The next day, I ask Teri and Heavenly if they wanna go to the diner. I have something important to tell them. I remember the way Teri looked when I told her about keeping Angelo. How her forehead got all these wrinkles I’d never seen. How she wouldn’t look me in the eye. My girls have gone all out for me. Letting me crash with them. Hiding it from their mamas. Keeping my secret. They’re the closest thing Angelo and I have to family. They deserve to know.

I leave the school library in the middle of last period. Everyone else is still in class. I wait for Ter and Hev at the deli two blocks away, the one owned by a Korean family. Hardly anyone we know goes there. We walk down Broadway together. Some white-haired viejito teeters on a ladder in front of a locksmith store, stringing green and red lights over the awning. The butcher next-door advertises Thanksgiving turkeys that are free-range or pre-brined. I don’t know what that means. The only turkey we ever ate was frozen from the supermarket, purchased the day of on special. It was past midnight by the time we had dinner. The thing was cooked. But just barely. Toto was the only one who finished his. Probably ’cause he has to share Carmen’s bed and didn’t want to be out on the couch. Can’t say I blame Abuela for not wanting to repeat the experience.

Heavenly has my arm. She’s pulling me across the street as the light goes yellow. We pass a group of guys hanging in front of a lottery shop. One of them must’ve scratched off a win ’cause they’re hooting, “¡Qué cheposo!” and high-fiving. Santa and snowmen and reindeer peer at us from Rite Aid’s windows. Holiday candy’s on sale. Two for six dollars. The idea of chocolate wakes my stomach. It wakes Angelo. I slide my hand under my belly, remind him where we’re headed. But I can’t help looking inside for those bright plastic bags of foil-covered candies. Fake evergreen streamers, huge yellow bells, and ornaments hang from the cookies-’n’-cream ceiling. That’s what Yaz and I used to call it. Those white foam tiles flecked with bits of black made us think of vanilla and crushed Oreos. Once, when we was in the store giggling about it, we got so hungry we stole a pint. Snuck it out under Yaz’s shirt, ate it on a bench by the river, passing a spoon we’d snatched from Starbucks back and forth.

Teri swings the door to the diner open and waits for me to go first. The warmth of the restaurant hits my face, making my cheeks feel like they’re right up against a space heater. My fingers are strips of ice against them. Our usual booth is open, but I head for the back. Sitting by the window seems like asking for trouble, no matter it’s too early for Jo-jo or Bertie or Yaz to be here. The smell of roasted chicken, fried potatoes, and plantains makes Angelo go wild. The two of us, we’re always starving. I asked my girls to meet me because I’m gonna tell them what Doc told me. I asked them to meet me here, at Reme’s, because I’ve been dying for their breaded fried steak and I’m hoping one of them brought cash to cover it. I know that makes me a big, fat puta. But I figure they’ve known me for years. They know I’m a puta.

The fake red leather of the bench squeaks as I slide my fat ass over it. Didn’t use to make that noise. But my ass didn’t used to be this fat. Didn’t even used to have an ass. I poke my belly. “It’s your fault,” I tell Angelo, but I’m smiling.

My girls slide in opposite. Hev unzips her silver puffer coat, tucks it behind her. She folds the fur collar in so it don’t get dirty. Underneath, she’s got this fluffy vest with tassels hanging down. It’s cool-looking, but it sheds. Hev’s lips purse as she picks gray fuzz off her black turtleneck. Teri’s sitting straight-backed, her plain-sweatered shoulders pressed to the seat, hands under her jeaned thighs. She’s watching me, but not watching me, you know? Her eyes going from my face to my bitten stubs of nails to the table, back to my face again. She still wears her hair up even though I’m not there every morning to give her confidence about it. I’m glad. She looks more grown-up this way.

“¿Pero dónde está el mesero? I’d die for un cafecito.” Hev flicks a final fuzz from her arm. She glances at the kitchen.

Teri pushes a menu toward me. “You want anything to eat?” She doesn’t like that I’ve been skipping lunch. But what else am I gonna do? I’m not parading myself into that cafeteria. Anyway, I’ve gotten used to my five-hour naps in the library.

I don’t take the menu. But Hev does. She brings it right up under her nose. I take the edge of the plastic-covered paper, pull it back down to the table.

“You found yourself your own doctor yet?” I ask her. “For these?” I point to my eyes.

Hev blows out her lips and snorts. Her open palms frame her face. “This ain’t made for no glasses.”

I glance at Ter. “You been taking notes for her in class?” Teri turns the menu toward me. “Same as I do for you. Now order something. I’ll pay.”

I don’t say nothing more. Teri gives me a smile. But it’s one of those mouth-only smiles. She’s sitting on her hands again.

The waiter comes. We order two coffees, one apple juice, and a bistec empanizada. As he’s walking away, Hev calls out for an order of maduros. I love those sticky, sweet roasted bananas. Hev looks at me and winks.

“So,” she says, smoothing down the tassels of her vest. “¿Qué lo qué?”

“Yeah.” Teri brings her hands to the top of the table. She laces them together. “What’s up?”

I scratch at my lip then tell them what Doc told me. Teri’s head is making mini up-and-down movements, like one of those bobbleheads on a car dash. She does it when she’s concentrating hard. Her mouth is a tiny open circle. She’s squeezing her fingers tight. Hev’s staring down at her coffee. She drags the spoon around and around. It clinks against the mug. She hasn’t even put any sugar in it yet.

My steak comes. I lean back, shift against the hard plastic. The food looks real good. Smells good, too. But I’m not hungry anymore.

Hev mutters something. She grabs her bag and starts to rummage. She slams her phone on the table. Next comes her wallet. Her keys. Makeup. She wads a tissue into her fist. She’s shaking her head. Like she’s angry at the bag. Like it lost something or ate something really important.

She wraps the tissue around her finger. She looks to the ceiling and holds real still as she swipes the tissue under her eye. She opens her eyeshadow case, brings the mirror close, blinks a bunch of times. She mutters again. I thought she was swearing, but it’s a prayer. She’s praying.

Teri doesn’t move. Her hands are in front of her, fingers tangled. A tear falls from one eye. It drops down her cheek. She sniffs real loud. She takes a breath, sits forward. She notices I’m not eating and tilts her head at me. Her bottom lip wobbles. “Pero, Mari,” she says. “Por favor.” She untangles her hands, pushes her open palm toward my food. “Eat.”

I take a breath, too. I hate that it’s not steady. I grab a fork. I grab it so tight it feels like a knife. I spear a chunk of gooey banana. I shove it in my mouth. There. Now I can’t talk. Can’t cry.

“Todo ’ta bien. Everything will be okay.” Heavenly’s looking at my belly. At my hand on my belly. I’m dragging it around and around, circling Angelo like Hev’s spoon was circling her coffee cup. I hadn’t even noticed I was doing it.

“When are you gonna tell Bertie?” Teri’s voice is quiet. More tears leak out her eyes. Her hands are at her neck, massaging the cross.

I spear another maduro quick. I shake my head.

“Mari. You have to,” Teri says. Heavenly turns to her. “You know, he still asks about you.” Teri wipes her cheek.

I swallow. The bite scrapes on the way down. I should have chewed more. “When?” I ask, clearing my throat.

Heavenly lifts her eyebrows. She’s still looking at Teri.

“Like every day. I see him every day.”

Teri talks with Bertie every day? ¿Qué? What? “What you been telling him?” I take up the knife.

“I tell him you need time. I haven’t told him about Angelo. That’s for you to tell.”

I jab the knife into the steak. I saw off pieces.

“It’s not fair to him,” Teri says. “You’re not being fair to him.”

Hev puts a hand on Teri’s arm. She’s staring at her. It’s a look I would give.

Teri frowns at the table. Her hand takes hold of the gold cross again.

I shovel a bite of steak into my mouth. I don’t want to say anything. If I do, it won’t be good.

Teri pulls her purse toward her. She takes out five twenties. Lays them on the table. It’s way too much for the steak and plantains.

“I know it’s your choice. But he gives me money. Makes me promise to use it on you. For you.”

I stop chewing. I want to spit the meat into my napkin.

“Does he know?” I say, my mouth still full.

“Like I said, I haven’t told him about the baby. But he’s not stupid, Mari. He knows something’s up. He knows you’re not staying with your abuela no more. He knows you’re skipping class. He’s worried about you.”

I grab my glass of juice, force myself to swallow. If he’s so worried, he could find me. He could tell me that himself. I know I told him to leave me alone. But that was over a month ago.

I look at the food on my plate. It’s getting cold. It doesn’t look or taste good anymore.

Teri and Hev are both watching me. Teri’s chin is jutted out a little. Her hands are back under her legs. Hev is looking at me like she’s trying to tell me something. Like she’s begging me to listen to what she can’t say right now.

Teri offered to pay. But really it’s Bertie who’s paying. I don’t want to eat food from Skinner’s plate.

I should scream at Teri. For tricking me. For taking Bertie’s side against me.

Angelo kicks. Hard. I gasp and my hand goes to my waist.

“You okay?” Hev is on her feet. She’s reaching across the table for me.

Teri’s crying again. But it’s just tears. She’s making no noise.

“I’m fine,” I say. I lift half my mouth, give them a smile like Doc’s. One that says I’m a rock star and everything’s gonna be cool even though you’re freaking out over there.

I make myself eat the steak. I make myself not scream, not talk. Because it’s what Angelo needs.

I did what I came to do. I told my girls. That’s all I’m going to do. That and take care of Angelo.