The hallway hums with the chatter of students and the metallic slam of lockers. Kyle stands at his own, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring at Danielle. Her eyes dart nervously from his face to the floor. Her voice barely rises above a whisper.


“I’m pregnant. I took the test this morning.”


The words hang in the air like smoke—heavy and choking. Kyle exhales sharply, his shoulders sagging as he drops his head.


“Well,” he mutters, glancing around to make sure no one’s listening, “we need to get this handled. We can’t have a baby right now. I’m leaving for Denver in a couple of weeks.”


Danielle’s lips tremble. “Can you ask your uncle if I can come with you? I can keep the baby. We can make it work, Kyle. I want this baby.”


Kyle lifts his hand and grazes her cheek with his thumb, but there’s no warmth in the gesture. His eyes are cold, detached.


“If you have this baby,” he says quietly, “we’re finished.”


Danielle’s stomach twists. She takes a step back, the hallway suddenly too bright, too loud.


“I can’t have another abortion,” she says, her voice cracking. “This will be our third one. I’m not doing it again.”


Kyle shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Oh well.”


He turns away, slinging his backpack over one shoulder, and jogs off toward his next class—leaving her standing there, surrounded by laughter and footsteps that sound miles away.


Danielle feels the world spinning without her. The bell rings, sharp and shrill, but she doesn’t move. For a long moment, she just stares at the floor, her chest tightening. Finally, she forces herself toward class, each step feeling heavier than the last.


When she slips into the room, Ms. Johns looks up from her desk.


“Nope,” the teacher snaps. “You’re tardy. Go to the office and get a pass.”


“Please, Ms. Johns,” Danielle says softly, her voice frayed. “I don’t feel like walking all the way up there.”


The teacher’s lips press into a thin line. She just points at the door.


Something inside Danielle snaps. She slams the door behind her so hard the walls seem to shake.


“Don’t even bother coming back!” Ms. Johns shouts after her.


Danielle keeps walking. Her shoes squeak against the linoleum, echoing down the hallway. Her chest feels tight, her throat dry, her eyes burning.


At the office, the scent of coffee and floor wax greets her. The front desk clerk glances up, eyebrows arched.


“Ms. Johns just called,” she says flatly. “The principal will see you in a bit.”


Danielle doesn’t respond. She sits down, staring at the dull pattern on the floor tiles, repeating the conversation she had with Kyle.


The principal waves her into his office.


“Have a seat,” he says, not looking up from his computer. “You’re suspended for three days for disrespecting your teacher.”


Her heart sinks. “I’ve never been in trouble before. I’m just… having a really bad day. Can you give me detention instead?”


He finally looks up, his eyes sharp and impatient. “No. We don’t tolerate disrespect in this school. Call your ride and we’ll see you back on Monday.”


He turns back to his screen, dismissing her.


Danielle stands, her chair scraping the tile. As she walks out, his voice trails after her.


“Please close my door.”


She pauses, looks back, and then—without a word—leaves it open.

At the front desk, she reaches for the phone, and the principal steps out of his office, irritation etched across his face.


“Nope. Don’t give her the phone. You disrespected your teacher, and now you’re disrespecting me. You can find your own way home.”


Danielle’s mouth falls open. “I live thirty minutes away! I need a ride.”


“Leave,” he says firmly, “before you get into more trouble.”


Her pulse pounds in her ears. She slings her backpack over her shoulder, the weight of it dragging her down. Without another word, she walks out of the building, the autumn air biting at her skin.


As she steps off school grounds, one thought anchors itself in her mind—

I’m never coming back.