Unpretty: An Unloved Ones Prequel by Kevin Richey

Author:Kevin Richey [Kevin Richey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 18214075
Published: 2013-07-17T14:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

The doctor leads my mother back into the examination room, and I try to get her to make eye contact with me, but she’s avoiding my glare. What did she mean, my dad wasn’t my real father? She had sex with a stranger? My father is a stranger?

I’m too shaken by this news to listen to anything more the doctor tells me. I am in a daze as another nurse draws blood. We are told the majority of the results should be back by the end of the weekend. Dr. Morris is going to rush the tests. My mother thanks him, and we get back into her car.

Out of habit, I stretch out the seat belt as far as it will go when I sit down. And then I realize I don’t have to anymore, and let it whiz back to a normal size. I strap it across my chest, and my body feels flat against it.

“Mom,” I say. My voice sounds like someone else’s. I must have lost weight in my mouth, too.

She ignores me and starts the car. We back out of the parking space, and the bright sunlight shines through the windshield, making me sleepy.

When we’re at a stoplight, I try again. “Mom, I want to ask you a question, and I don’t want you to get mad.”

She grips the wheel a little tighter.

I continue. “I heard what you said in the hall. About Dad. About him not being my real father.”

The light turns green. It takes her a second to notice. Her shoulders are tense as she grips the steering wheel with both hands. Without signaling, she turns off onto a side street and parks in front of a house with a For Sale sign. She shifts the car into Park, and then returns her grasp to the wheel.

“You were eavesdropping,” she says. She doesn’t look at me.

“That’s not the point,” I protest, but she speaks over me.

“Can’t expect to like everything you hear, can you?” she asks. “Maybe that’ll teach you to mind your own business.”

I hate it when she’s childish.

“But who was he?” I insist. When she doesn’t respond, I try a different tactic. “It might help me understand what’s happening to me. It might explain something.”

She shakes her head. “It wouldn’t explain nothing.”

“Please,” I say softly, going for all the weakness I can exploit. “I don’t like there being secrets between us. We used to be best friends.”

Her shoulders relax, and she turns to me, her eyes getting teary. “We still are, Kathy. I just don’t like talking about it. It makes me feel…” Her eyes look around as she searches for the word. “It makes me feel trashy.”

I force my face not to react. I simply stare and wait for her to continue.

“Anyway,” she says after a moment, “I suppose you’re old enough now to hear it.” She takes her hands from the wheel and fiddles with the keys hanging from the ignition. “The whole night is… hazy. I’ve thought about it many times, and I honestly think I was drugged.

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