max is in the middle of West Park, located just behind Wellis High School. Most people don't come to the park unless they live in the area, so what is Max doing here?

"Are you lost or something?" Tammie asks.

"Yeah, actually," Max hems. "I'm staying with Officer Kent for a little while. He lives a few blocks from here, and he told me there was a diner somewhere by the park where the high school kids hang out. I've been walking around for about a half hour. It's getting a little cool, and I still haven't seen the diner."

Tammie nods. "It's right across the street," she points to a diner with a large sign posted out front.

Max glances at the sign and smiles. "Ha, what do you know? Right there in front of me. What would I do without you, Tammie?"

Tammie shrugs; she isn't in the mood to talk.

"Ok, well, I guess I'll see you around?" Max risks lightly touching her shoulder with his hand. Through that small touch her resolve breaks, and Tammie's eyes flood with tears. Max watches apprehensively as she crumbles before his eyes. Not knowing what else to do, Max pulls her into an embrace, rubbing her back softly. Tammie sobs on his chest, muffling her cries in his shirt.

"It's okay," he speaks soothingly. "It's alright, Tammie. It's going to be okay, just let it out." Tammie does just that. By the time her cries subside, Max's shirt is soaked.

"I'm sorry," Tammie rasps.

"It's okay," Max shrugs. He looks at Tammie's tear-stained face. Her eyes are puffy and red. Her throat has to be dry. "Can I buy you a soda or something?" he offers.

Tammie nods in consent, and they walk to the diner across the street. They sit in a corner booth, and Max orders two cream sodas. He's glad Mr. Kent gave him some money before he left.

Max is quiet, allowing Tammie time to gather her thoughts. When she finishes her soda, he tries to speak to her.

"Wanna talk about it?" he asks.

Tammie shakes her head, and fresh tears brim, then gently cascade down her face.

Max immediately regrets his first question.

"I'm sorry, Tammie, I shouldn't push you to talk." Max looks away as Tammie continues to cry. He doesn't know what is wrong with her, but he feels responsible to fix it.

He turns to Tammie and smiles. "So did I tell you my dad is in rehab?"

Tammie shakes her head and wipes her tears. "No, I'm sorry to hear that, Max."

"No, it's good," Max assures her. "He's getting help, and that's great news. Of course, that's why I'm with Mr. Kent. My dad had a little falling out with Mr. West, so I couldn't stay with Martin. Mr. Kent offered to take me in as soon as he found out my dad was checking himself in to the center."

"How long?" Tammie asks.

Max smiles to himself, glad to see that Tammie is no longer crying.

"Six weeks. Then he'll be attending weekly AA meetings for a year. After that, I'm not sure. He'll still meet with a support group, but on a volunteer basis."

"That's good," Tammie comments. "Do you still work at the Children's Hospital?"

Max sighs. "Not for much longer. My required hours are almost up, and with so many different transitions in the last few months, it's been difficult getting around."

Tammie nods in understanding. "How have you been, I mean, without your mom? It's been-"

"About four months," Max sighs. "Four very long months."

Tammie gives Max a look of apology. "I'm sorry if I brought up painful memories."

Max waves his hand in dismissal. "It's okay. I like talking about her and remembering her."

"You must miss her," Tammie comments.

Max nods. "I didn't think I could make it through the holidays without her. First Thanksgiving, then Christmas and the New Year; they came and went without her. I gotta admit, watching everyone else enjoying the holidays made me angry. My world fell apart when my mom died, and I expected everyone else's to be a little less cheery."

Max looks at Tammie. "It just didn't seem fair, you know? I was stuck in time, but life could care less if I was hurting and went right on without me."

Tammie nods in agreement. "I know what you mean. I mean..." Tammie glances at Max in panic, hoping he won't push her to continue. He doesn't, and Tammie is grateful. "So, will you be attending Wellis now?" Tammie changes the subject.

Max shakes his head. "Mr. Kent is going to drive me to LHS in the morning, and I'll take the bus back here in the afternoons." Max watches Tammie's expression shift down in disappointment.

He continues, "You know, Martin's got basketball-itis, so until the season is over, I'm pretty much flying solo after school. I could use a friend, if you don't mind the company."

"Well, I'm pretty friendless right now, so having some company in the afternoon would be nice," Tammie concedes.

Max frowns. "I thought maybe you and Jennifer hung out in the afternoon, or you and your boyfriend-"

Tammie shakes her head, interrupting Max. "Jennifer and I haven't spoken in weeks and my boyfriend and I broke up."

"Oh," They both sit in silence for several moments before Max speaks. "So, are those subjects off-limits?"

"For now," Tammie nods.

"Hm," Max looks up in thought. "Can you cook?" he asks.

Tammie isn't expecting the question. "Can I cook?"

"Yea, can you cook?" Max asks again.

"Um, yes," Tammie answers slowly. "Why?"

"Will you cook for me?" Max grins.

"Excuse me?" Tammie's voice goes higher. "Why should I cook for you?"

"Well, because I'm your friend," Max feigns shock. "Don't you cook for your friends?"

"Not really," Tammie replies.

"Well, I'm making a special request," Max smiles. "Promise you'll cook something for me?"

"No way," Tammie shakes her head. "Cook your own food!"

"I do," Max sighs. "That's why I'm asking you to cook for me." Tammie raises her eyebrows.

Max looks down in shame. "I never learned to cook. I always assumed my mom would do it. My dad assumed the same. Mr. Kent's no good in the kitchen either. Me and my dad had turkey sandwiches for Thanksgiving and ham sandwiches for Christmas. I haven't had a good home-cooked meal in a very long time, and I'm asking you as my friend to be merciful, take pity on me, and cook for me. Please?" Max places his hands together in a begging motion.

Tammie sighs. "Alright," she shakes her head. "Since you are _so_ pathetic, I will take pity on you, have mercy, and cook for you."

"Really?" Max's eyes dance. "You promise?"

Tammie smiles. "I promise."

Max smiles as he jumps up and hugs her. "You don't know how happy you've made me!" he laughs.

Tammie laughs with him, thrown off guard by his embrace. "But, there's one condition," she adds.

Max cheeses. "What's that?"

"You have to help me."

Max's face goes blank.

Tammie sighs in exasperation. "Give a man a fish, you feed him for a day; teach a man to cook, you'll feed him for the rest of his life."

"I see," Max frowns.

"Don't pout," Tammie smiles. "Trust me, I am doing you a big favor."

"Perhaps," Max shrugs. He looks at his watch. "I'd better get going before O.K. comes looking for me."

Tammie shrugs, attempting to hide her disappointment. "Thanks for talking with me, Max." She smiles as best she can.

Max places his hand on her shoulder. "Anytime you need me, you can call. Here," Max pulls a pen from his back pocket and scribbles a number on a napkin. "That's O.K.'s number. Call anytime between 7:00 am and 10:00 pm. The ringer is off any time before or after that."

"Okay, Max," Tammie smiles. "I'll see you around?"

Max nods and Tammie waves goodbye as he walks out of the restaurant.

Tammie bites her lip and sighs. She sits in the booth several more minutes, staring at her empty glass. Her tears come flooding back, and Tammie quickly leaves.

•••

"Martin, how do you feel about dating someone outside your race?" Max asks.

Martin shrugs as he tosses a basketball in the air. It soars across the court and into the hoop, making a _whoosh_ sound as it slides through the net.

"Nothin' but net," Martin smiles smugly. "Your turn."

Martin passes the ball to Max. He catches it, reluctantly, and steps up to the half court line. "Have I told you I hate this game?" Max grimaces.

"Just shut up and shoot," Martin smiles.

Max bounces the ball three times before tossing it into the air. It soars effortlessly through the air, past the 3-point line, the free-throw line, and then past the hoop. It bounces off the back wall and then back to Max and Martin.

"Nice," Martin smiles.

Max rolls his eyes. "It's just not my sport. Besides, I'm distracted."

"Over what?" Martin chuckles as he grabs the ball and shoots another time. "By the way, that's 'S' for you." The ball makes another _whoosh_ as it goes through the net.

"I'm just thinking about stuff," Max mumbles.

Martin grabs the ball, but pauses before tossing it to Max again. "Is it your dad?"

Max shakes his head. "No, nothing like that. I ran into Tammie a few days ago and she hasn't called, and-"

"Tammie?" Martin interrupts. "As in Tammie McLeod?"

Max looks up at him. "Yeah, Tammie M., Jennifer's friend from the church. She lives on the west side, and I ran into her a couple days ago."

"And?" Martin pries.

"And we had a soda, we talked, I gave her my number, and I haven't heard from her since."

Martin is quiet a long time.

"Aren't you going to say something? Anything?" Max asks.

Martin shrugs. "It's probably for the best."

"What makes you say that?" Max asks. "Is it because I'm white? I mean, I know that sort of thing matters in real life, even though we _say_ things like that don't matter-"

"No, no it's not like that," Martin stops Max's rambling. "It's just that Tammie's got a lot going on with her, and she probably needs to sort some things out."

"How do you know?" Max's voice is full of alarm. "Did she say something to you? Have you been talking to her?"

"What? No, not at all," Martin backpedals. "It's just that Jennifer told me she is going through an... issue." Martin stops, hoping he hasn't said too much already. If Tammie wants Max to know her private business, she will be the one to tell him. Martin certainly isn't going to cross that boundary.

"What, you mean with her boyfriend? Or, ex-boyfriend? She told me about him," Max chuckles, his voice more relaxed. "But, do you think maybe she still has feelings for him?"

"That's a possibility," Martin offers.

"Yeah," Max nods. "She did seem pretty heartbroken. If she's got some feelings and stuff to sort through, I guess she doesn't need anyone complicating things for her, right?"

"Probably not," Martin agrees.

"Yeah, she's in no condition to begin any sort of romantic relationship, I bet," Max explains.

"I agree 100%," Martin nods.

"She could probably use a friend, though," Max adds. "You know, someone to listen to her problems, a shoulder to cry on."

Martin nods his head. "Absolutely."

"I think she needs me," Max smiles.

"Not," Martin shakes his head.

"She definitely likes me," Max adds, "as a friend of course."

"I'm sure, but Max-" Martin isn't able to finish.

"And she told me her and Jennifer still aren't speaking, so I'm guessing she's pretty lonely," Max continues.

"Yeah, but Max you know how you are..."

"And I need someone to talk to, too," Max grins from ear to ear. "No offense, Martin, but you're hard to catch up with during basketball season, unless I come practice this silly game with you."

"Excuse me?" Martin takes an injured tone.

"Yeah, I think Tammie and I could really help each other out," Max is convinced.

"Max, now's not a good time, you said so yourself," Martin is flustered.

"Not for a new boyfriend, of course, but a boy _friend_? There's nothing wrong with that!" Max chuckles as he reaches into his pocket for a pen. "Do you have Tammie's number?"

Martin shakes his head. "Max, I don't think this is a good idea."

Max pauses. "You're right. I should ask Jennifer."

Martin throws the ball at Max. "No! Don't ask Jennifer! You're not listening, Max. Calling Tammie right now will just confuse her or, at best, distract her. Do both of you a favor and just back off."

Max stares at Martin a long time before speaking. "It's because I'm white, isn't it?"

"Max!" he groans, rolling his eyes.

"I am listening," Max retorts, throwing the ball back to Martin. "And I got the message loud and clear. Thanks for the support, Martin."

"C'mon, Max, don't be that way," Martin chides. "Just take my advice, please?"

Max looks up in thought. "Ok, I won't call her. But! If she calls me, I'm not going to avoid her. Fair enough?"

Martin sighs. "Fair enough," Martin agrees and hands Max the ball.

Max doesn't bother bouncing the ball this time. He simply tosses it in the air. "If I find out that you hooked up with her behind my back, you're toast."

Martin laughs as the ball bounces off the wall again.
Chapter Five

Kicked Out

Max walks into the office, curious, but otherwise calm. His behavior at school has been exemplary for the last several weeks, and his grades have seen a drastic improvement this semester.

"You wanted to see me, Principal Burke?"

Mr. Burke doesn't look up at Max. "Yes, sit down, Maxwell."

Max sits comfortably in the chair across from Mr. Burke's desk, then considers his posture and sits up straight. Max waits as patiently as he can through several moments of awkward silence. Mr. Burke seems unfazed as he shuffles and sorts through several papers. Max begins to wonder if he's forgotten that he's there.

Finally, Mr. Burke breaks the silence. "I wonder, Maxwell, if you're aware of your blatant violations of the dress code?"

Max looks down at his clothing, which consists of faded jeans and a well worn orange sweater. "Sir?" Max questions.

Mr. Burke looks directly at Max. "You've been written up numerous times for your appearance, Mr. Shaw. Notices have been sent to your address, and not one of these notices has been signed, acknowledged, or received in this office. How do you explain that?"

Max is baffled. "Mr. Burke, I haven't been written up for the way I dress. None of my teachers-"

"These are citations written by hall monitors and other school staff, despite your instructors' negligence to report you," Mr. Burke cuts him off.

"No one has come to me and complained about the way I dress," Max frowns.

"You know the proper way to dress, Max. The school dress code hasn't changed for at least six years now," Mr. Burke replies gruffly.

"Can you give me some examples?" Max is becoming agitated.

"You wear baggy pants, un-tucked shirts, pants without a belt and jeans with holes on a very regular basis."

"What?" Max shakes his head. "I had trouble with my pants, like, one day because my belt broke during lunch. It was wearing thin, anyway, and I got a new one from Martin by the end of the day."

"How touching," Mr. Burke replies with sarcasm.

Max continues his defense. "Listen, my dad's been out of work since my mom died, and he can't afford to buy me new clothes, so I wear what I have. If anyone had a problem with it, they should have told me so I could fix it. I didn't know I was in violation, otherwise I would have fixed it."

Mr. Burke glances down at his papers. "So twelve times in the last two months you didn't know you were violating our school's dress code policy?"

Max sighs in exasperation. "No one told me I wasn't following the dress code."

Mr. Burke scoffs. "Nevertheless, you received a handbook the same as every other student attending Logoria, and you know the standards. What, should we give you special treatment because your mother died?"

Max catches himself before an ugly remark leaves his mouth. He counts to three slowly before speaking. "I don't expect special treatment, Mr. Burke, but a little compassion?"

Mr. Burke ignores him. "That's not why I brought you in here, Max. I sent notices to your house regarding your violations," Max opens his mouth, but Mr. Burke puts his hand up, "twice I might add, with instructions to sign and return the enclosed documentation immediately. I haven't received either notice back, and when I called your house number it was disconnected. Do you care to explain what happened to those notices you claim to have no knowledge of?" Mr. Burke's expression is smug.

Max opens his mouth, but is suddenly ashamed. For the first time, he notices Mr. Burke's black tailored suit, green and black silk tie and expensive shirt. Most of the adults working at Logoria High dress this way. The students dress accordingly with expensive clothes and shoes. Max suddenly feels out of place.

"Speak up, Maxwell," Mr. Burke barks.

"We...we moved, sir," Max says.

"Well, write down your new address, as well as a new phone number so I can contact your father regarding your behavior." Mr. Burke speaks impatiently as he hands Max a Post-It note. Max begins writing Officer Kent's address. He pauses after writing the zip code, then hands the paper back to Mr. Burke.

Mr. Burke stares at him. Condescension oozes from each word as he speaks. "Maxwell, I believe I asked you to write down your home phone number as well." Max swallows, but doesn't speak.

"Maxwell," Mr. Burke continues to speak to him as though he is a child. "Don't you have a phone number?"

Max shakes his head. "I'm staying with a friend while my father is in rehab. You can't reach him at the facility by phone."

Mr. Burke sits back in his chair smugly, rolling his eyes as he speaks. "How convenient! Your father can't be reached, so I can't communicate his son's behavior. What do you suppose we do, then, Maxwell?"

Max shrugs. "He can receive letters. I can give you the address there." Max grabs another Post-It from the desk and begins writing the address.

Mr. Burke watches, amused, as Max writes down the address. He stares at the first piece of paper and studies it.

"Maxwell," Mr. Burke ponders. "This address where you're staying, isn't it on the other side of town?"

Max looks up. "Yeah, it's just a few blocks from Wellis High School." He hands Mr. Burke the paper.

"Well, we do have a problem here, then, don't we?" Mr. Burke speaks more to himself than to Max.

"What do you mean?" Max asks.

"Well, according to zoning regulations, residents west of Rail Street must attend Wellis High," Mr. Burke shakes his head and tsks.

"What does that have to do with me?" Max asks with increasing apprehension.

"Well, this means we have to transfer you to Wellis," Mr. Burke replies.

"Wellis?" Max frowns.

Mr. Burke nods. "Immediately."

His words are hard for Max to digest. "Excuse me?" Max asks, bemused.

"So sorry Max," Mr. Burke speaks with little sympathy.

Max blinks. "You can't do that! This is my school! I mean, you can't just transfer me, and besides, this address is just temporary!"

"Oh, is that so?" Mr. Burke looks at the address again.

"Yes, I'm staying with a friend until my dad gets on his feet. He's expecting a housing application to go through and then we'll have a permanent address." Max is pleading with his eyes as he speaks. "Mr. Burke, this is just a temporary situation for us."

Mr. Burke shakes his head, "Maxwell, I really wish I could help you, but my hands are tied. Based on the address you just gave me, you are out of Logoria High's district."

"Mr. Burke," Max pleads.

"Even if I used the address for your father's rehab center—which I would never do—it too is out of Logoria's district. In fact, the only housing projects in the city of Logoria are outside the district of this high school! So whichever way you look at it, I'm afraid I have no choice but to transfer you."

"Mr. Burke this is wrong," Max struggles to control his emotion as he speaks.

Mr. Burke looks up at Max and smiles. "Max, I'm sure you think so now, but once you've settled down you'll realize that I'm doing you a favor." Max raises his eyebrows, and Mr. Burke sighs in exasperation.

"Max, you have very few friends here, if any, and the only things you have to hold on to are what I'm sure are very painful memories."

Max lowers his head, and Mr. Burke continues. "Max, everything you've done here has been negative. Do you really want to continue your education in a place where everyone knows what you've done?"

Mr. Burke leans in closer. "And don't think anyone here has forgotten just how and why your mother was killed. Pain like that can crush a young teen like you, Max. I'm just looking at the bigger picture here."

"What did I do to you?" Max asks, dejected. "I admit it, ok? A few months ago, I was disrespectful and disruptive, and I acted like a clown, but not once was I treated like this. And now I'm doing well in school, my grades are up, and I've been doing everything I can to live a clean life, and you're kicking me out? Why?"

Mr. Burke shakes his head impatiently. "Max, I suggest you think of this as a fresh start; a chance to start over, make new friends, and move on. Otherwise you're only setting yourself up for disappointment, because frankly, there is no place for you here in my school. You've worn out your welcome with your mischief, and the student body is much better off without you here."

Mr. Burke clears his throat. "We're done here, Max. I'm sorry, but as of tomorrow, you'll be attending Wellis."

Max shakes his head in disbelief. "Just like that?"

Mr. Burke nods. "You can finish out the day, Max, but tomorrow don't come here." Mr. Burke returns to the paperwork in front of him, indicating that he is done with Max.

Max takes slow, heavy steps out of the office and into the hall.

•••

"So that's it?" He just kicked you out of the school, just like that?" Martin is livid. The way Mr. Burke treated Max makes his blood boil.

"Yeah, he just said 'adios sucker,' and now I'm being transferred to Wellis," Max is despondent.

"He can't do this, Max. I mean there have to be laws or something against this, right?" Martin rubs the back of his head, thinking out loud. "If I tell my dad, I'm sure he can pull some strings, maybe talk some sense into Mr. Burke."

"Thanks, Martin," Max hesitates. "It's just... the way he spoke to me; it was like I was nobody."

"You're not, Max," Martin speaks quickly. "Mr. Burke was wrong, so don't start thinking what I know you're thinking."

"But Martin, I feel that way," Max shakes his head. "I've been trying so hard to change, and for what? For this? I thought..." Max sighs. "I thought that maybe, just maybe, if I kept my nose clean and my alcohol level, you know, below the legal limit, things would work out for me, but they're not."

Martin studies his friend carefully. "Max, listen to me. You are _not_ a nobody, and the changes in your life haven't been for nothing. You're my best friend, Max, and you keep my head on straight. That may not seem like much to you, but it means everything to me."

"Yeah, until you see Jennifer. Then she's all you see," Max smiles blandly. "Martin, I know you mean well, but face it. This is my lot."

"Have you been drinking, Max?" Martin asks abruptly.

Max stares at him in shock, then lowers his head, avoiding eye contact. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I know you, Max." Martin's face is stern. "If you're going through this pity party because you feel guilty, Max..."

"I know better, Martin," Max puts his hand up to stop Martin from continuing. "I just... sometimes this gets really hard. And I know I swore I'd never go back to the way I was, and I won't, but sometimes I get so overwhelmed."

Martin sighed. "How much?"

Max shakes his head. "Not much."

"How often?"

"Just every now and again," Max hems. "And it's never more than one."

Martin stares at Max.

"I know what you must be thinking," Max speaks quietly. "But this isn't easy for me, you know."

"Max," Martin shakes his head. "You're trying to do this thing on your own. Failure is inevitable. You and I both know you need help, and we both know where you can get it."

Max shakes his head. "Martin, we've talked about this before."

"I know, and it still hasn't sunk in," Martin interjects. "Max, let go and let God help you."

Max clenchs his jaw and shakes his head. "I'm not ready for that, Martin."

"Yes you are!" Martin exclaims. "You just don't think God's ready for you. But he is, Max. You don't have to do this alone, and you don't have to make things right before you come to Him. He's the one who makes you right, not you."

"Could we just talk about something else?" Max pleads. "I just found out I'm being kicked out of school, and I wanna think about something less depressing. Just give me a break, alright Martin?"

Martin nods in consent. "I don't mean to be pushy, Max." Martin sighs. "I'll give you some space and catch up with you this evening. I need to talk with my dad anyway."

Max nods and waves as Martin makes his way to the basketball courts.
Chapter Six

Maxie

"So, Mr. Burke told him not to come to school tomorrow?" Mr. West asks.

"Yeah, he told him to finish out the day and he'd be transferred by this afternoon," Martin frowns.

Mr. West sighs. "Let me make a few calls. I'll see what I can do."

"You're the DA, dad, I'm sure you can do something," Martin scoffs.

Mr. West shakes his head. "Martin, I can't just throw my weight around because I'm in a position of power. I have ethics and morals, and I intend to stand on them. I'll try to reason with the school board, but I can't force them to do anything. It's their call, not mine."

Martin rolls his eyes. "Why would they do that, dad? I mean, who cares if he goes to school outside of his district? It's bogus."

"I'll find out what I can, Martin. I think I can at least reason with them enough to let Max finish the rest of the week."

"That's it? Just the rest of the week? Come on, dad," Martin frowns.

Mr. West studies his son's demeanor before speaking. "Martin, have you considered that maybe Max going to another school would be better for him?"

Martin is speechless, but only for a moment. "Are you kidding me? How can you ask that, or even think that?"

"Martin," Mr. West sighs.

"Max is my best friend, dad," Martin's voice level rises, "They're taking away my best friend, and for what? I need him to stay, ok? Can you do this one thing for me? Make them let him stay, dad, I know you can do that. You've done way more than that for me, so I know you can do this. Please?"

Mr. West clears his throat. "Martin, please don't put me in a position like this..."

"You're already in that position, dad!" Martin exclaims. "This isn't right, and you know it. Don't tell me you're just gonna let it happen?" Martin shakes his head, his expression full of disappointment. "Is this about what happened between you and Mr. Shaw?"

Mr. West shakes his head quickly. "Martin, what happened between me and Max's father is between us. I promise you, I will do what I can, okay?"

Martin puts his head down and nods. "I'm sure you will," he responds, unconvinced.

"Just think about what I said, Martin," Mr. West grabs his son by the shoulder. "Sometimes things happen in life that we don't like, but their purpose is to help us grow. This may be just what Max needs."

Martin shrugs off his father's hands and walks away while he is still speaking. He makes his way to his room and slams the door shut. Mr. West sighs and grabs his cell phone.

•••

Max watches glumly as Mr. Kent gets off the phone with Mr. West. "Got good news and bad news," Mr. Kent's expression is somber.

Max nods and waits for the verdict.

"The bad news is that your transfer is still in effect," Mr. Kent sighs. Max nods his head knowingly. Mr. Kent continues. "The good news is that they're giving you until the end of the week to make the transfer. Mr. West spoke with members of the school board and convinced them that making you transition so soon is unreasonable."

"Making me leave at all is unreasonable," Max mumbles.

Mr. Kent sighs and sits on the couch next to Max. "Hey, it's gonna be okay, Max. I'm here for you, alright? I have no problem taking you to school, to the hospital, or even to Martin's house. In fact, I want you to have these, in case I can't take you somewhere." Mr. Kent pulls a set of keys out of his pocket."

Max stares at the keys and then back at Mr. Kent.

"Keys to my car, Mr. Shaw," Mr. Kent smiles. "Of course, I wanted to give you my police cruiser, but my boss told me that wouldn't look good. So, I'm giving you my street car."

Max stares at Mr. Kent. "You're serious?"

Mr. Kent nods. "It's yours whenever you need it, okay? You don't have to ask my permission. Just let me know where you're going and when you'll be back, and make sure you don't break curfew."

Max swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't know what to say."

"A simple 'thank you, you're the best O.K., and when I grow up I wanna be just like you, and I'll love you for the rest of my life' will do," Mr. Kent smiles.

"Well, all of that, then," Max smirks. "Thank you. My day up to this point has pretty much sucked."

"Consider this a promise of things to come, Maxie," Mr. Kent smiles.

Max pauses and looks at Mr. Kent.

"What is it?" Mr. Kent frowns.

"You called me Maxie." Max answers. "My mom used to call me that. I hated it."

"Oh," Mr. Kent gives him an apologetic look. "I won't call you that if you don't want me to, Max. Honestly it just come out that way."

"No, it's fine," Max assures him. "It's just... no one's called me that since she passed."

Mr. Kent studies Max. "Max, I haven't discussed this with your father, yet, but do you think you two would consider going to grief counseling? Say, once a month?"

"Grief counseling?" Max questions.

"Yes," Mr. Kent looks intensely at Max. "Up to this point you've been dealing with your mother's death alone. Your father has been too involved in his own problems to help you, and though Martin and I can help, you need to be able to interact with people who've been there. I've noticed a depression in you that I haven't seen since those first few weeks, and I really think you should get some counseling. Both you and your father together, if it's possible."

Max nods. "Will you ask my dad when he gets out?"

Mr. Kent nods. "I'll suggest it to him and see what he says."
Chapter Seven

Lovesick

Tammie puts her book down and stares out the window. She watches as a nest of baby birds cry for their mother to feed them. How can she feed so many mouths? How can Tammie feed just one mouth? Her baby will be dependent on her for care, and she has no way to give it to him or her. What is she going to do?

"Everyone, please put your books down and take out your pencils," Ms. Lovett, her English teacher, interrupts her thoughts. They are about to have a pop quiz on the first chapter of the book everyone is reading. Right at this moment she can't recall the name of the book.

A knock at the door stops her from worrying too much. The door opens to reveal Mr. Wick, the school counselor, and a student behind him.

"Apologies for the interruption, Ms. Lovett, but you have a new student." Mr. Wick pushes the student forward. Ms. Lovett smiles and directs him to a seat behind Tammie. Tammie smiles at him, and he smiles back.

"Tammie," Ms. Lovett instructs. "Please take our new student to study hall and go over what we're doing in class. You know, bring him up to speed. You'll be exempt from today's pop quiz."

Tammie smiles and nods, relieved that she won't have to take the quiz.

She and the new student walk out of the classroom towards the study hall.

"It's good to see a familiar face," the new kid smiles at her.

"It's good to see you, Max," Tammie replies. "I didn't know you were going to start attending Wellis."

"Neither did I until last week," Max shakes his head. "The principal booted me out on a technicality, but Martin and I are working on a way to get around it."

"Well for however long you're here, welcome," Tammie hands him her book.

"We're reading the Grapes of Wrath, by John Steinbeck."

"Oh, how far along is the class?" Max asks.

Tammie shrugs. "Don't worry, we just started on Chapter one, and some of the kids in class still don't have a book. The library ran out of copies. The AP English class was cancelled since they didn't have enough students to participate, and everyone was crammed into the regular English class."

Tammie stops in front of the study hall door and turns the knob, instructing Max to go inside. He obeys. They sit down at one of the round tables.

"Can't they just order more books?" Max raises his eyebrows.

Tammie shakes her head. "They don't have enough money to buy twenty more copies, and besides, a lot of new books they get are stolen. The students have to buy the book or borrow it from the public library. A lot of the students come from low income families who can't afford to buy a school book, or don't think they should have to, so Ms. Lovett is giving everyone enough time to get the book however they can. She even bought a few copies of her own to lend to students."

Max nods his head. "Wow, so I guess if I try to find the book at the public library?"

"You won't find it," Tammie shrugs. "All available copies are gone."

"So, why didn't anyone sign up for the AP English class?" Max asks.

Tammie shrugs again. "Some say the work load is too heavy. A lot of them get discouraged because even if they graduate, they can't afford college, and some of the girls who were in the honors program last year got pregnant and dropped out." Tammie goes quiet, hoping Max will move on.

"That's too bad," Max shrugs. "What's your next class, Tammie?"

Tammie is glad to change the subject. "I have Pre-Calculus, then Gym, then Anatomy. You?"

"Um..." Max pulls out his schedule for her to look at it.

Tammie smiles at his schedule. 'You have Chemistry with Mr. Tate. That won't be too bad. You have Gym with me, and then you go to the Allied Health and Vocational building for... nursing?"

Max nods. "Yeah, I thought I'd give it a try. Since I've been working at the children's hospital I've taken an interest."

Tammie smiles. "Okay, well I can show you where the building is if you'd like?"

"I would love nothing more," Max croons and moves his face intimately close to Tammie's, whispering in her ear. "Just promise you won't try to violate me."

"What?" Tammie raises her eyebrows in shock and breaks into laughter, unable to contain herself. Max nods and does a macho presentation of himself, dusting his shoulders and running his hand through his hair as Tammie continues to laugh.

"You are a nut!" Tammie pushes his face away. The door to study hall opens and Devon walks in. Max sees him first and gives him a polite nod. Tammie turns, locking her eyes on Devon's face. Devon stares briefly, first at Tammie, then at Max, before finding the table furthest away.

Tammie breaks her stare and glances nervously at her watch. "I guess it's time for us to part ways. First period is over."

Max raises his eyebrows. "How do you know? I didn't even hear the bell ring."

"The bell's broken," Tammie explains, chancing another look at Devon. "Practically everything in this school is broken."

Max laughs, "So if I don't have a watch?"

"Just watch the other students," Tammie smirks. "There's a five minute break between classes. Don't worry, you'll catch on quick."

Max sneaks an opportunity to touch Tammie and pulls her into a hug. "Oh Tammie," he exclaims, imitating Scarlet O'Hara. "What would I do without you?"

Tammie immediately shoots a look at Devon to see if he is watching. He is. Tammie takes advantage of the moment and returns Max's hug with affection. Max smiles and releases her, satisfied with the exchange.

Devon bristles, obviously agitated, as he watches Tammie and Max leave study hall. He picks up his book and begins viciously turning the pages.

Tammie's heart returns to a normal rate the moment Devon is out of sight. Max is asking her where the Allied Health Building is when she stops him.

"Max, you know that guy who walked in?" Tammie grabs his arm anxiously.

"Not personally, but yes I know of whom you speak," Max takes on a British persona. "Pray tell, what is the matter, my dear?"

Tammie sighs and glances at the door, hoping Devon will burst through it at any moment and reclaim her. "That's my boyfriend. Well, my ex-boyfriend."

"Oh," is Max's only reply.

"I don't think he liked us hugging," Tammie puts her hands in her back pockets. "Max, I know this may sound odd, but could you do me a favor?"

"Certainly!" Max continues with his accent and places her hands in his. "Spit it out, my dearest Tammie."

Tammie smiles at his cheesy imitation. "Whenever we're together and you see him, could you hug me again?"

Max smiles devilishly. "I'll be your man-slave if that's what you want."

Tammie punches his arm softly. "That won't be necessary, I just need a hug."

Max feigns disappointment and resumes his normal voice. "Oh, okay, if that's all you want. Of course, I could do more," Max smiles at her and grabs her by her hands again. "Much, much more." Max puckers his lips, closes his eyes, and advances toward Tammie, who watches him in amusement.

"What are you doing?" Tammie asks with raised eyebrows.

Max stands up straight and opens his eyes, smiling as he speaks. "Smelling my upper lip, of course," Max waves a shy hand at her.

"With your eyes closed?" Tammie smiles.

Max rolls his eyes and sighs. "Everyone knows when you shut down one of your five senses, the others become stronger."

Tammie plays along. "Ah, so by closing your eyes, you made your sense of smell stronger!"

Max snaps his fingers. "Exactly! You're brilliant!" He grabs her hand and swings it in a child-like fashion. "Now, show me to my class!"

"Okay," Tammie guides him to the Vocational Building. "Max?" she speaks his name as they reach the entrance.

"Yes?" Max answers.

"Aren't you even going to ask me why I want you to hug me when you see Devon?"

Max scoffs. "I get to hug a pretty girl when her ex walks by. Who cares about the 'why' of it?"

Tammie smiles despite the uneasiness she is feeling. "I'd better get to class," she states. "I'll meet you here after and take you to the gym okay?"

"It's a date."

•••

"I acted like a complete dork!" Max exclaims as he paces in Martin's living room.

"Isn't that how you act all the time?" Martin jokes as he leans back on the couch.

"Ha ha," Max replies dryly. "This is serious, Martin. I can't act like a goofball around a girl that I like if I expect to get any play. She won't take me seriously!"

"But you are a goofball, Max," Martin laughs. "That's who you are. You're a funny guy, not this serious guy you've been trying to become since..." Martin reroutes the conversation. "Max, as long as I've known you you've been a joker, a prankster, a comedian. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Yeah, except that no one ever takes me seriously!" Max throws up his arms in frustration. "I've been holding myself back for a long time now, and today I was changing my accent, and imitating movie characters, and doing things so... juvenile."

"But that's you, Max!" Martin laughs, unsympathetic. "Me, I'm no good at jokes."

Max snaps his fingers. "That's it!"

"What's it?" Martin asks.

"Martin, teach me to be more like you," Max entreats his friend with clasped hands. "You're moody and quiet and girls think you're mysterious. They love you!"

Martin swells. "Well."

"Yeah, teach me how to ignore girls when they ask me to read between the lines, never laugh at any of their jokes, and be as serious as a manic-depressive English teacher reading Edgar Allen Poe."

"Hey!" Martin protests.

But Max isn't finished. "By the time you're done with me, I'll be a no-nonsense, impenetrable wall of masculine composure. Too cool to speak to the little people, I'll be a white version of your dad!"

"I beg your pardon?"

Martin snickers as his father's injured tone resonates behind Max.

Max starts from the sudden interruption and turns to face Martin's father. He smiles weakly at Mr. West before hiding behind the couch where Martin is seated.

"Hey Mr. West, Martin's dad who is _so_ not an impenetrable wall too cool to speak to the little people, but rather a lover of mercy and justice and truth who looks on me as one of his own sons that he would never kill, because he's so good humored and never holds grudges."

"Busted," Martin instigates.

"Max, stop hiding and get over here," Mr. West commands.

Max removes himself from his hiding spot and walks slowly to Mr. West, pushing his index fingers together and keeping his head low.

"Oh, knock it off," Mr. West protests Max's childish gestures. Max immediately straightens, puts his hands to his sides and smirks.

"Yes, sir. Um, may I call you Father?" Max speaks sweetly.

Mr. West raises his finger and wags it at Max, squinting his eyes as he speaks. "You..."

Max smiles sweetly in response. Mr. West sighs, rolls his eyes and grabs his briefcase from the table. "You two please behave," he throws the request to them on his way out.

Max exhales as soon as the front door closes. "Whew!"

"You are so lucky you're not his real son," Martin teases.

"But I am!" Max protests. "You, on the other hand," he points to Martin, "are adopted."

Martin scoffs. "I'm the adopted one?" Max nods and Martin laughs. "The albino kid is my father's real son, and I'm the adopted black one. Sure, whatever."

"Mhm, now back to Tammie," Max switches subjects.

Martin sits up from his lazy position on the couch. "Max, do you really like Tammie?" Max only nods, not trusting himself to do more. Martin sighs.

"My advice to you, since you can't be swayed, is to really get to know her and find out what's going on with her. Do that before you start," Martin put up his hands in air-quotes, "'making your move,' okay?"

Max eyes Martin suspiciously. "What do you know that you're not telling me?"

"Trust me, if I could tell you, you'd know," Martin assures him. "All I can tell you is that you should get to know her and be her friend, because friends are what she really needs right now."

"Thanks for the advice, Martin," Max sighs. "But you've got to give me more than that."

Martin shakes his head. "I'm staying out of it, Max."

Max rolls his eyes. "You're already in it, man! Besides, I'm supposed to be your best friend! If you can't trust me, then who can you trust?"

"It's not about trust, Max," Martin explains. "I'd be betraying a confidence if I told you."

Max pauses for a moment before speaking. "I may be overstepping, but if Tammie didn't tell you, that means someone else did. So, it's okay that Tammie's confidence was betrayed but not Jennifer's?"

"I didn't say it was Jen," Martin protests.

"Oh, come off it, man!" Max imitates Sherlock Holmes. "It's elementary, my friend! Who else besides Jennifer can get you to listen to a conversation long enough to know that it's private?"

"I don't think Tammie wants people to know," Martin hems.

"I'm not people," Max defends himself. "And I can keep a secret."

"Right," Martin scoffs.

"Okay, forget about the past," Max waves his hand in dismissal. "From here on out, I am a trustworthy, close-lipped, secret keeping, padlocked, airtight safe, okay? Now tell me what you know."

Martin looks uncertain, but Max knows he is breaking down.

"You can tell me, Martin," Max insists. "Besides, who else am I gonna tell? You're the only friend I have."

"I don't even know if it's really true," Martin shakes his head. "I mean, I'm pretty sure, but I have second-hand knowledge of it."

Max rolls his eyes. "It's not that hard, Martin. Don't make me guess." Martin gives him a defeated look, and Max lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Fine, you're gonna make me guess because you don't want to betray your precious Jen. Okay, I get it. Whatever."

"Aw, Max," Martin begins.

"No, no," Max dismisses him. "Don't try to spare my feelings now. You just dissed your bro for a-"

"Max," Martin sighs. "It's not that, it's about integrity. I can't go around spreading rumors and telling things spoken to me in confidence. I mean, what does it say about my integrity if I-"

"What if I guess?" Max interrupts. "Then, technically you wouldn't be spreading anything, I would simply be figuring it out by deductive reasoning."

Martin shakes his head. "Max, you can't just-"

"She's pregnant, right?" Max interrupts again. "That's gotta be it!" Max smiles at Martin, waiting for a response. Martin's shock betrays him and is soon replaced by an expression Max knows well.

Max stops smiling and stares at Martin. "I was only kidding, Martin. I mean, I was thinking of the worst possible thing that she could hide and I..." Max stops talking and looks at his feet, then back at Martin. "Seriously?" he asks.

Martin shrugs and nods.

"Wow," Max sighs. "Is it from her boyfriend?"

Martin looks at his friend, puzzled. "As far as I know, but why would you ask?"

"No reason, no reason," Max replies quietly. "Wow," he repeats. "Are you sure?"

Martin nods again.

"Wow," Max states a third time.

"Yeah," Martin agrees.

"I wasn't expecting that," Max admits. "I thought, you know, at worst Tammie might be clingy or OCD about eating on time. She doesn't seem like the type to be..."

"She isn't," Martin states. "She made a mistake, that's all. A big one, but nothing life-ending. Life altering, sure, but her life isn't over. She needs friends to help her see that. I didn't think so at first, but you could be one of those friends, Max. It's no coincidence that you're in her path. You have an opportunity here that Jennifer and I don't have. Tammie has let you in, as a friend. Don't take that lightly. You're entering her life at a crucial moment, and God may be using you to help her."

"I doubt that, Martin," Max scoffs. "I'm not really qualified to help anyone."

"That's not true," Martin protests. "Every time you go to the children's hospital and play with those kids, you're helping them. Every time you sacrifice your time without obligation you're helping someone. And every day you decide to go on with your life despite what you've been through, you're helping someone. You may not always see it, but it's true."

Max shakes his head. "Nah, Martin. I mean, I see what you're saying, but what about every time I fail, and every time I'm selfish, and every time I don't move on but stay in the same place? Aren't I hurting someone during those times? And trust me, if that's the case, I hurt more people than I help."

"Max," Martin begins.

Max raises his hand to stop him from speaking. "There's no need to tell me something that isn't true to make me feel better, Martin. I know what I am, I know what I've done, and I'm living with it the best I can. For now, let's just leave it at that okay?"

"Okay," Martin concedes. "For now, I'll let it go."

"Thank you," Max sighs. "I've got some stuff to think about, so I'm gonna head back to O.K's. Thanks for the company and the advice, Martin."

"You're welcome," Martin smiles. "Don't drive Mr. Kent too crazy, and tell him I said hi."

"Drive him crazy? Me?" Max points at himself and feigns surprise. "How could I possibly drive him crazy? Did I tell you he gave me his car?"

"He did? Wasn't your license revoked?" Martin asks.

Max rolls his eyes. "Suspended for three months, wise guy, and I guess he didn't give me the car so much as he's letting me use it."

"Hmm," Martin smiles and nods. "What kind of car is it?"

"The kind that runs," Max shrugs. "I drove it once so far, but only to the store."

"You aren't driving it everywhere?" Martin laughs. "That's definitely an improvement, Max. You used to take joy rides like I take jump shots."

Max shrugs. "Where am I gonna go that won't get me in trouble? School and here. That's it. And when I'm here you can take me home. That way, we preserve gas money for me and you get to help me out!"

"Yup," Martin agrees.

They enjoy a few minutes more of joking around before Max repeats his need to return to Mr. Kent's house.

Chapter Eight

Confessions

"So, Tammie, how are things?" Max hems. He sits down beside Tammie for lunch, all smiles. She smiles back, but does nothing more, and Max can't tell if she wants to continue a conversation.

"Things are okay I guess," Tammie replies before filling her mouth with salad, her least favorite food. "And how about you? Things okay?"

"Absolutely," Max assures her. He watches her for several minutes as she eats. Max stares at the copy of _The Grapes of Wrath_ he placed on the lunch table.

"So, Tammie, how far along are you?" he asks. Tammie stops eating abruptly and drops her fork.

"Excuse me?" her voice is so low Max can barely hear her.

Max realizes his flub. "In the book we're reading for English class. How far along are you?"

Tammie swallows hard and wrings her shaking hands. "Oh, I... I'm on chapter, um," Tammie stammers and tries to remember what chapter she read last.

"Hey, Tammie are you okay?" Max asks with concern. "You're shaking."

"Chapter five," Tammie finally blurts. "And I'm fine," she laughs weakly. "I'm just hungry. I missed breakfast."

"Oh," Max allows her to lie. He'd eaten breakfast with her that morning. She shared more than half of it with him, claiming she wasn't that hungry. "Make sure you don't miss any meals, Tammie. You've got to stay healthy, you know."

"Right!" Tammie tries to sound enthusiastic. She spots Devon out of the corner of her eye and takes an opportunity to display affection towards Max.

Tammie places her hand on top of Max's. "So long as you're here to keep me straight, I shouldn't have any problems!" Tammie looks in Devon's direction, but she can't tell if he's seen her, or if he'll start looking. He seems to be completely ignoring her.

Tammie slinks down into her seat, her appetite diminished by yet another wave of rejection. Max watches Tammie's demeanor shift and glances behind him. He spots Devon, then looks back at Tammie.

"Need a hug?" he asks.

Tammie nods and Max proceeds to make his way over to her side of the table. He gives her a long, comforting hug, and kisses her on the cheek before finally releasing her and returning to his seat.

"Thanks Max," Tammie smiles at him. "I really needed that."

"Anything for you, beautiful," Max grins.

Tammie laughs and then bursts into tears, leaving a very awkward Max speechless.

"I'm sorry," Tammie apologizes as she gets up from the table. She leaves the cafeteria so suddenly that it takes Max several moments to register her movements. When her departure finally sinks in, Max gets up and runs behind her.

Max finds her outside the school, near the marquee.

"Tammie?" he questions.

Tammie waves him away. "I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry."

"Something's wrong, Tammie," Max is determined to stay. "You can talk to me, you know."

Tammie shakes her head. She refuses to share her heart with anyone else. Never again will she share her secrets. Never.

Max is at a loss. He hasn't had much practice with comforting emotional people, particularly the female kind. "Tammie, whatever it is, it's not the end of the world," he places his hand on her back in an effort to comfort her. It doesn't seem to work, because her crying continues.

"Tammie," Max speaks firmly. "Stop crying like you're pregnant, and tell me what's wrong." Max knows the moment the words leave his mouth that he should not have spoken them. Tammie stares at him, horrified.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," Max apologizes. It had slipped out. How did that slip out?

Tammie is no longer crying, but the look on her face makes Max wish she'd start crying again. How could he be so insensitive?

"Tammie, I'm really sorry," Max apologizes again. "Please don't be so sad. Please?" Tammie doesn't respond.

"Hey, let's at least get out of the cold?" Max offers.

After a long pause, Tammie nods. She sniffs, and Max realizes she needs tissue. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

Tammie allows Max to guide her to the girls' room. He waits in the hall for her while she straightens herself up. When she finally enters the hallway, she is greeted by a large smile.

"That's much better," Max sighs. Tammie sighs too.

"Do you know?" she whispers.

Max's answer is written all over his face. "Know what?" he replies.

"Max," Tammie pleads.

Unable to lie, Max can only nod.

"How long have you known?" Tammie asks, trying hard not to let her voice catch.

"I just figured it out, Tammie," Max answers as honestly as he can. "It's not noticeable though, not physically."

Tammie nods. "So I guess this is it, then?" Tears brims in her eyes, and Max feels a tug on his heartstrings.

"What do you mean, 'this is it'?" Max asks.

"I mean this is it for us," Tammie stammers as she speaks. "This is the end of our friendship." Max shakes his head as Tammie speaks. "You won't be able to stomach my presence any more," she continues, "and you'll tell me you don't want anything to do with me."

"No, Tammie," Max would laugh if she wasn't so serious. "Why would I stop being your friend? That's ridiculous!"

"It must not be ridiculous if that's what everyone else has done!" Tammie hisses. "The people I just knew would be there for me abandoned me. Jennifer ostracized me, and Devon broke my heart." Max braces himself as Tammie erupts into another torrent of tears. He pulls her into an embrace, not knowing what else to do.

Max isn't familiar with the time schedules just yet, but he is fairly certain their lunch hour is over. "Come on, Tammie. We'd better head back to class, huh?"

Tammie shakes her head. "I just want to go home, Max."

"Okay, I'll take you home," Max doesn't know why he offered, but he can't take it back. O.K. will kill him if he finds out Max is skipping school, but this is an emergency, right?

That's what Max keeps telling himself the entire way to Tammie's house. It doesn't ease the anxiety in his stomach any more than it soothes his conscience. He is torn between supporting Tammie and keeping his record clean. Truancy is a minor offense compared to what he's done in the past, but it is an offense nonetheless.

"Max, what am I going to do?" Tammie stops walking and looks at him, desperate for answers he can't give.

"I wish I knew, Tammie," he holds her hand firmly. "But maybe we could pray for the answers?"

Tammie sniffs. "Does that work for you?" she asks.

Max shrugs. "It's worth a shot. You've got nothing to lose, right?"

Tammie nods. "Could you start it off?"

Max chuckles nervously. "Me? I'm hardly qualified. I think God hears his saints first, so you'd better start."

"Some saint I make," Tammie shakes her head. "I'm having my boyfriend's baby and I've been to church less than you have in the past three months. Your connection is probably stronger."

"Really, Tammie I don't think I can..." Max hems.

"Please?" Tammie looks up at him, pleading.

Max nods in consent and begins the prayer. "Okay, right. Now let's see. How do I start?" He clears his throat. "Dear heavenly God. Um, this is Max, which I'm sure, of course, you already know." Max stops and looks at Tammie, whose eyes are closed. He continues.

"Okay so we, me and Tammie, are here now asking you for some answers. I mean, we know you know everything already, but if you could just humor me while I fudge through this prayer. I know when I asked you to bring my mom back I was being selfish, but my prayers today are not for me, they are for Tammie. She needs you. She needs you to help her get through this tough time, and tell her what to do. She's got some hard decisions to make. I mean, mistakes were made on both sides, and she needs your understanding and your love. So, um, answer her please." Max pauses and looks at Tammie. "I think you should take it from here," Max whispers.

Tammie nods. "Jesus, please help me to make the right decisions," she prays. "And work on Devon's heart, because I love him, and I really want his support. So God, please give him a forgiving heart, and a loving heart, and an understanding heart so that he won't leave me raising my baby alone. I need a miracle, God. Please help me, and help Max too. Thank you for bringing him into my life when you did. He needs you, too. We pray in Jesus name. Amen."

"Amen," Max echoes. He squeezes Tammie's hand and they continue walking.

When Tammie and Max arrive at her house, Tammie's mother and grandmother are outside playing with her brothers and sister on the swing sets.

"Tammie!" her mother runs to her, anxious. Her grandmother eyes her curiously, but remains with the children.

"Tammie, what happened, what's wrong?" her mother asks with genuine concern.

"I just didn't feel well, and Max helped me home," Tammie squeezes Max's hand. Tammie's mother looks his way in surprise.

"Max?" she eyes him suspiciously. "And why aren't you in school, Max?" Tammie's mother says his name accusingly.

Max looks from Ms. McLeod to Tammie, unsure of what to say.

"Ma, I just told you he brought me home," Tammie sighs. Tammie's mother pulls her away quickly from Max, obviously upset.

"Listen you," Ms. McLeod begins. "I don't know who you are, but Tammie's a good girl. She's not interested in buying whatever you're selling, so you can just go now."

"Mom!" Tammie exclaims, mortified.

Her mother turns to her. "Baby why didn't you call me or grandma, or just let Devon take you home? You shouldn't be walking alone with strangers, honey."

"Mom, stop," Tammie is ashamed of her mother and eyes Max apologetically. "Max isn't a stranger, he's a friend."

"Well Devon is your boyfriend, Tammie, why didn't you call him?" her mother demands an answer.

Tammie bites her lip and looks at Max, unable to hide her humiliation. She finally runs to the house, leaving both Max and her mother alone in what becomes a very awkward silence.

After watching Tammie run into the house, Ms. McLeod turns and glares at Max.

"We're not down with any drugs in my house," she speaks proudly.

"Beg your pardon?" Max cocks his head in confusion. With lightning reflexes, Ms. McLeod grabs his arms and begins running her fingers along the inward sides of each.

Surprised, Max jumps back, defending his arms from her unwelcome intrusion. "Hey! What are you doing?" he exclaims.

"If you're snorting I can't tell, but at least you aren't shooting it up your veins," she states matter-of-factly.

"Shooting?" Max's confusion gives way to realization as she speaks. "Oh, no ma'am, I don't do drugs."

"Yeah, that's what all you little white boys say. Next thing we know you got our daughters selling their bodies for a hit. Well it ain't happenin' here, understand?" Ms. McLeod points her finger in the direction he came from.

Max understands the gesture, wishes her a good afternoon and asks her to say goodbye to Tammie for him. He walks away, dejected.

•••

"I'm so sorry, Max," Tammie apologizes over the phone.

"Who is this?"

Tammie pauses, realizing that it isn't Max on the other end. "This is Tammie, Mr. Kent. Is Max there?"

"He shouldn't be for another couple hours," Mr. Kent replies. "He's in school, Tammie. Are you at home?"

Tammie mentally kicks herself, hoping she hasn't gotten Max into trouble. He'll never speak to her again for sure if she has.

"Tammie? Are you still there?" Mr. Kent asks.

"Yeah, I left school early," she stammers. "I wasn't feeling well." Please leave it at that, she prays.

"Oh," Mr. Kent replies. "I hope you feel better soon. I've missed you at youth meetings. Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Tammie replies quickly. "Everything's fine."

"Okay, well, I'll relay that message for you," Mr. Kent speaks slowly into the phone. Tammie prays he will end the conversation. He doesn't.

"Tammie, can I ask you something?" he asks.

Tammie shakes her head no. "Of course," she hears herself reply.

"Why are you calling my house at twelve forty five in the afternoon looking for Max?" he asks. "School isn't out until three, so you calling doesn't really make any sense."

Tammie swears under her breath before replying. "You know, Mr. Kent, you're absolutely right. I mean, only a dummy would call before school was out, right? But, like I said before, I'm not feeling well, and I guess I thought it was after three, or Saturday, I don't know which. Sorry to bother you, bye!" Tammie hangs up before he can ask her anything else. Max probably won't be allowed to speak to her even if he wants to.

Tammie is about to swear again when she hears her mother knocking at the door.

"Tammie? We need to talk," she persists in her knocking until Tammie lets her in.

"Yes, mom?" Tammie rolls her eyes and sinks into her bed.

Ms. McLeod sweeps her hand along her silk skirt before speaking. "I wanna know who that boy was and how long you've been hanging out with him."

"Mom, I told you," Tammie sighs. "That was Max, a friend from school."

"A friend?" her mother questions.

"Yes!" Tammie blows out in frustration. "Just a friend."

"I see," Ms. McLeod responds. "And what does Devon think about you spending time with another guy? I mean, you can have guy friends, sure, but why would you want to when you have Devon? Why risk him... misinterpreting a friendship? Especially with a-"

"A what, mom?" Tammie raises her eyebrows and waits for her to finish. When she doesn't, Tammie finishes her sentence for her. "A white boy? Is that what you were going to say?"

"Well, yes!" her mother scoffs. "But, Tammie, honestly, a guy like him-"

"Mom, you don't even know him," Tammie groans. "And you don't know Devon either, for that matter, so don't you dare try to compare the two."

"What?" her mother speaks in an injured tone. "Now all of a sudden you don't like Devon?"

Tammie shakes her head defiantly.

"What, is this other boy rich?" her mother asks. "Does he buy you things that Devon can't, because his mother is a single parent, just like me? Tammie I promise you if you're running out on Devon over materialistic things-"

"He ran out on me, Mom!" Tammie blurts, louder than she means to. Tammie's mother gasps.

"I'm sorry," Tammie speaks in a softer tone.

Her mother nods sympathetically and goes to hold her. "Oh, honey, when did this happen?"

"A couple weeks ago," Tammie sniffs, her tears returning with a vengeance.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," she speaks softly. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asks.

"I just didn't want to bother you with it," Tammie stammers.

Her mother tsks. "Devon was your first boyfriend, baby, and you never forget your first. How you must feel..." Her mother sighs. "You wanna talk about it?" she asks.

Tammie shakes her head. "No, I just want to be alone."

"Now I know that's the _last_ thing you want," her mother states wisely. "But, I will give you some space. Let me know when you're ready to talk, okay?"

Tammie nods in consent. "Mom?"

"Yes, baby?" Her mother gives her a hopeful look.

"Could you not tell grandma?" Tammie asks. "At least, not yet."

Her mother nods knowingly and smiles before leaving Tammie alone.

Her mother will be so disappointed in her if she finds out she's pregnant; her grandmother is another subject entirely. She is extremely fond of Devon, and besides she has high hopes for Tammie. Hopes that include breaking the family tradition of pregnancy out of wedlock.

Tammie can't bear the thought of letting either of them down. Besides, her mother already has enough on her plate. She has to somehow get Devon back, so they can both take care of the baby. She can't burden her mother any more. Tammie lets out a sigh just as the phone rings.
Chapter Nine

Mistakes

Tammie watches Devon with nervous tension as he pulls his car into her gravel driveway. The rocks make a crunching sound under his wheels, matching the crunching in her stomach.

Devon finally called today after ignoring dozens of her messages. He asked her to meet him at her house later in the afternoon. For what, he didn't say, so Tammie isn't sure what to expect when he arrives.

Tammie watches anxiously as his car door swings open lazily, revealing a perfectly pressed pants leg. The leg removes itself from the car, followed by its twin, and both make their way to Tammie.

Devon walks her way with a powerful and confident stride. Tammie forces her eyes beyond his legs, up to his chest, and finally rests them on his face. His deep chocolate skin makes her knees weak. He is one fine brother.

"Tammie, let's talk," Devon speaks so softly his words hum like sweet music, surrounding her with warmth and beauty.

"Okay," she replies, less musical, but just as softly. It is important for her tone to match his. After not speaking to him for so long she doesn't want him to run off again. Not now when she needs him.

He coaxes her forward, extending his left hand out to her. She slowly, cautiously, takes it, gradually pulled in by the hope she feels, the hope that is now emanating from Devon's eyes.

"Baby girl, I'm sorry for what I said before," he pulls her in closer. She doesn't resist, but drinks in the smell of his cologne. She needs him close.

"I know you would never cheat on me," Devon continues. "It was stupid for me to say it. I was just scared, you know?"

Tammie nods as tears of relief drop down her face.

"I love you, Tammie. I really do. And I'm here for you, ok? We'll get through this."

Tammie smiles and lets out a sigh, releasing all her anxiety in one breath. "Really?"

Devon nods. His arms, strong and secure, wrap around her, soothing away her every worry.

"I thought it was over between us," she cries into his shirt. Devon kisses her forehead and rocks her back and forth. "No, it's not over, Tammie. Far from it."

Tammie sniffs and allows herself to look at him.

"Do you forgive me?"

His deep voice melts her resolve, and Tammie can only nod in response. Devon kisses her softly on the lips. Tammie returns the gesture, hesitant at first, then passionately, allowing herself to become lost in Devon. Why not? She is lost without him.

"Come with me," Devon guides her to his car. Tammie nods willingly and gets into the car. She welcomes whatever might happen next.

•••

Max walks into Mr. Kent's house, carefree and smiling big as he saunters past the big man's always serious form.

"Afternoon, officer," Max grins and salutes.

"Max, did you skip school today?" Mr. Kent minces no words.

Max halts at the question, stumbling over his feet.

"Uh, well I," Max fumbles over his words, tempted to lie, yet convinced it would be futile. "Why would you ask that?" Max doesn't dare look at Mr. Kent directly.

"Oh, just a hunch," Mr. Kent moves toward Max casually, stopping only inches from where Max stands. "Am I right?"

Max shakes his head. "Wouldn't that be silly? I mean, why would I?" Max continues to avert his gaze.

"Hmph," Mr. Kent leans forward so his eyes are level with Max's. "Two options, Max. Tell me the truth, and you might get a lesser punishment. Continue to lie, and you'll get the max. Your choice."

"I'm not lying, per se," Max backpedals. "I'm just observing the absolutely ridiculous nature of the actions you are accusing me of."

Mr. Kent narrows his eyes, unflinching. Max feels his cheeks burning under his dauntless stare. He finally cracks.

"Ok, I admit it. I skipped, but it wasn't because I wanted to."

Mr. Kent's silence makes Max nervous. He continues anxiously. "A friend of mine got sick, and she wasn't in a position to call anyone, and I didn't want her going home alone, so I took her home."

"She?" Mr. Kent raises his eyebrows.

Max grimaces. "Okay, I know how that sounds, but I swear it's not what you're thinking. I took her home, that's it. I didn't even go inside. Her mom was there, and she wouldn't let me."

Max risks a short look at Mr. Kent to see if he believes any of what he's just said. It isn't necessary.

"I believe you," Mr. Kent states simply.

Max eyes him warily. "You do?"

"Sure," Mr. Kent smiles. "You're grounded the rest of the week, and if you skip school again I'll have to tell your father."

"You're not going to tell him about this?" Max is surprised.

Mr. Kent shrugs. "As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing to tell, so long as it doesn't happen again?" Mr. Kent waits for Max.

"Oh, it won't, I swear," Max affirms. He gives Mr. Kent a look of admiration. "Thank you, Mr. Kent. I really don't want my dad to worry about me, not right now."

"You've got a lot to deal with yourself, Max," Mr. Kent shakes his head. "I'm just trying to help. And I don't want you to feel the need to lie to me. I'm not your enemy."

"I know," Max speaks apologetically. "It's a hard habit to kick, though. My default response has always been to lie, or sidestep at least."

"I understand, Max," Mr. Kent reassures him."But if you're honest with me, I won't be unreasonable, and I won't demand more from you than you can give. That's a promise."

Max nods in consent.

"But, Max, next time, call Tammie's mother, okay?"

Max nods and heads off to his room. Halfway down the hall, Max wonders how he knew it was Tammie.

•••

Max calls out to Tammie and waves her over to him in the hallway.

Tammie smiles in reply and walks his way. "Good morning Max!" Tammie chirps.

Max raises his eyebrows and matches her pitch. "Good morning! You seem to be in very high spirits today."

Tammie couldn't stop smiling if she tried. "That's because something really great happened to me yesterday!"

"Do tell," Max smirks.

Tammie grabs his arm and pulls him to the side. "Devon called me up and met with me yesterday afternoon."

Max doesn't like where the conversation is headed, but says nothing.

"He apologized to me for the way he treated me, and promised to help me from now on," Tammie's eyes begin to tear. "And he told me he loved me and that he'd never leave me again. So now we're back together. Isn't this great, Max?"

"Uh," Max begins, but Tammie cuts him short.

"I mean, this is what we prayed for, right?" Tammie sniffs and wipes the tears from her eyes. "We prayed for God to work on Devon's heart and he did! We prayed for a miracle to happen and it has! Isn't this wonderful, Max?"

Max remains unresponsive as Tammie gushes on and on about Devon. Tammie calms down long enough to notice Max's lack of enthusiasm. "Max? Is there something wrong?"

Max stays quiet, contemplating his options. Should he tell her what he really thinks or what she wants to hear? He decides on both. "Tammie, I'm happy for you. It's good to see that you're happy."

"I am very happy," Tammie nods.

Max continues. "And I'm also glad that Devon has contacted you and promised to help." Max sighs and Tammie frowns.

"But?" Tammie watches him.

"Ah, I don't know how to explain it, Tammie," Max turns away slightly, hesitant to continue.

"Then just say it, Max," Tammie pulls him back to her. "If I can trust anyone, I know I can trust you, Max. So just tell me what you're thinking. I value your opinion, and I need to know."

"Ah, Tammie I'm a goofball," Max shakes his head.

"But you're an honest one, and I want to know," Tammie is adamant.

Max sighs again. "I have a really bad feeling about Devon. I don't think you can trust him, at least not entirely."

Tammie is quiet a long time before speaking. "Maybe Devon and I are taking things too fast, and we need to slow down a little." Tammie looks at Max. "But Max, I love Devon. What am I going to do?"

"I could be wrong, Tammie, but taking things slowly would probably be best."

Tammie silently nods, battling fiercely to hold back her tears. "I'd better get to class," she whispers.

"Ok," Max squeezes her hand. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Tammie nods and waves goodbye as she walks away.

•••

"Tams, what are you doing tonight?" Devon asks Tammie as they walk to his car.

Tammie smiles at him. "Oh, I don't know. What are you doing?"

Devon shrugs. "Well, that depends on what you want to do, Tams." He takes her hand and brings it up for a kiss.

Tammie sighs. Everything is going to be okay, she tells herself. Devon is with her now, and everything is going to be okay.

"So, do you want to come over?" Devon asks with a grin.

Tammie shrugs coyly. "Perhaps," she replies.

Devon pulls her into an embrace, bringing her ear close to his lips. "Just perhaps?" he whispers.

Tammie shivers. "Ah, definitely."

"Definitely, yes?" Devon smiles and begins tickling her sides.

Tammie can only laugh and nod.

"Let's go then," he guides her to his car.

When they arrive at Devon's house, his mother is just leaving. Devon's mother waves at them before pulling out of the driveway so they can get in, reminding Devon to eat the dinner she left for him in the microwave and encouraging both him and Tammie to study hard.

Tammie observes the proud look on his mother's face as she lingers to stress the importance of good grades and how they're his ticket to getting into law school. Devon is his mother's pride and joy. Tammie sighs as his mother finally drives off.

Devon brings Tammie into the house, and they sit on the couch. He scoops up her hands, massaging them softly as he speaks. "Baby girl, we need to talk."

Tammie nods and feels her stomach tighten into knots. "I know."

"Here's the thing," Devon begins. "I need to know where we stand and what we're going to do about the baby. Have you considered alternatives?"

"You mean, abortion?"

Devon nods. "I know it's a painful topic to bring up, and if it's not something you are willing to do, you can just say so. I just want to make sure we go over all of our options."

Tammie shakes her head. "I don't know about that, Devon. I never really expected myself to be in this situation, so I've never given it much thought. I always thought when I became pregnant, I'd be married, so of course I'd want the baby. I just... I don't know."

"Take all the time you need and find out," Devon consoles her. "But I don't want us to wait until the baby is here before we try to decide on anything."

Tammie nods in agreement. "Okay, I'll think it over."

"Whatever you decide, I'm with you, Tammie," Devon squeezes her close to him and caresses her back. He kisses her on her neck, then her lips, and before Tammie knows it, they are in his bedroom.

Chapter Ten

Bad Decisions

"Tammie!" Max shouts her name in the hallway. It's become their regular meeting place.

Tammie turns and smiles. Max practically skips to her side, scooping her up in an affectionate hug.

"Max," Tammie looks around, embarrassed at the sudden display of affection. Max sets her down apologetically, recognizing her discomfort.

"Sorry," he says sheepishly. "I just missed you yesterday. You bolted on me before I could tell you I was grounded."

"Grounded?" Tammie looks at him, surprised. "What for?"

"Skipping school," Max states simply. "Apparently, I got caught. I don't know how yet, but between Mr. Kent's expertise as an officer of the law and my troublesome gift for looking guilty, I was busted as soon as I walked through the door."

Tammie remembers her blunder and frowns. "Max, I am so sorry," she says emphatically.

Max shrugs. "It's okay, Tammie. It's not that big a deal."

Tammie shakes her head. "No, you don't understand. I called you about a half hour after you left. Mr. Kent picked up the phone, and I wasn't thinking that he'd figure out that you weren't at school. I'm so sorry, Max, it's all my fault."

Max raises his eyebrows. "Hmm, that would explain why he asked me flat out if I skipped school the minute I got in. I couldn't lie to him, but I didn't feel comfortable talking to him about you, either."

Tammie bites her lip. "How long are you grounded for?"

Max laughs. "Well it's definitely not for life; just the rest of the week, Tammie. Don't worry about it."

"I'm so stupid," Tammie frowns. "And there I was yesterday going on and on about me and Devon, never once thinking about how things went for you."

"I understand," Max reassures her. "You were excited. And besides, you have more important things to take care of than me." Max glances at her stomach, which is taking on a more rounded shape.

"Yeah," Tammie begins to tear. "Yesterday, Devon and I were talking about," Tammie glances around to see if anyone is nearby, "we talked about the baby."

"What did you two talk about?" Max asks, leaning on the wall as they speak.

"What to do with the baby," she replies. "I told him I need time to think."

Max nods, furrowing his brow in thought.

"Tammie?" he speaks hesitantly. Tammie responds with a quiet glance.

"Have you been to a doctor?" Max asks. "I mean, I don't know much about babies, but I know there are a lot of hospital visits involved."

Tammie isn't expecting his question. "Well, I... no. I mean, won't they tell my parents if I'm pregnant?"

Max shakes his head. "I don't think so, at least not without your permission. Besides, I think you should tell your mom anyway."

Tammie immediately shakes her head. "No way!"

"Tammie," Max protests.

"No, Max!" Tammie hisses. "I can't do that! You don't know what it would do to my mother if she found out I was... I just can't, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Max places his hand on hers to calm her. "But still, you should see a doctor. You're pretty pregnant already, right?"

"What?" Tammie is momentarily confused. "Oh, I think I'm ten or twelve weeks."

"Okay, so three months, roughly," Max calculates. "By three months your baby should already be in fetus form, reproductive organs will be visible, and he, or she, should be about the size of your middle finger."

Tammie gives him a surprised look. "I thought you didn't know much about this stuff."

Max shrugs. "I guess I've picked up some things at the children's hospital. But seriously Tammie, there are medicines and vitamins you should be taking to make sure your baby is healthy."

Tammie shakes her head. "Max, I don't even know if I'm going to have this baby."

"Oh," Max pauses. "I didn't realize you were considering abortion."

"I'm considering everything, Max," Tammie sighs, exasperated. "I have no idea how I'm going to take care of a baby."

"I understand," Max speaks softly. "I'm sorry, but I just assumed abortion wouldn't be an option for you."

"Why, because I'm a Christian?" Tammie scoffs.

"Well, yeah," Max answers honestly.

"Would a Christian have gotten pregnant out of wedlock, too?" Tammie speaks with an edge of sarcasm. "I got pregnant, Max. You have no idea what that means in my world."

Max shakes his head. "You're right, I don't, Tammie. I do know, however, that making a mistake, even a big one like getting pregnant, doesn't mean that you're not a Christian anymore. It doesn't mean that God doesn't love you anymore, or that you're worth less than anybody else. It just means that you made a mistake, same as every other human being on the planet."

Tammie shakes her head. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Max shrugs. "Maybe not. I'm sorry I upset you, Tammie, but I have to ask. Do you really think abortion is an option for you?"

Tammie looks at Max, expecting to find some degree of judgment in his deep blue eyes. She finds none; instead she sees caring, and compassion. Tammie shakes her head.

"No, I don't see myself doing that to my baby. It's not the baby's fault I messed up. It's mine."

Max grabs her chin gently. "In that case, maybe you should look at other options? At the very least see a doctor and start taking better care of yourself. You're way too skinny."

Tammie snorts. "Your sarcasm knows no bounds, Max."

Max gives her a confused look.

"Too skinny is nowhere near a definition for me," Tammie continues.

"Tammie, what are you talking about?" Max shakes his head. "You've lost a lot of weight, and you should be gaining."

"I'm not even close to my target weight," Tammie protests.

"What is your target weight, Tammie?" Max laughs. "You can't be more than 120 pounds."

"Last time I checked, I was 140," Tammie grimaces. "A fat blob, for sure."

Max shakes his head. "I'll never understand you girls and your weight issues. You looked fine to me before, and you look okay to me now, except for the, you know, bony protrusions."

"What bony protrusions?" Tammie frowns.

"In your face," Max treads lightly. "You've lost some of the softness in your face."

"I have?" Tammie touches her face. "Max, do you think people can tell I'm pregnant?"

Max shakes his head. "No, but anyone who pays attention long enough can tell you're hurting. Promise me you'll go to the doctor, Tammie? Please?"

Tammie nods. "I promise, Maxie."

Max smiles at the nickname and gives her another hug before they head their separate ways.

•••

"Hey, Tams," Devon greets Tammie with a brief kiss after school. Tammie smiles at him and returns his greeting with a hug.

"Hey babe," she speaks softly in his ear.

"Walk with me a moment?" Devon asks quietly, holding out his hand. Tammie nods and accepts his outstretched hand. They make their way to the student parking lot until they reach Devon's car. Devon leans against the door, watching Tammie carefully. Tammie smiles nervously at him.

"So are you going to tell me what this is about, or are you going to stare me to death?" Tammie jokes.

Devon frowns. "Tammie, let me start by telling you that what I'm about to say may make me sound like a jealous boyfriend. If it sounds like that I'm sorry, but the truth is, I am a jealous boyfriend."

"Okay," Tammie says tentatively.

"A friend of mine saw you with some white guy, and he said you were crying all over him. Now, I want to know who this guy is, and why you were with him." Devon is looking at the ground, and not at Tammie.

"Wow," Tammie's temper flares. She doesn't appreciate being spied on. "You mind telling me who this friend is?" Tammie's lip forms a tight line.

"That's not the issue here, Tammie," Devon waves her question away. "You and I have been on very shaky ground, and I don't want to find out that you've been playing me."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Tammie is livid. "Not two days ago you told me you knew I'd never cheat on you. Now you're asking me if I'm playing you? Where is this coming from?"

"Tammie, calm down," Devon shakes his head. "Listen, just answer the questions, ok? I'm not accusing you of anything, I just need to know. For my own peace of mind."

Tammie sighs. "Max is a friend from church. He just moved, so he's going to Wellis now. We've been helping each other out with our transitions. He's just a friend, Devon."

"You're sure?" Devon presses. "Because I saw you hanging with him a lot when we weren't together. I saw you with him so much I began to wonder if you missed me at all. That's why it took me so long to call."

"Devon, please," Tammie rolls her eyes. "Max is just a friend."

"Well, okay," Devon clears his throat. "So what were you and your 'friend' talking about?"

"That's something I did want to talk to you about," Tammie grabs his hands. "Devon, about the baby-"

"What about the baby?" Devon asks defensively.

"Are you sure you're willing to stick by me no matter what happens?" Tammie watches him.

"Of course!" Devon replies without hesitating. "Why would I be here if I wasn't sure? Aren't you sure you're willing to stick by me?"

"Yes, of course," Tammie speaks, exasperated. "It's just that Max and I were talking, and he made me realize that we're moving too fast. This is a really big commitment."

"You and Max?" Devon looks at her cautiously. "Does Max know about the baby?"

Tammie is quiet. She nods yes.

"And he's concerned about you and the baby?" Devon scoffs.

"He cares about what happens to me, yes," Tammie replies.

"Tell you what, Tammie," Devon lifts himself off the car and opens the door. "Why don't you and Max go figure out how to get through the rest of your lives, and you can call me when you two come up with a plan." Devon gets in, starts the car and puts it in gear.

"Devon!" Tammie rolls her eyes. "Devon, it's not like that at all. Max and I are just friends."

"No guy just wants to be friends with a girl, Tammie," Devon shakes his head.

Tammie places her hand on his shoulder. The muscles around his neck are tense. "Devon, turn the car off and listen."

Devon frowns, but he puts the car back in park and turns toward Tammie.

"Max is not more important to me than you are. He was there when I needed someone to talk to, but that's it."

"Then why not come to me?" Devon whines.

"I just..." Tammie shakes her head. "I just got you back, Devon. You said so yourself, we're on shaky ground. I wasn't comfortable with coming to you for a long time, and we just got back together. I promise, I will come to you with my problems from now on, though, if that's what you want. Whatever it takes."

Devon looks down in thought. "Tammie, I don't like you seeing other guys."

"Max and I aren't seeing each other, Devon," Tammie explains.

"Even so," Devon shakes his head. "I can't stand to lose you, Tammie. I'm sorry I'm so jealous, but if this is going to work, you've got to respect my feelings on this."

"You're right, and I'm sorry," Tammie concedes. "From now on, I won't hang out with Max, and you will stop this jealous boyfriend nonsense. Deal?"

Devon looks at Tammie and smiles. "Deal."

"So, are we okay?" Tammie asks.

"Come to my house and I'll show you," Devon smiles and gets out of his car to open the passenger door for Tammie. Once she is inside, he goes back to his seat and drives off.

•••

When Tammie arrives home late that evening, her mother is sitting in the living room. As soon as she sees Tammie, she rises and marches towards her.

"Where have you been?" her mother asks accusingly.

Tammie feels her blood rise. "What do you mean?"

"Little girl, you see what time it is?" If it were possible, smoke would come out of her mother's ears. "What could possibly be keeping you out until this time of night?"

"I'm sorry, mom, I lost track of time, okay?" Tammie huffs and heads to her room.

"Oh, no, not so fast," her mother grabs her arm. "You're going to tell me right now what you've been up to. Is it that little white boy I saw you with a few days ago? Hm? Answer me, Tammie! You tell me if you're using!"

"Using?" Tammie gawks at her mother's accusation. "Mom, are you out of your mind? No, I'm not using!" Tammie rolls her eyes. "I was with Devon."

"Devon?" her mother is puzzled.

Tammie freezes, realizing her mistake. She tries to sound normal as she makes up an excuse. "Yes, Devon and I decided to get back together. We were talking and we lost track of time, mama."

Her mother blows out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God. So you and Devon are back together, huh? Baby, that's great!"

Tammie smiles nervously. "Yeah, it is."

Her mother laughs. "And here I was thinking you'd run off with that little boy and were shooting up or snorting or whatever it is these young kids do nowadays. Thank God I raised you with more sense than that."

"Mama," Tammie protests her description of Max. "Don't talk about my friend that way; he doesn't use drugs."

Her mother waves the thought away. "Okay, whatever you say, honey. I'm just glad to know you were with Devon and not with him. And why didn't you tell me you two are back together? You know your grandma has been asking about him, and I didn't know what to tell her."

"You can tell her he'll be here tomorrow for dinner, that'll keep her busy and out of your hair," Tammie suggests.

"Sounds good to me," her mother laughs. "And I'm sorry if I was out of place earlier. I just don't like seeing you around young boys who have nothing better to do than drag a black woman down."

"Mama," Tammie protests again.

"I know, I know," her mother waves. "Your friend's not like that. Invite him over for dinner, then, so I can apologize."

"To him?" Tammie asks. "For what?"

Ms. McLeod smiles sheepishly. "Well, let's just say I gave him the tiniest bit of a shakedown."

"You did what?" Tammie is mortified. "Mom, you didn't..."

"Like I said, invite him to dinner and I'll apologize," she replies dismissively.

Tammie shakes her head. "It's a wonder I have any friends at all," she mumbles.
Chapter Eleven

Lovers & Friends

"Anything new regarding your love life?" Martin asks sardonically as he dribbles his basketball down the street.

"No," Max responds, following slowly behind him.

Martin stops walking and lets Max catch up. "What's with you?"

Max shakes his head. "I had a dream about Tammie."

Martin stops dribbling and chuckles. "A little obsessed, are we?"

"Funny," Max replies blandly. "I've been having the same dream over and over the past few days. I keep getting the sense that it's more than a dream, you know?"

"What'd you have for dinner last night?" Martin jokes.

Max rolls his eyes. "Be serious. What if it is more than a dream? Tammie could be in trouble. Maybe it's some sort of divine intervention to keep her from being hurt?"

"Maybe," Martin agrees. "You should talk to O.K. about it. I don't know anything about visions."

"Or maybe they're just the unreliable musings of a former drunk," Max states glumly.

"Don't be such a girl," Martin chides him. "If you're having these dreams sober, there must be something to them. Maybe you are meant to help Tammie in some way. And who knows? Maybe someday your dreams will help me, too."

Max waves the idea away. "Or maybe I just have a huge crush on Tammie, and it's no more than wishful thinking."

"Yeah, there is that," Martin laughs.

"I asked Tammie yesterday how things are going with her and Devon," Max adds. "She said everything's great between them, so I guess I'd better butt out."

"You coming to the game tonight?" Martin changes the subject.

"You know I am," Max smiles. As he continues down the street with Martin, Max hopes that his dreams don't mean anything. Otherwise, Tammie is about to get her heart broken.

•••

"Tammie, you know I love you, right?" Devon strokes her hand as he speaks. His mouth is close to her ear, so close she can barely think straight. They are at his house again. His mother is pulling a double, and won't be back until late the next morning.

"I know you, do, Devon, and I love you too," Tammie replies.

"And you also know how sorry I am for everything I put you through. You know that, right?" Devon asks with raised eyes. Remorse is etched in his every feature. Tammie knows he is being sincere.

"Baby, let's put that behind us," she comforts him with a kiss on his cheek. "We have our whole lives ahead of us now. Together." She smiles, confident that he will never leave her again.

Devon hesitates, then looks away. He has a pained expression on his face, and Tammie knows something is wrong. "What is it, Devon?" she asks.

"Tammie, I hate to bring it up again, I just don't want to make things harder for you than they already are."

"It's okay," Tammie assures him. "You can talk to me about anything."

Devon pauses before speaking. "It's just, I've been wondering if you've decided what you," he corrects himself, "what _we_ are gonna do about the baby."

Tammie is perplexed. "I um, I don't know," she stammers. "I just assumed we'd raise our baby together."

"Of course," Devon states quickly. "I'm with you on whatever decision you make. It's just that we haven't discussed it, and I don't know what preparations to make. I asked you if abortion was an option, and you said you didn't know, but that was almost a week ago." He looks at Tammie, soft but stern.

"Listen, neither one of us likes the idea of terminating this pregnancy, but we have to look at it from all angles. I mean, we have our whole lives to decide to have kids, and I'm all for it, but right now we can't afford a baby."

"You said we could get through this no matter what," Tammie speaks softly.

Devon caresses her hand. "And I meant it, Tammie. Like I said before, I am with you no matter what. But you and I don't know the first thing about taking care of a kid."

"I happen to know a lot," Tammie states defensively. "I practically raised my brothers and sisters."

"Yeah, but whose money did you use?" Devon asks. Tammie is quiet, and he continues. "Tams, we don't have any money. We don't have jobs, we both live with a single parent who's already financially stretched. We're still in high school, for God's sake. Our lives are just beginning, and to start off with a baby would make things so hard for you, and for me too."

"We belong together, Tammie, but we have to make a decision that will be the best for both of us. For the sake of our future together we have to weigh all our options. And we can't be selfish. Imagine what it would do to your mother if she found out you were pregnant? How much harder would she have to work to feed another mouth?"

"Imagine my mother – she'd be crushed. And for what? For us to prove a point? What point would we be proving by having this baby? The only thing we'd be proving is that the statistics are right, and I know the last thing you want to become is your mother. You don't want to be that, and I don't want you to be that either."

"I hear what you're saying, Devon, but it's not that simple," Tammie's eyes are moist with tears.

Devon softens his tone. "I know baby, I know this is hard on you. And I would never ask you to do anything you didn't feel was the right choice. Never. All I'm asking is that we make a decision before it's too late."

Tammie nods. "I know, and I talked it over with Max, and he helped me see that going through an abortion would go against everything I stand for as a Christian."

Devon's loving glance becomes an icy stare. "Max?"

Tammie doesn't notice the change in his expression. "Devon, deep down I know I care too much about life to take away our baby's opportunity to live."

"You discussed this with Max before discussing it with me?" Devon's tone is indignant. Tammie looks up at Devon, her expression apologetic.

"Devon, it's not what you think."

"You've been seeing him behind my back, haven't you?" Devon accuses her. He distances himself from her, releasing her hand.

"What? No," Tammie shakes her head. "This is from before you asked me not to see him, Devon."

"So you stopped seeing him?" Devon waits for her to answer.

Tammie pauses. She can't lie to him. "Devon, he does attend Wellis. I can't help but see him, and he's been a good friend who gives good advice.

"Better advice than me?" Devon frowns and looks away.

"Devon," Tammie pleads for his understanding.

"Are you sleeping with him too?" Devon refuses to look at her.

"Devon!" Tammie shakes her head. "You know I would never-"

"Well now I don't know, Tammie," Devon's voice is full of emotion. "You seem to be more willing to take his advice than mine, and I'm the one fathering this child. Why is it that _his_ opinion has more weight than mine, Tammie? Am I the father, or is he?"

"Devon stop it," Tammie speaks forcefully at first, then more calmly. "You know that I love you, and you know I would never betray you."

Devon bites his lip, and looks at Tammie. Tears stream down his face as he speaks. "I'm sorry Tams. I just... I love you so much. And when I think of you I see so many possibilities for us. I know you love me, but I can't share you, even a little, especially with some guy..."

Devon shakes his head. "Look, I'm scared, okay? Tammie, I'm terrified that having this baby will be the worst mistake of our lives. I mean what if something happens to you? I can't lose you." Emotion chokes his words, and Tammie caresses his face, wiping his tears away.

"I love you, Tammie," Devon speaks passionately in her ear.

"I love you too," Tammie replies. They begin kissing, softly at first, then more passionately until both are certain where things are headed.

•••

Tammie lay next to Devon, caressing his head as he sleeps. One thing has become very clear to her. She will do anything to keep him. She kisses him on his forehead and he stirs. He gazes up at her adoringly and smiles.

She smiles back at him. Her heart is racing, but she knows she's made up her mind. "Devon?"

"Yes, Tammie?" Devon turns his head to give her his attention.

"I've decided about the baby," she says slowly.

Devon waits quietly.

"I'm going to have the abortion," she whispers.

Devon blinks and nods. "Are you sure?" he asks.

Tammie nods. "I'm sure."

Devon looks away in thought. When he turns towards her again he smiles.

"Stay with me tonight?" he asks. Tammie nods and finds herself being wrapped in Devon's strong arms.

"We'll go to the clinic tomorrow morning. I'll take you. Don't worry. I'll take care of everything."

Tammie's heart races. She hadn't expected to do it so soon. "Tomorrow?" she asks, hesitant.

"There's no time to waste," Devon squeezes her tight. "I love you, Tammie."

Tammie moves her head away from Devon so he won't see her tears. "I love you too."

•••

The next morning, Tammie is extremely anxious. The entire way there, Devon has to keep asking her if she is alright. She finally answers that she is not.

"Devon, we need to turn around," she pulls on his sleeve as she speaks.

Devon glances her way, concerned, but obviously agitated as well. "What's wrong, baby?"

Tammie shakes her head. "I can't. I just... I can't do this right now. It's too soon."

Devon tries to soothe her. "Tammie, everything's going to be okay. I promise. Just sit back and relax, okay?"

Tammie shakes her head emphatically. "No, Devon. Not today, okay? It's too soon, and I'm not ready."

Devon is visibly agitated. "Too soon? Tammie, you've already waited a long time to make this decision. I don't think putting it off another day is going to help. Another day is going to lead to another, then another."

"I promise it won't be like that," Tammie assures him. "Just not today, okay? Please?"

Devon looks unconvinced, but he nods and turns the car around.

"So what now?" he asks.

"Could you just take me home?" she asks. He rolls his eyes and turns on the radio. Tammie wills herself to breathe normally. Devon is upset, and understandably, but this is her body. She can't go through with it unless she's emotionally ready. He has to understand that. She watches him carefully the rest of the way to her house. When they arrive, Devon gets out of the car to open her door.

Tammie smiles weakly. "I'll call you, okay?"

"Whatever," Devon shrugs and gets back into the car.

Tammie walks into her house slowly. She looks around, but no one is home. Relieved, she runs to her bedroom. As soon as she opens her door, she is accosted by her mother.

"Mom!" Tammie cries out in surprise.

Her mother looks at her curiously. "Is there something you want to tell me, Tammie?"

Tammie shakes her head. "I fell asleep, that's all."

Her mother nods quietly and leaves her room. Tammie watches her as she makes her way into the living room, grabbing her purse and keys from the kitchen table.

"I have to go to work," she speaks softly.

Tammie nods and watches her mother head to the door.

Her mother turns back to look at her before leaving. "Tammie?"

"Yes, mom?" she looks at her anxiously.

Her mother is quiet a long time before speaking. "I like Devon, but maybe you two should slow things down a little?"

Tammie nods. "Ok."

Her mother nods, hesitant, and then leaves.

Tammie hates lying to her mother. It isn't like her. But her mother has been far from the best example, so what right does she have to tell Tammie how fast or slow to go with Devon? As far back as Tammie can remember, her mother's idea of taking things slow was never to allow a man to move in before the third date. Still, she feels... dirty. Her mother's words of caution are unnerving.

Tammie shakes herself. She has to get it together, especially if she wants to stay with Devon. She hopes he doesn't think she was lying when she spoke with him earlier. He was obviously furious with her when he left. If she can lie about something as serious as having an abortion, how can Devon trust her to be truthful about anything else?

It's Saturday. Tammie wonders where her siblings and grandmother are. Probably on a day trip, or choir rehearsal. She could call Devon and see if he might come over. Tammie calls his cell phone, hoping to reach him before he gets too far away, but she only gets his voicemail.

Tammie bites her lip, realizing that she doesn't want to be alone. The idea of being the only person in a house that's rarely empty and never quiet is depressing. She calls Devon's cell again, but there's still no answer. Tammie wanders into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich, pretending the lump in her throat doesn't affect her. When she sits down to eat, she calls Devon again. No answer.

Tammie finishes her sandwich. It goes down dry, even with a glass of orange juice. Tammie had struggled between choosing orange juice or orange soda for at least ten minutes before finally deciding on the juice. Max would be proud if he saw her making such healthy choices.

Tammie hits her redial button. A stray tear slips onto her hand as the phone rings. The sound of Devon's automated voice is becoming annoying. Why isn't he picking up? He has a bluetooth, so she knows he hears it ringing. He has to!

Tammie sits down on the couch and turns on the television. This is insane. Devon is driving her insane. She calls again, hoping he'll pick up. It goes straight to his voicemail this time. Tammie stares at the phone, unable to stop the flood of tears streaming down her face. Why would he turn his phone off? She calls again, but again, it goes straight to voicemail. She hurls her phone across the room. It makes a cracking sound as it hits the wall and falls gracelessly to the floor.

She slinks down on the couch and puts her head in her hands. Devon promised he wouldn't leave her, yet here she is. Alone. Again. She pushed him away, again. She can't cope without him. She needs him to get through this. Desperate, Tammie picks up the house phone and dials his number. It goes straight to his voicemail, but she doesn't care.

"Devon," she speaks into the phone after the familiar beep. "I'm so sorry, Devon, but I promise next Saturday I will go with you to the clinic. I swear it, okay? It won't be delayed again. I won't have any excuses. Please, just call me back, okay? I love you."

Tammie puts the receiver back in its place and cries herself to sleep.
Chapter Twelve

The Spirit of Error

Devon finally calls back, and he and Tammie make arrangements to go to the clinic the following weekend.

Friday afternoon, Tammie packs her clothes and toiletries to spend the night at Devon's house.

"Tammie, have you seen your brother?" Ms. McLeod asks as she walks into Tammie's room. Tammie freezes as Ms. McLeod eyes the backpack on her bed.

"Tammie, are you planning on going somewhere?" Ms. McLeod asks with narrowed eyes.

"Uh, yeah," Tammie doesn't make eye contact. "I'll be at a friend's house tonight." Tammie isn't sure her mother will accept such a vague answer. She can't look at her face without giving herself away. The doorbell rings and Ms. McLeod sighs before leaving to answer it.

Tammie's mother answers the door. "Hey, Ms. McLeod. May I speak with Tammie, please?"

Tammie hears Jennifer's voice from the bedroom and breathes a sigh of relief. She can use Jennifer's appearance to her advantage.

"Mom, let her in, we have some things to discuss for this evening," Tammie calls from the room.

Ms. McLeod lets her in.

"It's good to see you, Jennifer," Ms. McLeod says with sincerity.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here in a while," Jennifer apologizes.

"I'm in the room," Tammie calls out. As soon as Jennifer is in her room, Tammie closes the door.

"Tammie, I'm so sorry about what happened between us," Jennifer begins. "I was wrong on so many levels, and I really want us to be friends again. I miss you, and I love you, and I shouldn't have judged you. If there's a way to make it up to you, just tell me."

Tammie only listens half-heartedly. "Well, Jen, you want to discuss it tonight over a sleep over?"

Jennifer's eyes light up. "That would be great! What time?"

"I can be at your house around seven," Tammie replies. "But call ahead to confirm. Oh, and don't call my cell phone. Call the house phone, okay?"

"What's wrong with your cell?" Jennifer asks.

"Ugh, I broke it," Tammie sighs. "Clumsy."

Jennifer nods and smiles at Tammie. "I'm glad you're willing to give me a second chance. I've felt so terribly. Does your mom know?"

Tammie's eyes widen. "No, and don't tell her, okay? I need to tell her myself." Tammie's eyes brighten with a sudden thought. "That's something I'd like to ask you about tonight. I don't know how to tell her."

Jennifer nods. "Okay. Any help I can offer is yours, Tammie!" Jennifer gives her a hug before they leave the privacy of her room.

"So I guess you two are all set for this evening?" Ms. McLeod watches Jennifer's reaction carefully. Jennifer nods and smiles.

"I'll see you tonight, Tammie!" Jennifer waves as she leaves. Tammie smiles with as much affection as she can muster and waves back.

Tammie sits down at the dining room table. Her mother stares at her intently. Feeling self-conscious, Tammie finally dares to look at her.

"What?" Tammie asks.

"Why didn't you just tell me you were sleeping over at Jennifer's? I wouldn't be so suspicious if you'd start telling me things, you know. I thought you two had a fight?"

Tammie nods. "We did, but we decided to work things out. And I tell you things."

"Not like you used to," her mother protests. "Anyway, have fun tonight. I hope you two girls work everything out."

"Me too," Tammie nods.

Like clockwork, Jennifer calls at 6:45 that evening to make sure Tammie is still coming. Ms. McLeod answers the phone, pleased to hear that their plans are set, and hands Tammie the phone.

"Hey!" Jennifer chirps into the phone. "My mom is taking the Drama Queen and the Monster to the movies, so we have the whole house to ourselves, at least for a few hours. We can order pizza, rent a few movies, buy a bunch of chocolate—"

"Uh huh, that sounds great," Tammie speaks loudly for the benefit of her mother, who is in the kitchen fixing her meal for work. Tammie makes her way into her bedroom and closes the door.

"I've been thinking about putting a perm in my hair," Jennifer continues, "What do you think, Tammie?"

"That sounds nice, Jen," Tammie rolls her eyes. "Listen, Jennifer, I have some bad news." Tammie waits for Jennifer to stop talking long enough to continue.

"I overheard my mother and my grandmother talking, and it seems like my grandmother hurt her arm earlier today."

"Oh, that's too bad," Jennifer sympathizes.

"Yeah," Tammie agrees, hating herself. "The thing is, it's going to be extremely difficult for my grandmother to handle all of my siblings while my mother is at work and I'm away, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to cancel tonight."

"Oh," Jennifer is disappointed. "I understand. Your mother didn't mention it, though."

"Yeah, she wants me to go on anyway," Tammie lies. "Her and my grandmother insist that I go out, but I can't leave my grandmother. I mean, it wouldn't be right, would it?" Tammie feels low. Her grandmother is fine. In fact, she's going out to see a play, and all of her siblings are having sleepovers at their friends' houses. No one will be home for the better part of the night.

"No, I guess not," Jennifer concedes. "I hope we can reschedule soon?"

"Sure!" Tammie could crawl under a rock.

"Tell your grandmother for me that I hope her arm gets better," Jennifer adds. "Hey, maybe I could come over and keep you company?"

Tammie shakes her head emphatically, though Jennifer can't see it. "No, that's okay," she answers. "That's so sweet of you, though, Jennifer."

"Maybe I could call you and keep you company?" Jennifer tries again.

"Sure," Tammie replies, anxious to get her off the phone. "Hey, I gotta go, though, okay?"

"Okay," Jennifer replies reluctantly. "I love you, Tammie."

"Me too, bye," Tammie hurries her off the phone. She feels lousy, but what are her options? Jennifer will just have to understand.

"Mom, I'm going over to Jen's!" Tammie calls out, grabbing her duffel bag and making her way out the door.

About halfway down the block, Devon pulls up in his car. He opens her door for her, and they drive to his house.

"Everything's going to be okay," Devon glances nervously at Tammie, gently caressing her hand. "Tomorrow morning we'll get there, get it done, and move on with our lives. You'll see. Everything will be fine."

Tammie begins to cry. Devon looks at her, helpless, and continues to hold her hand.

Later that night, Tammie and Devon make their plans for the next day. They search the web for information and learn the procedure itself should take up to a half hour, with a few additional hours for recovery. By Sunday, Tammie should be fine, and then they can forget that any of this ever happened.

•••

Devon and Tammie arrive at the clinic, terrified. A few girls, some who look very young, sit with bouncing babies on their knees and swollen bellies. Some are accompanied by adults; others, perhaps, by their boyfriends. There are other teens and adults there, though Tammie can't tell if it's for the same reason.

The waiting room smells of antiseptic. Those who aren't already sporting babies on their knees look as frightened as Tammie. Most are too preoccupied to notice Tammie and Devon clutching each other's hands as they make their way to registration.

The clerk is a gray haired woman with a chubby face. Her white nametag with black letters says "Cam."

As soon as Cam sees Devon and Tammie, she sighs.

"How can I help you," she asks in a drone voice.

"We're here for um, for an, um, a procedure to..." Devon stutters over his words. Tammie has never seen him so perplexed. She feels her own resolve diminish as she watches his composure melt and drip to his shoes.

"I'm here for an abortion," she hears herself say. Cam looks at her intently, shakes her head, and grabs a stack of papers.

"Fill these out," she states.

Tammie accepts the papers as gracefully as possible and makes her way to a chair. She hears Devon ask, in the most timid of voices, "About how long?"

Tammie watches Cam's face splotch red. "Fill out the papers first," she states firmly. Devon nods submissively and leads Tammie to what he hopes is the most comfortable chair.

The paper work includes basic questions, like her name and date of birth. Tammie gets stuck on the more complicated questions. The first form asks which trimester she is in. What difference does her school schedule make? She ventures to ask one of the girls with a baby what that means.

The girl shrugs. "I just put down how many weeks I am. I don't remember all that Tri-Master stuff."

Tammie panics. How many weeks is she? She can't remember. It happened in December, so that makes four, eight, twelve... what day is today? Tammie looks at Devon, who is wringing his hands nervously.

"How much more do you have to fill out?" he asks. His tone is a little edgy, though Tammie can't blame him. She looks at the papers in front of her. Most of them are repetitious, asking for the same information. She supposes it saves Cam a trip to the copy machine for each patient. Tammie isn't sure how important the Trimester question is, but she leaves it blank. If it's important, they'll ask for it again, right?

She signs her name at the bottom of the remaining three pages. "Finished," she states with an out of place hoot of victory. Devon glances at her with raised eyebrows, and Tammie smiles sheepishly. Perhaps Max has rubbed off on her. She manages to hand the stack of papers to Cam without ceremony. Cam 'tsks' as she looks over Tammie's paperwork.

"Look at this," Cam says more to herself than to Tammie. "You forgot to list your trimester, honey."

"I don't know what it is," Tammie feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"How many weeks are you?" she asks without looking up.

Tammie looks at Devon, hoping he has the number memorized. He only shrugs.

"I don't know," Tammie begins. "I haven't really been keeping track, and-"

"Do you remember the date of your last period?" Cam looks up this time.

Tammie shakes her head in frustration. "Well, um..." She remembers it was around Thanksgiving. Possibly the very beginning of December.

"It was during the week of Thanksgiving," she finally gets out. Her resolve breaks and her eyes begin to tear. Cam hands her a box of Kleenex. There is no gentle cooing or sympathetic nod, or even a kind eye. Just a mechanical impulse to a knocked up teen crying on her desk. Tammie watches as Cam skims through her paperwork.

"You won't be able to get an abortion here," Cam states.

"What?" Tammie and Devon both exclaim, Tammie with relief, Devon with frustration.

Cam pulls out a chart and explains. "The first trimester ends at week 12. If your last period was the week of thanksgiving, then that puts you at sixteen weeks. This clinic does not provide service past the first trimester."

"Why not?" Tammie asks.

"Because the procedures are more invasive, and therefore more dangerous. I can give you a list of clinics that provide service for the second trimester; however, your date of birth indicates you're underage, and you either need parental consent or a court order to perform any abortion procedures in this state."

"What about these girls out here?" Devon points to the young girls who are much further along than Tammie.

"What about them?" Cam asks with a raised eyebrow.

Devon flusters for a moment. "Well they're obviously past the first trimester, right? How come they get in?"

Cam rolls her eyes. "They aren't here for abortions. This is a women's health clinic. We provide general health care, including prenatal counseling and prenatal vitamins, which I encourage you," she points at Tammie, "to begin taking if you aren't already. Pregnancy is hard enough without having medical complications that could be avoided by simply taking a vitamin."

Tammie looks at Cam, then Devon. He isn't looking at her, but she can tell he is mad.

"Come on, Tammie," he speaks gruffly. As soon as they get to his car, Devon explodes.

"I knew you were taking too long!" he spews. "How do you not know how many weeks you are, Tammie?"

"How do _you_ not know?" Tammie retorts before breaking down in tears. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"If we'd come here a few weeks ago this wouldn't be an issue," he frowns.

"You heard her," Tammie shakes her head. "Not without our parents."

Devon waves his hand in dismissal. "We could work around that. Regardless, Tammie, you took too long to make this decision. You should have done this weeks ago!"

"I said I was sorry!" Tammie exclaims. "What more can I do, Devon? We should just face it. I'm going to have to have this baby."

"No," Devon shakes his head. "There has to be another way."

"That's the only clinic in Logoria that does abortion procedures, Devon," Tammie sniffs. "Where else can we go?"

Devon exhales. "I've got to make some phone calls, Tammie. I'll drop you off at home, and call you tonight, okay?"

Tammie nods silently. Her mind is swimming. Devon doesn't seem at all enthused about keeping the baby. The only thing on his mind seems to be getting rid of it.

"I'll call you," Devon repeats as he drops Tammie off at her house. As she walks inside she ponders their situation. What if he doesn't call her back? What if this is the end of their relationship? Tammie has already sacrificed so much for them to be together. She's lied to her mother, her grandmother, and even her best friend. Tammie weeps in her hands, too overcome to go inside. She really does miss her best friend.

Jennifer has been pushed to the back of her mind for months now; but as Tammie stands by her house, alone, she realizes how much their friendship had strengthened her in the past. If things were different, Tammie would be leaning on Jen's shoulder now, telling her everything that happened and how hurt she was feeling.

Jennifer seems eager to restore their relationship. Maybe they can reconcile, after all. Tammie wipes her tears and goes inside, but is immediately confronted by her mother.

"Tammie, we need to talk," she grabs Tammie's arm and drags her into the living room.

"About what?" Tammie asks as calmly as she can.

"About your so-called sleepover," her mother replies.

"What's wrong?" Tammie feigns ignorance.

"Jennifer called today to see how you were doing," her mother crosses her arms. Tammie swallows a lump in her throat as her grandmother walks into the room, equally as agitated.

"She also asked how my arm was," the eldest McLeod adds. "I didn't realize there was anything wrong with my arm."

"Tammie, what's going on?" her mother demands. "I want answers!"

Tammie shakes her head. "Unbelievable," she mutters.

"What was that?" her mother shrieks. "Tammie Michelle McLeod, you tell me what's going on and you tell me now! Is it that boy? Huh? That little white boy I keep seeing you with?"

Tammie opens her mouth wide in shock. Is their opinion so high of Devon and so low of her that they can't figure things out?

"Yeah, it's Max," Tammie answers sarcastically. "Max and I were shooting, snorting and making out last night."

"Watch your tone, young lady," her grandmother interjects.

Tammie shakes her head. "I'm sorry, but I wasn't expecting to be ambushed as soon as I walked in the door."

"And I wasn't expecting to be lied to!" her mother replies in a hurt tone. "We used to be so close, and ever since you met that boy, you've been lying to me!"

"Devon?" Tammie questions.

"Max!" Her mother throws her hands up in exasperation. "And speaking of Devon, have you even thought to consider his feelings in this whole matter? How do you think he'll feel if you've been sneaking around with this boy behind his back? How can you be so selfish?"

Tammie has had enough. "What did you expect from me, mom? I learned from the best!"

"Excuse me?' her mother fumes.

Tammie wipes away the tears falling down her face. "You've have men come in and out of this house since I was in diapers, and not once did you consider how that affected us!"

"That's enough," her mother says.

"No, let me finish!" Tammie doesn't think it is enough. Not nearly enough. "All you ever think about is what you need. You need a man, you need a fix, you don't want to be lonely. Did you ever think that some of these men were dangerous? That they might hurt you, or one of us? Were you too busy having a good time to notice the way those men were looking at your kids? Of the dozens of pigs you've brought in here, at least five have made a pass at me. Two of them have touched me in a way that still makes me hate myself, and one of them-" Tammie pauses as a sob catches in her throat. "One of them hurt me, mom. He made me touch him and then he hit me."

Tammie's grandmother gasps, looking at Tammie, and then at her daughter.

Tammie continues. "You had to have noticed something. You had to have known _something_. No mother could be that blind. But you never said a word. You pretended that nothing happened, that everything was fine. You never asked me about it. You never said anything to me. Never. So you don't have the right to say anything to me now."

Tammie's mother stands, speechless. Tammie shakes her head and rushes to her room.

"Tammie," her grandmother calls out softly, reaching out her hand to her as she passes, but Tammie doesn't stop.

The eldest McLeod looks at her daughter, but Sadie McLeod cannot return her gaze. Instead she grabs her keys and purse.

"I have to go to work, mama," she states quickly.

"Sadie, she needs you," Mrs. McLeod pleads. But her daughter simply shakes her head.

"I can't deal with this now. I have to go to work."

Tammie's grandmother watches her daughter leave and hears her granddaughter's cries. She feels helpless, for the first time in a long time, and prays for guidance for each of them.
Chapter Thirteen

Now or Never

Later that evening, Tammie's grandmother knocks on the door.

"Baby girl, I'm going to go pick up your brothers and sisters. I'll be back after a while ok?" Tammie gives a muffled reply from her pillow and listens to the sound of the front door closing.

Devon calls just a few minutes later. After hearing Devon's plan, she packs yet another night's worth of clothes, mind feeling numb.

"My cousin told me about this place," Devon says. "They'll do the procedure, and they're very, um, discreet."

Tammie nods, forgetting that he can't see her reaction.

"Tammie? You there?" he calls out through the phone.

"Yeah," Tammie speaks apologetically. "I'm here. So what time?"

"Eight," Devon continues. "But I need you to come up with the rest of the money. It's going to cost way more."

"How much?" Tammie feels her stomach tighten. She doesn't have any money.

"A thousand dollars," he answers. "But I have seven already," he adds quickly. "I just need you to come up with the other three."

Three hundred dollars? Tammie bites her lip. The only money she has access to is the emergency stash her mother keeps in her bedroom. She runs quickly to her mother's room, feeling in between the mattresses for the cash she knows is there. Tammie's insides wrench with guilt. She's never stolen from her mother before, but this is an emergency.

But it isn't there. Tammie glances quickly at the door, halfway expecting her mother or grandmother to walk in at any moment. Where is it? Tammie lifts the mattress completely, but there is nothing there. Perhaps one of her mother's thieving boyfriends found it.

Tammie goes into the living room and sits on the couch. She begins feeling the sides and in between the cushions, just in case. Defeated, she removes her now linty fingers from the couch and sighs. She remembers that Devon is still waiting on the phone in her bedroom. Just as she gets up, she spots her grandmother's purse. She must have forgotten it when she left the house.

Tammie peeks inside and finds her wallet. She pulls it out slowly, reconciling her actions. Her grandmother is a good woman. The worst thing she's ever done to her, in fact the only thing, is give birth to Tammie's mother. She can't be faulted for that. Mercedes McLeod made her own decisions.

Tammie opens the wallet, hoping to find no more than twenty dollars.

There is more. Tammie stops counting after four hundred and stares at the money in her hand. She's about to cross the line between being a liar and being a thief.

Tammie crosses the line achingly, promising herself that she will repay her grandmother. Precisely how she'll do that is fuzzy, but she will definitely repay her. Tammie takes the $300 she needs and replaces the wallet.

The phone rings, and Tammie again remembers that she left Devon on the line. Of course, it is Devon.

"I've got it," she tells him. She can hear the smile on his face.

"Good girl, Tammie. Now don't worry. Everything's going to be okay. I promise." Tammie hopes this time he is right.

•••

When they arrive at the clinic Tammie is immediately skeptical. The whole block seems like the type of place you avoid after dark. There are a few prostitutes leaning on car doors and men loitering on the sidewalk, or leaning against fences. There's more garbage on the ground than in the cans on the corners. The building they are headed to looks like a large house. A shoddy, cardboard sign marked "Counseling Services" is the only indication that the place is a business. The window –there is only one –is dingy and caked with dirt.

"This is it?" Tammie questions nervously. She doesn't like the look, or the feel, of this place. She isn't even sure where they are. It definitely isn't Logoria.

"I know it doesn't look like much," Devon concedes. "But my cousin says they're very discreet. Come on."

Devon gently grabs her hand and leads her inside. It's dark, and there is no registration area; just a table with clipboards and pens and a waiting area with couches and chairs. Tammie and Devon walk up to the table and grab one of the clipboards. It is a sign-in list, more or less, with a check box beside each heading. The first box is 'Pain Relievers,' the second 'Termination,' the third 'Sleepers.'

Tammie looks at Devon, confused. "Is this place legit?" she asks.

Devon shushes her. "Don't ask questions, Tammie. They'll get it done, and you'll be fine."

"Are these people even real doctors?" she speaks with an edge in her voice.

Devon is becoming annoyed. "Listen, this wouldn't even be an option if you'd just done what needed to be done weeks ago. My cousin has been here before, and everything turned out fine. The people here have plenty of medical experience. I don't know if they have medical degrees, but they don't need one for the services they offer. Are you doing this or not?"

Tammie nods, anxious. What has she gotten herself into?

"Well, which box do I check?" she asks.

"Termination," Devon says, rolling his eyes. "The first is for drugs like codeine and morphine, and the third is for Euthanasia."

"Isn't that illegal?" Tammie gasps.

"Shut up!" Devon hisses, grabbing Tammie forcefully by the arm. "You're going to get us kicked out with talk like that. What did you think I meant when I said 'discreet'?"

"I don't know," Tammie begins to tear, glancing at her arm. "I guess I thought it meant they wouldn't need my mom to sign anything, or they don't keep public records."

"Well, they offer services that others don't without going through all the paperwork, Tammie. That's why it costs so much more. Do you have the money?"

Tammie nods, indicating its location in her purse. "What do we do after we check the box?" she asks.

"We wait," Devon shrugs. They sit down after placing the clipboard back on the table and wait for someone to see them.

A scuffle in the back of the building startles Tammie. Several doors slam, and Tammie watches a man come through one of the doors and into the waiting room with a large black bag in his hand. There is a cut near his eye, and the man is breathing hard, cussing and muttering under his breath. Another man comes through the door behind him and grabs his shirt.

"Not this way, you idiot!" he yells. "I told you to take it out the back!"

The two engage in an altercation which ultimately ends with the black bag being dropped and split open. Tammie gasps as a tiny, twisted body spills out onto the floor. It's only the size of her hand, but all of the features of a human child are there. Tammie looks away before she can identify what else has fallen out of the bag, but not before bile rises in her throat. She runs out of the building, vomiting on the ground. Devon finds her shortly afterwards and rubs her back softly.

"It's okay, Tammie," Devon soothes. "Calm down, okay?"

Tammie nods, grateful for his touch, and straightens herself. "Did you see it?" she cries. "The little baby? Did you see it?"

Devon nods. "I saw it."

Tammie shakes her head. "It was so awful. The little bones were broken; it looked like it went through so much pain."

"I don't think so," Devon shakes his head. "Tammie, the baby can't feel anything. It's just a fetus."

Tammie looks at Devon with horror. "What? The baby _can_ feel. It feels _everything_! Is that how you see our baby? As just a fetus?"

Devon shrugs. "Well, yeah. Tammie, look, you're becoming emotional. Think rationally about this. If you have this baby, you'll have to quit school, probably for the rest of the child's life. You'd resent your baby for that. And you're too young and too uneducated to get a meaningful job that pays real money. So you're setting up yourself and your baby for a life that's miserable and full of hardship. Is that what you want?"

Tammie shakes her head. "No."

Devon nods. "Then let's go back and wait our turn. The procedure will be over quickly. You won't even have to see it."

Tammie stares at Devon, defiant. "I'm not going back in there."

Devon shakes his head, frustrated. "Tammie, you're really starting to annoy me with this flakiness. I've tried to be patient, and I've sacrificed a lot to make sure I do everything I can for you. I have tried and tried to make this easy for you, and I'm fed up. Either you're with me, or you're not. Now, are you going through with this, or not?"

Tammie presses her lips together before speaking. "Devon, you don't understand how hard this is."

"It's hard for me too, Tammie!" Devon speaks defensively. "The only person you've been thinking about this entire time is you! Don't you ever think about me? Don't you ever wonder what this is going to do to my life?"

"I am thinking about you!" Tammie exclaims. "I'm thinking about the both of us, Devon. I just..."

"Either you're with me, or you're not," Devon states coldly.

Tammie sniffs and wipes her face in her hands. "Devon, I'm not going back in there!"

Devon scoffs, shaking his head. "Fine. Have it your way. You made this decision by yourself, so you can deal with it by yourself." Devon walks to his car.

"Devon," Tammie calls after him, following him. "This doesn't mean I don't want us to be together."

Devon gets in his car and puts it in gear.

Tammie grabs the passenger door, but it's locked.

"Devon?" she stares at him wide-eyed as he drives off.

Tammie panics and runs after him. "Devon!" she screams after him and stops, panting heavily, overcome with sobs. She looks around at her unfamiliar surroundings. The entire street is dark, with the exception of one faint, blinking street light. There are a few people out. None of them look very friendly. Many of them are staring in her direction. Tammie recognizes the look and begins walking away, quickly.

How could Devon leave her in the middle of nowhere? How will she get home? Tammie grabs her wallet out of her purse and stuffs it in her jacket pocket, then pulls out her mother's cell phone. She'd grabbed it off the bookshelf earlier, knowing she'd never miss it.

The battery is at four percent. Who can she call anyway? Tammie considers her mother, then thinks better of it. Her mother will scream at her until her phone dies, and she'll still be in the same position. She has no idea where she is and doesn't trust anyone near her to ask. The only store nearby is closed. Tammie sits on a sidewalk bench, frantically searching her mother's meager contact list for a savior. She winces when she scrolls past Jennifer's name, remembering the way she had manipulated her. She stops when she sees Max's number. Her mother has it listed as Mr. Kent's home number. All the youth leaders give their home numbers to the parents of the youth, in case they need help. Perhaps Mr. Kent can help. She calls his number, not knowing what to say.

Max answers on the first ring.

"Tammie, is everything okay?" Max asks.

Tammie shakes her head. "No. Devon left me, and I'm here all alone, and I don't know where I am, and I have no way home."

"Okay, I'm on my way," Max speaks quickly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Tammie sniffs. "But I don't know where I am. I'm not in Logoria, I'm in Clairmont, I think, or some city a few miles past Logoria."

"Just give me a few minutes, okay?" Max assures her. She hears him grunt as he puts on his shoes. "Are you sitting down somewhere?"

"I'm on a bench," Tammie looks around her to describe everything she sees. "The street name is Wales, and there's a deli, and a few apartment buildings. The street is very narrow and gravelly. There are three cars on the side I'm sitting on," Tammie isn't sure how helpful this information will be, but she gives it to him anyway.

"Okay, three cars, Whales, gravel, got it," Max recaps. "Tammie, what are you-"

Tammie pulls the phone from her ear when Max is cut off. It is shutting down. Tammie stares at the now dead phone for a full minute, hoping that Max will be able to find her.

•••

Max isn't driving; at least, it doesn't seem that way. It feels more like someone is leading him; guiding his movements as he makes his way out of the city towards who knows where. He'd been expecting Tammie's call. He'd had another dream, and in the dream, Tammie had called him for help. He saw where she was sitting on a bench, crying.

He doesn't know how he knows these things, but hopefully they'll prove true. Tammie needs him, and, more importantly, needs God. Max prays emphatically that he'll find her soon, and she'll be okay.

•••

Tammie can't hold back anymore. According to her watch half an hour has passed with no sign of Max. How can he possibly find her? There are three cities neighboring Logoria, and who knows how many have a street called Wales? Tammie sobs, softly at first, then uncontrollably. How could this happen to her? Once again, she'd trusted someone she thought was special, and once again, she'd been let down.

Tammie puts her head in her hands, crying inconsolably. She feels a hand rest on her shoulder. She looks up, hoping it is Max, and is horrified to see a toothless man before her. He smiles before pulling her purse off her shoulder and taking off into the night.

Tammie stares after him, dumbstruck. She can't even scream for help. Who would listen, anyway? She hears tires screech in front of her and watches, relieved, as Max jumps out of his car. He immediately starts after the purse snatcher.

"Hey, get back here!" he yells.

Tammie finds her voice again. "No, Max it's okay, really."

Max looks back at her, concern etched on his face. "Tammie, thank God! Are you alright?"

Tammie nods. "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about my purse. I put my wallet in my jacket. He didn't get away with anything of value, unless he fancies Coach."

Max sighs in relief. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Tammie gets in the car, glad he has the heat on, and sobs.

Max watches her, uncertain, as he starts the car and heads back in the direction he came from.

"How did you find me?" Tammie asks between sniffles.

Max shakes his head. "I have no idea. I just knew where you were, somehow. Are you sure you're okay?" Tammie nods, though her tears haven't stopped yet.

"How could Devon leave you out here?" Max asks angrily. "Who would do something like that?"

Tammie is grateful Max doesn't ask why she's here, but she feels the need to tell him anyway.

"Max, we came here to get an abortion," she speaks quietly.

Max continues to drive, waiting for her to continue.

"I couldn't go through with it," she finally says. "I was ready to, but then, I saw... I just couldn't."

Max nods in understanding. "What are you going to do now?" he asks.

Tammie shakes her head. "I don't know. I thought I had everything figured out, but now I don't know. Devon doesn't want to be with me anymore. I don't blame him. I don't want to be with myself."

"Why?" Max asks. "Tammie, you're a very brave person. What you did tonight was very courageous. I'm proud of you for standing up for what you thought was right."

"I don't feel like that's what I did," Tammie shakes her head. "I'm not sure if it is the right thing to do. How can I take care of a baby? Especially now?"

Max looks at the road in thought. "How does a widow take care of a baby? Or a single mom? How did your mom take care of all of you?"

"I don't know," Tammie answers honestly.

"I'm sure if you think about everything you have to do in any situation, you'll feel overwhelmed," Max offers. "Just take things one day, one step, at a time, and maybe it won't seem so bad. You have more support than you think, Tammie."

"What support?" Tammie scoffs. "The only people who know about it haven't supported me."

"Tammie," Max sighs. "You have a mother who loves you enough to embarrass you and your friends if she thinks they're a bad influence. You have a loving grandmother, brothers and sisters, and a church family who prays for you. You have Jennifer who, admittedly wasn't all that supportive in the beginning, but is now more than willing to make up for that."

"How did you know that?" Tammie asks.

Max smiles. "Martin and Jen are like peas and carrots, Tammie. I couldn't help but overhear about your 'sleepover.'"

Tammie lowers her head in shame. "Yeah. I don't think she'll want to be my friend after that."

Max waves her comment away. "Even if that were true, you still have me, which may not be much but has to count for something. And," Max smiles at her. "You have a God who loves you and wants you and will never, ever leave you. Support like that can't be bought, Tammie."

"How can God love me after all I've done?" Tammie cries. "I've been living in sin, Max. Devon and I have been sleeping together. And let's not forget that I'm pregnant, and there won't be a wedding anytime soon."

"What would forgiveness be worth if God only forgave certain sins at certain times?" Max asks. "Tammie, it doesn't matter what you've done. God can and will forgive you. You're his child. And you're too precious for Him to just give up over some sin he's forgiven billions of times already for billions of people. You just have to forgive yourself."

"You make it sound so easy," Tammie sniffs. "What about you, Max? You're telling me all these things about God's forgiveness when you don't believe he can forgive you. Why should I believe he can forgive me if he can't forgive you?"

Max opens his mouth to speak, but he doesn't know what to say. She's right. "Then I guess we both have a decision to make," he says finally.

Tammie nods quietly.

"So, are you going to tell your mom?" Max asks.

Tammie sucks in her breath. "I really don't know what I'm going to do, Max. I'm scared."

"Me too," Max admits.

Tammie looks at him. "Why are you scared?" she asks.

"Because you're right," Max replies. "If God can forgive any sin, then I'm no more an exception than you are. God's ready to forgive my sins just as soon as I ask him."

"That scares you?" Tammie asks.

Max nods. "It terrifies me," he confesses. "I've been making excuses for so long, hiding from God, as if that's even possible..." Max pulls into Tammie's driveway and parks the car.

He gets out and opens Tammie's door, where they embrace briefly.

"Tammie, let me pick you up for church tomorrow," he offers.

She hesitates. "I don't know, Max."

"I'll pick you up, we'll get some breakfast, and we'll go to service. Please say yes?"

After giving it some thought, Tammie finally agrees. They say goodbye and Tammie makes her way inside.

Her mother is waiting for her.

"Tammie?" she calls.

Tammie is startled. It is only ten o'clock. Her mother shouldn't be home.

"Mom? Shouldn't you be at work?" she asks.

Her mother is in the dining room, sipping a cup of coffee. "I came home early," she confesses. "I wanted to talk to you so we could sort some things out. Who brought you home, Tammie? I didn't recognize the car."

"That was Max," Tammie remembers her mother's earlier accusations. "Devon left me stranded, and Max came to pick me up."

"Devon?" her mother's tone expresses her disbelief. "I can't imagine Devon doing something like that."

"Neither could I until tonight," Tammie sniffs.

"Honey, please talk to me," her mother coaxes her forward. "You can talk to me, you know." Tammie sits in one of the kitchen chairs while her mother speaks.

"I've made a lot of mistakes, and I'm sorry for the way they've affected you," she continues. "So let's start over, okay? I'm Miss Mercedes McLeod, mother of four, wife of none, and attracted to the worst kind of men. I just realized that my life affects my children whether I want it to or not, and I have a teenage daughter I really want to reconnect with. Now you go."

Tammie wipes a tear from her face before speaking.

"I'm Tammie Michelle McLeod, and I'm pregnant."

Her mother gasps, and Tammie looks at her with eyes full of remorse.

"I'm so sorry, mom," she says.

Her mother holds her in an embrace, stroking her hair and rocking her while she cries. "It's okay, honey," she sniffs. "Tell me everything."
Chapter Fourteen

Redemption

Max arrives the next morning, sharply dressed with a three piece suit and tie. His hair looks freshly cut, his face is shaved clean, and he is wearing cologne that makes both Tammie's mother and grandmother smile. They drink in his presence with gusto, an acutely different reception compared to their first meeting. Tammie smiles too when she sees him. Max attends most services in jeans and a clean t-shirt.

"Ready to go?" he smiles at Tammie. She nods, kissing her mother and grandmother on the way out.

"You look nice," Tammie comments as she puts on her jacket.

"It's a special occasion," Max replies. His stomach is turning flips; he hadn't been able to find his bible this morning, and the excitement of the moment is exhilarating. He is actually going to give his life to Christ; well, he already had. He thought he had to go to church to do it, but after speaking with Mr. Kent, he learned he could do it right in the living room. At the service he will be proclaiming it, officially. He isn't running from God anymore.

"My mom and my grandmother are coming to church today, but they're coming after Sunday School," Tammie tells him as they both get in the car. "I spoke with my mom last night about the baby."

"What did she say?" Max asks as he pulls off.

"She was calm. Stunned, at first, but mostly understanding." Tammie recalls their conversation. "She wasn't at all the way I imagined. She held me and kissed me and told me she loved me." Tammie's voice catches, and she grabs a tissue from her purse.

"I spoke with my grandmother this morning, and I told them you were taking me to church. That's when they all agreed to come, too. My brothers and sisters will be with them." Tammie looks at Max. "You were right, you know. I should have told her a long time ago. I just didn't think..."

"Hey, it's okay," Max interrupts. "It's in the past now. We're moving on, right?"

Tammie sniffs, nodding her head in agreement. "Today seems so different from the way these past few months have been. It's like I have hope again. And faith."

"Speaking of faith," Max looks at her and smiles. "I'm proclaiming mine today."

Tammie drops her tissue. "Max, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Max nods, grinning wide as he speaks. "If you think I'm saying that I gave my life to Christ last night, and I'm officially joining the ranks this morning, then yes, I am absolutely saying what you think I'm saying."

"Oh, my God," Tammie cries. "Max, this is wonderful."

"What will be more wonderful is when the both of us walk down together," Max grabs her hand and squeezes it.

Tammie stares at his hand and looks out the window. "I don't think I can do that, Max."

He frowns. "Why? You just said you have your faith back-"

"But I don't want people staring at me," Tammie interrupts him. "They'll know that I've done something wrong, and-"

"And what, Tammie?" Max sighs. "The church loves you. And everyone does something wrong. No one in their right mind will judge you. They'll be happy for you. For both of us."

"No, it's different for you, Max," Tammie shakes her head. "You're just coming into the faith. Me, I'm a hypocrite. I've been a Christian since I was ten, and I messed up. I shamed Christ."

Max frowns. "So, this is a one shot deal? If I screw up one time, I can't be a Christian anymore?"

Tammie pauses. "Well, no, that's not exactly it, Max."

"Then tell me, what are you talking about?" Max demands. "If we're saved through grace, and not by anything we do, even with all of our sinfulness, then why would God condemn us and refuse us for making one mistake?"

"Because I made the same mistake over and over, Max," Tammie responds. "I knew what I was doing was wrong, and I could have said no, but I didn't. I chose wrong. You can't help your sinful nature before Christ because it's your nature. Once you give your life to Christ, your nature is no longer sin but the Holy Spirit. You're no longer a slave to your flesh. Christ freed me from sin, and I willfully went back to it. What kind of Christian does that?"

"I understand where you're coming from, Tammie," Max nods as they pull into the church parking lot. "But what about 1 John 1:9? 'If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us all our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' Your specific sin may be more visible than others, but it's no different than lying or stealing or cheating."

"How come you know all this stuff?" Tammie sniffs.

"I've been paying attention in Bible study," Max smirks. "And I'm hoping that we'll be going together from now on? At least until my dad gets out of rehab?"

Tammie nods. "I'd like that, Max."

Max opens her door for her and they head inside the church.

•••

At the end of his sermon the Senior Pastor gives an altar call. Max stands up and starts down the aisle, hesitant at first, then with confidence as several members of the congregation stand and clap. He stops mid-aisle and looks behind him. Tammie is standing and nervously makes her way down the aisle. Max goes to her side and grabs her hand and they walk down together. Tammie begins to cry the moment she makes it to the altar. A loving hand caresses her back, and she turns. Jennifer smiles at her and kisses her on the cheek. Tammie embraces her tightly.

"I'm glad you're back," Jennifer cries.

"Me too," Tammie responds in kind.

Max feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see who it is. Martin stands behind him and nods reassuringly. Max nods back and glances briefly at Tammie and Jennifer, who are both still locked in an embrace. He faces the altar and the pastor and smiles. No more running. He is home.
Epilogue

Max makes his way to his bedroom, still pumped from the Sunday service. It's been two weeks since his conversion, and he's enjoyed every moment. He can hear Mr. Kent's footsteps in the garage. He'd left the church before Max, telling him he had some work to do. Max tears at his tie and flings off his suit jacket. He kicks off his shoes and socks and puts on his house slippers. He heads to the garage, stopping by the long mirror to admire the cut Mr. Kent had done earlier that morning.

"O.K., you did a great job on my curly locks!" he jokes. When he walks into the garage, Mr. Kent is on the phone, pacing back and forth.

"Hey, thanks for letting me use your cologne," Max smiles. "Everyone thought I smelled delicious!" Mr. Kent holds up a finger, signaling for Max to hush.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," is all Max hears of the conversation before Mr. Kent hangs up the phone.

"Who was that?" Max asks.

"That was my sister," Mr. Kent replies somberly. "My mother had a bad fall, and she's in the hospital."

"Is she going to be okay?" Max asks anxiously.

"Yes, she'll be okay, but when she gets out she's going to need constant care. No one lives near enough to take care of her. My sister and her husband were visiting from another state when it happened."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Max offers his condolence. "Are you going to go see her?"

"Yeah," Mr. Kent speaks slowly. "I'm actually... you see I'm the only one who can take care of her, Max. My sister and her husband have kids, and they live on the other side of the country. I'm the only one who isn't tied down. I've got to move."

A sharp pain hits Max in the chest. Mr. Kent is moving? "Okay. How soon?"

"I'm selling this place, and I'll be putting in a transfer request for the Clearwater Police Department first thing Monday morning."

"Clearwater? Is that far from here?" Max asks with dread.

"It's about a twenty hour drive from here," Mr. Kent nods. "My sister is staying while her husband and kids go back home. I told my sister I need to stay here as long as your father is in rehab, but when he gets out, I'm going to have to go."

Max feels his heart, which had come alive so joyously the past few weeks, rip in half.

"You can't," Max shakes his head rebelliously. "This can't be good. I mean, who's going to be my probation officer? And who's going to help me in my new faith, and look out for me, and make sure I'm keeping up my grades and not skipping school?"

"You have your father," Mr. Kent offers. "And you'll get another probe officer; I promise you he'll be just as good as me."

"That's impossible," Max rasps. "No one would do what you've done for me." Max is on the verge of a meltdown. Mr. Kent has been his anchor since his mother died, holding him in place and keeping him from drifting.

"You've taken me in, O.K., and you're like a father to me. No one can replace you." Max wipes a tear from his face and frowns.

"Max, I would love nothing more than to stay and be here for you. My life's purpose is tied to what's happened to you in the past few months. I have seen such a great transformation in you, and you have made me so proud."

"But you're still leaving," Max cries. Max swipes at his face, fighting hard not to cry like a baby. He watches the emotional turmoil playing out in Mr. Kent's face and is shocked as he begins to cry as well. He's never seen Mr. Kent cry, yet here he is, shedding one tear after another.

"Max," Mr. Kent's voice cracks, but only briefly. "I love you as if you were my own son, and I would never abandon you. But I have to take care of my mother. She needs me more than you do, and I need to honor her. You understand?"

Max nods. He wishes he had done the same for his mother. "I understand. And I know this is something you have to do. I just wish it didn't have to be so soon. I mean, I'm finally on the right path; now I feel like my light is being taken away."

"Hey," Mr. Kent places his hands on Max's shoulders. "Christ is your light. Follow Him." Max nods, keeping his head low to hide his tears.

"Everything will be okay. Your dad will get out soon, and both of you can stay here until the broker sells the house. And if you need me, you can call me."

Max sucks in his breath and nods, wiping his face on his sleeve. "You promise to visit?"

"Of course," Mr. Kent dries his face as well.

"And if I need you, I can call you?" Max questions.

"Any time of the day or night," Mr. Kent nods emphatically. "No matter what it is. If you need me, you call me."

"Even if it's about a girl?" Max asks.

Mr. Kent chuckles. "Especially if it's about a girl."

Max laughs. "Okay."

"Hey, we've got at least a week before anything happens, Max." Mr. Kent steps over to his weight set and hands him two 10 lb bars. "Let's see how much muscle tone we can acquire between now and then, huh?"

Max laughs and looks at the weights. It will be an interesting week.

###
For additional updates on books in the Logoria Series, visit the author's website at

http://www.phylicia.us

Or visit her smashwords page at

<http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/pjleigh>

