Pulling back my hair, I lean over the toilet and retch.
I wince at the sound of my breakfast pouring into the water, and take a deep breath. My other hand lept up to my belly, where I stroked my three-months-pregnant stomach.
"Hey, you okay?" My best friend, Ming, steps into the stall, and places a hand on my shoulder. I look up at her, the earbud still poking from her ears, and her foot softly tapping a beat on the tile beneith me.
"Fine." I gasp, and turn back to the toilet.
Satisfied that my stomach was finished rejecting my morning meal, I shook as I stood, and leaned against the wall to let the nausea pass.
"Ready?" Ming smiled. She was so supportive. Ming had been there after my former boyfriend had drugged me and raped me, while I waited for the two pink lines that would prove my condition, and helped me decide to keep my son or daughter.
Nodding, Ming guides me from the bathroom, and I the loud, noisy highschool halls. Weaving through the people, we head to our lockers, and pick up our history books.
I used to be the popular girl. Until my father was killed and our business was passed down to his brother, my uncle Mark, instead of my mom. Uncle Mark had sent money to my mother for about six months until he came over one night, and told my mom to get a job. No more checks after that.
I keep my head down as I stick by Ming, dodging into the classroom just before the school bell rang.
YOU ARE READING
Storm Star
Science FictionNine teens, chosen for some mysterious purpose, the survivors of "the wipe-out" as that day was called. A post-apocalyptic world is all that left. And the aliens who came.
