June 21, 2012
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“How’s Megan doing these days?” my best friend Luke whispered to me at our bus stop.
“Oh, you know, fine,” I said, trying hard not to give anything away.
“You haven’t talked to her, have you?” Luke spat. He hated it when I didn’t keep in touch with Megan.
“I have other things on my plate, man. I can’t help Megan raise the kid. I have a football scholarship to earn,” I whispered back.
“I can’t believe how selfish you are,” Luke muttered.

We stood in a pregnant silence for the few minutes until the bus rolled up to the corner. We walked up the steps, and sat next to each other like we always did. Or at least, like we had been doing since Megan dropped out of school a month ago to have the baby.

Our other school bus mates noticed the awkward air between us, and tried to engage us both in conversation. One of the boys wanted me to play a game, “annoy the bus driver.”

The boy lifted his arm and pointed at one of the bus drivers, “That one. Throw your pencil at that one,” He snickered.

Luke stared at me with unforgiving eyes as I threw my pencil at the head of the bus driver, who didn’t react to my trickery other than to throw the pencil out her window.

“Why do you care so much anyway? Megan’s my girlfriend, not yours.” I asked.

“You can’t just abandon someone when things get rough. You say you love Megan, but you stop talking to her right after she had the baby? She was counting on you to help her out with the kid. YOUR kid.” Luke said, and I winced.

“Don’t say that.” I muttered lamely.

“After school today, you need to go to her house. You are going to see how she is, see if she needs help from you. You have to help raise that kid.” Luke shouted.

“You know I won’t,” The bus rolled to a stop, and I got up and sprinted out the doors.

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