White As A Lie

1: 8 to 3

I sat across from the two teenagers I had been seeing for two weeks now. One boy, one girl, they needed to talk to me about how to tell their friend that they were dating.

"And I just don't know how to tell my parents that I'm pregnant."

Oh right. There's that too.

"Your friend deserves to know the truth. The sooner you tell her, the better it'll be. As for your parents...well, they deserve the truth, too. I mean, you can only hide that for so long." I chuckled a little.

Neither of them lightened up.

I cleared my throat. "So just be upfront with everyone. Julia may be upset at first, but if she's a true friend, she'll come around."

Tiffany, with her baggy burgundy shirt and sweat pants, stood. She wore a black beanie that was slightly darker than her hair. Her nose ring sparkled in the fluorescent lighting in my office. "Julia and Quinton dated for three years," she gestured to the boy beside her. "She'll never forgive me."

"Now, you don't know that-"

"No, she won't. I started hanging out with my cousin too much, and she got jealous. My cousin's a guy who lives in New England! I don't get to see him often." Quinton spoke up for the first time this week. It was Thursday.

I sighed and leaned back in my chair, glancing between the two of them. Quinton had dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. Today he wore a dark gray hoodie and ripped jeans. "Just be open. You'll feel better if you do," I look at the clock. "Now get back to class."

They grabbed their bags and shuffled out. From the very first day I had been telling them to just tell the truth to everyone. I thought they were going to, but that was before we found out Tiffany was pregnant.

"Mr. McCain?" a knock on the door is followed by a small voice.

I looked up. "Steven. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if I could change my classes." He stuck his head in.

"Sure. C'mon in." He walked in and sat in the chair Tiffany had been sitting in not a full minute ago. "What class are you wanting to change out of?"

"Weights. Is welding open?" He asked. His brown hair was covered by the black fedora he always wore. His blue eyes were lighter than the rims of his rectangular glasses.

I smiled a little. "It is. How did you end up in weights in the first place?" Steven has always voiced his dislike for anything physical, although he's in great shape.

He rolled his eyes. "My dad. He made me choose it when I was enrolling."

I nodded. "Well, welding is open. Have you taken welding your whole high school career?"

Steven smiled and laughed a little. "Yeah. It's my comfort zone, I guess. Mr. Gales and I get along well, and I know what to expect."

I smiled at him. "How about that other problem? Is it getting better?"

His happy face wavered, but didn't fade completely. "Not really."

I nodded. "I'm here if you need me, you know that."

He nodded once, then began to back out of the room. "Thank you, Mr. McCain."

"No problem." I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable. His parents were going through a divorce right now, and he had to go to court nearly every week to see if his father would lose custody of him. As horrible as it sounds, I hoped his father would lose all custody. I can't count the times Steven has come in here with stories of his mother being beaten. Sometimes Steven would have a black eye himself.