Between second and third period, I spot Blake at the end of the hallway. Our eyes meet for a split second before I duck into the nearest bathroom, my heart hammering. When I emerge five minutes later, he's gone, but I swear I can still feel his gaze on my skin.
During my planning period, Noah's deep voice carries through my closed door as he talks to another teacher in the hallway. I freeze at my desk, barely breathing, until the conversation ends and his footsteps fade away.
At lunch, I risk a trip to the copy room and nearly collide with Jack coming around the corner. He reaches out to steady me, his hand warm on my elbow. "Mia," he says softly, concern etched in his features. A group of students floods the hallway between us, and I use the distraction to slip away, leaving him standing there.
By the time the final bell rings, my nerves are frayed to breaking.
After the final bell, I catch Jessica before she can escape. "Can you stay for a minute? I'd like to talk to you."
Her eyes widen with panic. "I have to catch my bus."
"This won't take long. Please."
She hovers by the door, her backpack clutched against her chest like a shield. I move slowly, keeping my voice gentle and non-threatening.
"Jessica, I've noticed you haven't been yourself lately. Is everything okay?"
"I'm fine." The lie is transparent.
"You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever's going on, I'm here to listen without judgment."
Her lower lip trembles. For a moment, I think she's going to bolt. Then her composure cracks completely. Tears stream down her face as she sinks into the nearest desk.
"I don't know what to do," she whispers.
I pull up a chair beside her, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give her space. "Take your time. I'm listening."
The story spills out between sobs. Her boyfriend, a senior, pressured her into sex. She's sixteen and pregnant. Her parents are strict Catholics who will disown her if they find out. Her boyfriend wants her to get an abortion, but she's terrified and confused. She doesn't know what she wants.
My heart breaks as I watch this girl living my nightmare. I was old enough to make my own choices when I found out about the twins, but the fear was still suffocating. Jessica is sixteen and drowning in fear and shame.
"First, you need to know this isn't your fault," I say firmly. "Whatever you decide about this pregnancy, it's your choice. Not your boyfriend's. Not your parents'. Yours."
"But what if I make the wrong choice?" Her voice cracks.
"There's no wrong choice. There's only the choice that's right for you." I pull out a notepad and write down several phone numbers. "These are resources. Counselors who specialize inteen pregnancy. Clinics that offer free medical care and support. People who can help you figure out what you want without pressuring you."
Jessica takes the paper with shaking hands. "Did you ever... I mean, have you ever known anyone who..."
She can't finish the question, but I understand what she's asking. I choose my words carefully, walking the line between offering support and maintaining professional boundaries.
"I've known people who faced similar situations. Some chose to continue their pregnancies. Some didn't. But the ones who did best were the ones who had support and made the choice that felt right for them, not for anyone else."
"Thank you, Miss Wilson." She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. "I was so scared to tell anyone."
"You're not alone, Jessica. Remember that."
After she leaves, I sit in the empty classroom feeling the weight of the conversation. Ten years ago, I was that terrified girl. The difference was that I had my mother's secret support and enough money to disappear. Jessica has neither.
I stare at the closed door, my chest tight. When I found out I was pregnant, I had options—terrible, heartbreaking options, but options nonetheless. My mother quietly helped me arrange my leaving.
Jessica doesn't have that luxury. She'll face judgment from her peers, possibly her family, maybe even the school administration. The father of her baby might step up or disappear. Her whole future hangs in the balance, and unlike me, she might not be able to afford to hide. Not that runningand hiding is the right thing to do. I still don't know if I made the right choice. Seeing my dad, though, makes me feel guilty. I've lot all this time with him because I was scared of telling him about my pregnancy, and that I was pregnant by his best friend. Time that I'll never get back.
I gather my things slowly, my movements mechanical. The parallels are too close, too raw. I remember sitting in that doctor's office, hearing the confirmation, feeling my entire world tilt on its axis. I remember the shame, the fear, the overwhelming sense that my life as I knew it was over.
The drive home is a blur. I navigate the familiar streets on autopilot, my mind stuck in the past. When I pull into the driveway, I sit in the car for a long moment, gripping the steering wheel, trying to center myself.
Inside, the house is chaos in the best way. The boys are doing homework at the kitchen table, arguing about a math problem while the babysitter sits next to them, helping however she can. She looks up and smiles when she sees me, then quietly leaves.