Carmelina's sobs were clear through the phone. "Everyone was lookin' at me in school," she said, in halted breaths. "They knew, they knew. They knew where I was going. I'm telling ya, they knew ... Their eyes, I could tell in their eyes."
"What happened with the test?" Bobby said.
"Nobody's ever looked at me like that," Carmelina said. "It was like they knew I was gonna do something really wrong. Was I gonna?"
Bobby covered the receiver and walked out of his bedroom to the top of the stairs. The light in his brother's room was off and everything was quiet downstairs.
"The test, Carmelina," he said. "What happened?"
"How could they know—"
"Carmelina, listen to me," he said, in a forced whisper. "What'd the test say?"
Carmelina didn't answer for a long time. Bobby thought she might have hung up. "Carmelina?" he said. "Carmelina? Are you there? What'd the test say?"
"I don't know," she said, finally.
"What do you mean, 'I don't know'?"
"I ... don't ... know...."
"But you went to the clinic. Maria took you, right?"
"Yeah."
"So what'd they say?"
"This big black woman just kept smiling, telling me everything was gonna be all right. She just kept smiling ... God, I don't know why. This wasn't a place for smiles. But she did. The kind of smile that was trying to hide somethin' real bad ... I was so scared, Bobby, so scared."
"I know, I know," Bobby said. "I'm sorry you were scared—"
"Too scared."
"What do you mean?"
"I left."
"You left?"
"Maria took me home. I couldn't do it."
Bobby wanted to throw the phone through his bedroom window. "You gotta go back. This is serious, Carmelina. You can't just leave it alone. It won't go away. Tell Maria she's gotta bring you there again."
There was a long pause before Carmelina spoke again. "I'll go next week," she said, but the lie was clear in her voice.
"I don't believe you," he said. "Next time you'll just leave again. Maybe not even go."
"Then, you take me."
Bobby sat down on his bed.
"See?" Carmelina said. "You don't wanna bother. Just go on living your life, forget about me. And don't you worry, Bobby, I'll go next week to the clinic and I'll get the test done. And know what? Maybe I'll tell you whether you're gonna be a father or not. It's not your worry."
"Not my worry?"
"I'll deal with it."
"No, no forget it," Bobby said. "I'll take you next week. Tuesday night after practice. After you're done with work. I'll pick you up at the mall. I'll tell my parents I'm going to Kenny's, studying or lifting or something like that. They'll never know. Okay? Carmelina ... Carmelina, are you there?"
"Yeah."
"I'll take you, understand? But you gotta promise me you'll go."
"Bobby, I'm scared."
He rubbed his eyes. "I'm scared, too." And he was—damn scared. "We'll go together."