Page 55 of Pregnant in Pennsylvania

Jen sighs. “Um. I may have gotten a little…testy.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah. I was like, I’m not your type? Why? Is it because I’m fat, or because I’m smart?”

I frown at her. “Jen—you arenot—”

She holds up her hands. “I know, I know—you don’t have to say it, Mrs. Thomas. I know I’m not fat. I’ve actually lost fifteen pounds since school started. I’ve been walking to and from school instead of driving and I stopped drinking soda.”

“That’sawesome, Jen! I’m so proud of you I just can’t even!”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t try to sound cool, Mrs. T. It doesn’t work for you.”

I chuckle. “No? Just accept that I’m lame?”

“No! I just meant…you don’t need to try to talk like a teenager or whatever to sound cool. You’re cool enough without using outdated slang.”

“Outdated?”

“The whole ‘can’t even’ thing is pretty much over.”

“Oh.” I sigh. “See? Lame.”

“You’renotlame. You’re your own kind of cool.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “That sounds an awful lot like patronization.”

“It’s not! I swear! You’re not just everyone’s favorite guidance counselor, you’re pretty much everyone’s favorite staff member in the whole school.” She shrugs. “It’s a toss-up between you and Ms. Pearson, and you guys are BFF’s.”

“I didn’t think anyone still said BFF,” I say.

Jen laughs. “Hey, I’m not much cooler than you are.”

“So I’mnotcool! You admit it!”

“You’re cool precisely because you’re not and you don’t try to be…it’s hard to explain.”

I nod. “I’ll accept that.” I roll my hand in a keep-going gesture. “So. What was Rob’s response to your outburst?”

“He got mad. He was like, ‘it has nothing to do with your weight, Jen,’” She mimics Rob’s deep voice. “So I was like, why, and he was like—”

I interrupt her. “Jen, you’re far too smart to be saying ‘like’ so much.”

She groans. “I know, I know. But I’m upset, so…whatever.” She waves a hand. “He told me he just didn’t think of me like that. He said he likes me as a friend, but that’s it. Then he said I hope you understand, and we can totally be friends…it was a douchey cop-out. It was straight from a made-for-TV teenage romance movie where the popular jock lets the smart but awkward heroine down gently, leading her to go through a supposedly drastic makeover that usually just involves straightening her hair, putting in contacts, and not dressing like a dork.”

I laugh. “That’s…surprisingly specific.”

“That’s how it felt.”

“I’m sorry, Jen. That had to have hurt.”

She shrugs. “Yeah, but, I mean…I expected it. I just didn’t want to regret not saying anything to him, not even trying. You know? Like, I fully expected him to reject me, and he did, but at least now I have the satisfaction of knowing I tried.”

Somehow, her words sting. I shove that away and focus on Jen.

“I’m proud of you, Jen. It took guts to do that, especially if you anticipated rejection from the very start.” I smile at her. “I’m impressed…and inspired.”

She smiles, a little tearfully. “I guess I just…I wanted to tell you.”