The Weight of the World Read Free

landmarks? Show him where to find the
supermarket and the bank?”
    “ Oh
that could be fun,” Devon said with a smirk. Adam was tall and
broad-shouldered. He was very good-looking. The other girls on the
cheerleading squad would just about die of envy.
    Devon’s
phone buzzed in her tight pocket. She slipped it out and looked down.
Frank. Devon ignored the call. Now was not the time to discuss their
news. Her mother stood up to start clearing away dishes. Devon stood
up to help, which drew a look of surprise from her father. Devon
never volunteered her help unless she wanted something. She compiled
the empty cardboard containers and carried them to the kitchen to
throw away.
    “ Devon?”
her mother asked when she came back to start clearing away the actual
dishes. Devon had barely touched her own dinner. Fried rice had been
pushed around the edges of the plate, but it was still clear that she
had hardly eaten. And she was quiet. “Is everything okay?”
Devon’s suddenly dark demeanor was foreign in their home. She just
wasn’t like those other moody teenagers.
    “ I’m
fine,” she said. Devon stopped and looked at Adam. Now was a hell
of a time to have a house guest. “We
can talk about it later.”
    Adam
nodded and stood up. Mrs. Valentine pointed him towards the bathroom
so he could wash up. Devon stayed standing. She felt stronger if she
was on her feet.
    When
Adam returned, he seemed to have noted the tension. He shoved his
hands in his pockets and looked down at his shoes. “Well, thank you
for dinner,” he said, “but I think I need to head home. I’ve
been traveling since sun-up.”
    Devon’s
parents exchanged pleasantries as they walked Adam to the door. When
he was out on the front walk and the door was shut, h er
mother came back into the room and sat down. “What’s wrong,”
she asked, “is it drugs?”
    “ Ew,
no. Do I look like a junkie?”
    “ I
saw a lovely young girl on TV the other day who was doing meth. Are
you... how do you take crystal meth?”
    “ No,
Mom, I don’t have a meth habit, and I’m not running a meth lab.
I’m pregnant.”
    Mrs.
Valentine knocked over her wine glass. A pool of red crawled across
the table and wicked through the white table runner.
    Mr.
Valentine just stared, his forehead twitching.
    “ Say
something,” Devon said to her father after too much time had passed
in silence.
    “ How?”
    “ From
sex, how else?”
    His
eyes looked ready to pop out. Devon tried to back track. Now was not
the time to be fresh. “From my boyfriend, Frank.”
    “ Frank?”
Mrs. Valentine asked. “This wouldn’t have happened if you were
dating that Morrisey boy.
    Devon
didn’t feel like telling her mother that Nick Morrisey would have
been worse. Instead, she looked down at the table to avoid laughing
at the irony of that comment. “Frank Guerrero. The football team’s
center.”
    “ The
Mexican,” Mr. Valentine said.
    “ He’s
Cuban.”
    “ Same
thing.”
    Devon
winced. She looked back up at her father. “I’m six weeks along,
and I’m not getting an abortion, so there you have it. Ground me
till I’m eighteen if you want.”
    Mr.
an Mrs. Valentine looked at each other. There was no way that they
were ready for this. Did they punish her or hug her? Did they blame
themselves or the other parent? Mrs. Valentine had started to cry,
and Mr. Valentine looked ready to pop.
    A
motorcycle’s rumble faded into earshot. Devon heard it go quiet at
the end of the cul de sac. Frank. She started clearing the rest of
the dishes. “I’ll let you two talk. You know, agree on my
punishment.”
    Devon
dumped the dishes in the sink and ran up the stairs. She closed her
bedroom door and ran to the window, throwing it open. Frank climbed
through. She was glad he came back. Devon threw her arms around his
shoulders and buried her face in his neck. He couldn’t remember the
last time she’d simply hugged him.
    “ We
needed to talk about it,” he said. He held the blonde in