Cherie was in the bathroom doorway in a minute, of course, and had to comment. "What in the world... no, stop pinching the bruise, Peach! It's going to make it hurt worse. I'm going to get you some ice."

I stood there in the mirror, looking at my face. It was swollen and the bruises were every damn color in the rainbow. The rest of my body wasn't as bad, but Minter had sucker-punched me in a few places that I would have rather he didn't.

I sat there on the toilet, stripping off my shirt, throbbing with pain but not knowing what to do. Cherie was taking her time bringing me that ice. In a minute, I was going to have to go down there myself and get it.

It wasn't necessary. As soon as I made up my mind to go to the kitchen myself, I heard voices on the stairs. "Well, why can't I see him now? I need to talk to him... oh, my God! Quentin?" Quiana came rushing into the bathroom. "What happened?"

"Your daddy did this to me just before I was coming to see you," I said dryly. "Ain't it an improvement?"

"He what? Oh, no! We have to get him to a hospital, Cherie!"

I was in so much pain I didn't argue. "Cherie, you know where I keep my car keys at. And Qui, I hope you know how to drive a stick."

I went upstairs and laid down across my bed. Quiana sat down on the very edge of it. "I'm sorry this happened."

"Ain't your fault," I said generously, exhaling loudly. "You wasn't the one that kicked my a--."

"I did do it. I told him that you did it."

That reminded me. "When he was jumping me, he was talking some yang about me raping you. Where the hell did he get that idea from?"

She looked me squarely in the face. "I told him that, Quentin."

I rolled my eyes, groaning at the pain in my eyelids. "Guess you think I deserved all this, hmph?"

"No. He didn't have to beat you up. Or do this."

Quiana was touching a black and blue bruise that went from her cheek to her chin. I had been hurting so bad I hadn't noticed. "That's what I got. If I hadn't told him that, I would have gotten more."

"He hit you?"

"He always hits me when he's mad. That's why I've been careful not to get him mad. It's worked... he hasn't lit into me since I was thirteen."

I sat up and ran my fingers over the dark mark on her face. She gritted her teeth. Then I laid back down. "He should've killed me. Cause if I ever see him again, he'll be the one..."

"Quentin, my father is a retired army drill sergeant."

"So?"

"He's crazy. And he's dangerous."

"And you have to go back there tonight."

"I'm not ever going back there. Once he finds out that I lied, he'll make my life miserable. And I can't let him hit me again. I'm pregnant."

Before I thought about it, my right hand was resting on her plump abdomen. For the first time I realized that my child, my baby was in there. Inside her.

"How many months?"

"Six."

"So it was the first time."

"Had to have been."

My hand moved to caress the other side of her face. "Do you know what it is?"

"A boy."

The thought was too much for me to take all at once. A girl was one thing. A boy was another. I was going to have a son... it was too damn ridiculous. I didn't even feel all that grown myself. How the hell was I going to teach a little boy what being a man was all about when I didn't know that much about it myself?

"So you ain't going home. Where you planning on staying?"

"I don't know. I was going over Geneva's. She said it was all right. But I don't know... I don't want to be over there. I have a little money. I was thinking about going to California to stay with my mother and stepfather."

"You can't go clear across the country when you got a baby on the way and school to finish."

She took her ponytail holder off and ran her hands through her thick, crinkly hair. "I know I don't have any options. But I don't know what to do."

"You can stay here where you belong, that's what you can do," I heard myself say. Was I crazy? I had enough problems without Aynie kicking the remainder of my a--. And I was only seventeen. It would almost be like having a family. I wasn't ready for it.

Quiana knew this. "Where would I stay?"

I couldn't think of anywhere that had enough room. "In here."

"Yeah? And I'm supposed to sleep on the floor?"

"Cherie got a daybed in her room. She don't use it."

"Your aunt and uncle wouldn't like it."

"I don't give a damn about what they don't like. If they say no, we'll go back to Georgia and live with my mama."

"Why are you doing all this?"

"Because I care about what happens to this baby of mine. And you."

"It took my daddy to beat you half to death to say that?"

"I was on my way over to talk to you when that happened. Just should have done it earlier."

"Quentin," she said, laying down gently on my chest and putting her legs up on the bed, "I'm scared. What are we going to do after we graduate?"

"I don't know," I said honestly, putting my arms around her, stroking her forehead and trying to make some sense out of all this.

Cherie came into the room without knocking, which is what she usually does anyway. "Peach, Aynie Rosemary and Unc's home and they said they want to see both of you... oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"You're not," Quiana said, sitting up. "I need to go down and talk to her, too."

"Well, it seems to me like y'all backed yourselves into a corner," she said frankly. "You went out there fooling around, and now you got a hell of a responsibility on the way. Lord, Lord Jesus."

She finished her plate, pushed it away, and looked straight at me. I had to turn another way. I felt like I had disappointed her deep down. How long had I cared who I made unhappy? I knew the answer to that. It was before my daddy passed.

"Mrs. Petion," Quiana began, "I'm not sure what to do."

"Ain't nobody expecting you to know. You seventeen years old, girl! Women twice your age getting to be mothers are anxious. Well, I don't know about you staying here. I'm supposing my husband won't mind, least till the baby's born and y'all graduate."

Unc cleared his throat and finally start talking. "I've decided on how we'll handle this. First, if you stay here, Quiana, we cannot allow you to sleep in my nephew's room. You can sleep on the daybed in Cherie's room until the baby is born if she agrees."

Cherie shrugged. "I don't care. She's welcome."

"Once the baby comes, you can continue to sleep in the same place. However, I don't think that it's fair to Cherie to have the bassinet in her room. So we'll keep that in Peach's room."

"Why don't she just sleep in my room?" I wanted to know.

"Cause you ain't married," Aynie told me.

"Another thing. We'll waive your rent until June since you're completing your education, but I'd advise you to start looking for work now, Peach. I'm going to charge you $250 a month in rent."

"What?" both Quiana and I said incredulously. Aynie agreed about the rent. "You all got yourselves in trouble with these grown-up games. You got to pay to play, dear. Two twenty-five is more than fair, cause you can't get a room in a roach motel for that."

Unc continued just like I hadn't said a word. "You have your own phone line, Quentin. You will have to pay for that. Your other utilities will be covered by the rent unless you use them excessively. You're going to also have to pay to keep up your car, too."

"No more gas or mechanic money," Aynie explained.

"The last condition will be this. Although we are quite upset over the circumstances in which you are having this baby, we are pleased with the fact that we will have a great- nephew soon. We will be praying for an easy time for you, Quiana, and hope the baby is healthy. We will try to make him as comfortable as possible. However, the responsibility for the child rests with both of you."

"You will be his parents," Aynie picked up the thread, "and you will have to support him financially. That means diapers, clothes, formula, doctor visits. We'll throw you a baby shower, Quiana, and we'll buy you some furniture and things."

"But this baby is yours. Another thing. You'll be working, Peach. After you recover, Quiana, you will have to. Someone must stay with the baby. Your aunt and I are running a franchise... don't look at Cherie," he snapped, because he saw our eyes were darting that way. "She's still in school."

"I won't mind, Unc," she said. "Nikki's aunt Lana is moving in with her daughter this summer. She won't be working, so maybe the baby can stay with them during the day. Then, when I get home from school, I can help out…"

"Cherie-girl, let's get something straight right now. We all know how sweet you are, but that ain't your baby. It's theirs. So don't go planning your life around that child," Aynie told her.

"One last thing," Unc mentioned. "We're going to have to talk with Mr. Minter. Quiana, when is your eighteenth birthday?"

"June nineteenth," she said.

"Yes, we're going to have to talk with him. Well, that's all. Peach, put some more ice on your face. Cherie, show Quiana where she can put her things."

Aynie and Unc looked at him like he didn't believe he was for real. Cherie rested her face in her hands, shaking her head and sighing under her breath. I let Quiana lean against me; she was still crying from when her parents told her what they had decided.

I continued to stare at them. I ain't never heard of no black folks disowning anybody. True, Quiana's mama looked half white, and her husband, a Thomas Grady, was your typical good ol' boy, but I wondered what the hell was wrong with Quiana's daddy.

"But this is your grandchild," Aynie said fiercely.

"We did give birth to Quiana Michelle, that is true," Mrs. Danielle Minter-Grady said. "But we do not wish to acknowledge a child born out of wedlock. It is a disgrace."

"You cannot be serious, madame," Unc sputtered. "This is your flesh and blood. You are disrepecting your own flesh and blood if you deny this baby."

"She made her choice," Mr. Minter repeated.

Beatrice Matthews, his girlfriend, tried to reason with him. "Bart, don't you think..."

"Shut up!" he shouted. "Quiana is not your daughter. She is not your responsibility. Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

Unc jumped up. "You will not disrespect anyone in my house, sir. As you said, Quiana has made her choice. Therefore, I want you out of my house."

"Gladly," Mr. Minter growled. "Beatrice, come on!"

Beatrice was kissing Quiana on the cheek. "If you need anything, dear, just call me."

Mr. and Mrs. Grady stood up. "We must be going. Quiana, you know where to contact us."

When they all had left, Aynie swept Quiana up and patched her hurt feelings up with that motherly touch that she had for all of us.

Everybody at the table except me (Gary, Aurelio, Geneva, and Maxine) stared at her plate in disbelief. She's seven months pregnant and a walking beach ball. Always complains that her back hurts. Anyway, her plate was piled up with a taco salad, chicken wing dings, a fat deli pickle, a cup of lime jello with strawberries, tapioca pudding with chocolate sprinkles, a package of King Dons, a bag of hot sauce chips, and two cartons of milk.

She was almost done with all of it.

"At least you're eating a balanced diet," Wendy said. We cracked up.

"This isn't funny. Quentin, where is he getting this appetite from? You don't eat a whole lot, and neither do I. All this food is making me sick... oh!"

"What's wrong, girl?" Geneva said, as she slumped over on me.

"I don't know. All of a sudden, I had this sharp pain. I'm fine, I guess. Probably ate too much."

Wendy went over to get Mrs. Holbek. She's a white teacher that always supported the BAC, and Qui after she got pregnant. "Quiana, sweetheart, are you all right?"

"What does a contraction feel like?"

"An acute, sharp pain. But I thought you were only seven months pregnant."

"I am..."

All of a sudden, we all heard a waterfall under the table. My first thought was that somebody had spilled a drink.

"Oh, my God!" she screamed in terror. The whole cafeteria died down. So she said softer, "My water just broke."

I threw down my fork. "What?"

"We have to get you to the hospital immediately," Mrs. Holbek said urgently. "I can't leave without getting someone to cover my class."

"I'll take her," I said. "It's my baby, too."

"Naw, man," Gary said. "Who the hell got a car... `ey, C.B.!"

He came over from where he was sitting. His eyes were cold. "Yeah, man. What you need?"

"She's having the baby, obviously," Geneva snapped.

Angelo hesitated. He grabbed his car keys out of his pocket. "I'll drive. You can stay in the back seat with Qui. Wendy or `Neva, one of y'all might want to come along."

"I can't," Geneva said. "I got a pre-cal test next hour. But I'll be over there soon as I finish."

"I'll go," Wendy said. "Qui, stop crying! You'll be fine and the baby will too!"

Cherie ran over. "What's wrong? Are you having the baby?"

"I guess so," Geneva said, sarcastically.

"Then I’m going, too."

I didn't like that idea. "No, Cherie. Stay in school... come on, baby, we're gonna get you to the hospital."

"I didn't ask you," she said firmly. "I said I'm coming."

Continued…

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