The Carrie Diaries (The Carrie Diaries 1)

The nurse shakes her head and looks at Maggie. “Doctor will see you now.”

“Maggie,” I whisper. “You don’t have to do this. We can go someplace else—”

But Maggie stands, her face resolute. “I have to do it.”

“That’s right, dear,” the nurse says. “Much better to take precautions. I wish all you girls would take precautions.”

And for some reason, she looks directly at me.

Whoa, lady. Take it easy. I’m still a virgin.

But I may not be for much longer. Maybe I should get some pills too. Just in case.

Ten minutes pass and Maggie comes back out, smiling and looking like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. She thanks the nurse profusely. In fact, she thanks her so much I have to remind her that we ought to get back to school. Outside, she says, “It was so easy. I didn’t even have to take off my clothes. He just asked me about the last time I got my period.”

“That’s great,” I say, getting in the car. I can’t get the image of the crying girl out of my head. Was she crying because she was sad or relieved? Or just scared? Either way, it was pretty awful. I open the window a crack and light up a cigarette. “Mags,” I say. “How did you hear about that place? Really?”

“Peter told me about it.”

“How did he know?”

“Donna LaDonna told him,” she whispers.

I nod, blowing smoke into the cold air. I am so not ready for all this.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Hang in There

“Missy!” I say, knocking on the bathroom door. “Missy, I need to get in there.”

Silence. “I’m busy,” she finally says.

“Doing what?”

“None of your business.”

“Missy, please. Sebastian’s going to be here in thirty minutes.”

“So? He can wait.”

No, he can’t, I think. Or rather, I can’t. I can’t wait to get out of the house. I can’t wait to get out of here.

I’ve been telling myself this all week. The “getting out of here” part is unspecified, though. Maybe I simply want to get away from my life.

For the past two weeks, ever since the library incident, the two Jens have been stalking me. They poke their heads into swim practice and make mooing noises when I dive. They’ve followed me to the mall, the supermarket, and even the drugstore, where they had the exciting experience of watching me buy tampons. And yesterday, I found a card in my locker. On the front was a cartoon drawing of a basset hound with a thermometer in his mouth and a hot-water bottle on his head. Inside, someone had written “Don’t” before “Get Well Soon,” followed by, “Wish you were dead.”

“Donna would never do something like that,” Peter protested.

Maggie, The Mouse, and I glared at him.

Peter held up his hands. “You wanted my opinion, that’s my opinion.”

“Who else would do it?” Maggie asked. “She’s the one who has the biggest reason.”

“Not necessarily,” Peter said. “Look, Carrie. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but I can promise you, Donna LaDonna doesn’t even know who you are.”

“She does now,” The Mouse countered.