“For what?”
“Judging you. Lecturing you. Whatever other dumb—crap I’ve done to you over the last three years or so,” I admit. “I don’t have any right to look down upon you like I have. I just—I got a little too high and mighty with my morals, and I shouldn’t have. I hope you can forgive me.”
Maggie stares, no doubt shocked by my apology. While I think I say sorry for way too many things, this one is warranted. I need to apologize to a few more people, even Lara and Brooke, but I’m taking this one step at a time.
“I accept your apology,” she finally says, her voice soft.
“Can we still be friends?” I ask hopefully.
She nods, and I pull her in for a hug, squeezing her tight. “If you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I’ll listen to you. And I won’t pass judgment either. I promise.”
Maggie clings to me, her cheek pressed to mine. “Thank you, Wren.”
“What’s up with the hugfest?” Brooke asks, interrupting us. “You hoping some of her purity rubs off on you, Mags?”
I glare at Brooke, hating how easily she tossed that insult at her supposed friend. “As if you have any room to talk,” I say.
“Oh, my bad. Sorry, didn’t mean to insult Miss Perfect.”
“Shut up, Brooke,” Maggie says wearily. “You’re so exhausting sometimes.”
Lara giggles. Brooke glares, just before she pushes away from the table and takes off. Lara soon follows, running after her.
“Why do I hang out with those two again?” Maggie asks me, just before she starts to laugh.
“I don’t know. I hang around them too sometimes, but they’re sort of awful.”
“They’re actually terrible.” Maggie shakes her head and sighs, pushing her tray away from her. “I can’t eat.”
“Why not?”
“So much going on.” Her smile is rueful. “I’d tell you all about it, but we’d need at least five hours.”
“I’ve got nothing but time,” I tell her, reaching out to pat her hand. “Are you and Franklin still broken up?”
“Yeah. He found out about Fig.” And with that one sentence she confirms my suspicions. “He wasn’t too happy about it. He even wanted to tell Headmaster Matthews about it.”
Oh wow. “Did he?”
Maggie shakes her head. “I convinced him not to, at least for now. I don’t know how much longer I can put him off.”
“Why don’t you let him tell? Then at least you have nothing to do with it.”
“Because I’m in love with him, Wren,” she admits.
“Franklin?”
“No. With Fig.” She sighs. “And there’s more.”
God, what more could there be?
“You’ll freak out though,” Maggie continues.
“Just tell me,” I say, needing to know.
Her gaze meets mine, and I can see a myriad of emotions swirling in her eyes. Fear and worry and just the tiniest bit of happiness too. “I’m pregnant,” she whispers.
My mouth falls open as I struggle to respond.
“With Fig’s baby.”