Chapter Forty Nine - Cody's and Harriet's Breaking Point

The gym buzzed with energy—the rhythmic pounding of sneakers on the polished floor, the snap of pom-poms, and the occasional shout of encouragement. Harriet sat quietly on the cold metal bleachers, her body aching with a heaviness she couldn't shake. The usual thrill of cheer practice was absent, replaced by a dull nausea that gnawed at her stomach and a persistent fatigue that clouded her mind.

She clenched her fists in her lap, trying to focus on the routine the team was running through, but her vision blurred at the edges. Her breath came shallow, and she pressed a trembling hand to her forehead, suddenly feeling the room tilt slightly. She swallowed hard, fighting back the rising wave of dizziness.

Finola, who had been watching from across the gym, quickly crossed the floor and crouched beside Harriet. Her expression was concerned. "H, you look terrible. Are you feeling okay? You've barely joined in today."

Harriet shook her head weakly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know... I just feel really unwell. Like, too sick to practice."

Finola studied her face carefully, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Have you thought about... maybe being pregnant?"

The words hit Harriet like a punch to the gut. Her eyes widened in disbelief. "No. There's no way. That can't be."

Finola gave a small, understanding smile but didn't push. "Sometimes it's better to know for sure. It could explain why you're feeling this way. I always carry a test in bag.. you never really know.."

Harriet hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest as doubt crept in. But beneath the fear, there was a strange relief—maybe if she knew, she could start figuring things out.

"Okay." she finally said, voice barely steady.

Together they walked quickly to the school bathroom. Harriet's fingers trembled as she took the small white test from Finola's outstretched hand. Finola waited outside, giving her space.

The fluorescent light flickered overhead as Harriet locked the door behind her. She leaned against the cool wall, her hands shaking as she read the instructions again and again. Carefully, she prepared the test, every movement slow and deliberate as if she could will away the growing fear in her chest.

The minutes dragged on—endless and torturous—as she sat on the closed toilet seat, heart pounding so loudly it was all she could hear. Time seemed to stretch and warp. When the moment finally came, Harriet's eyes locked onto the two pink lines appearing side by side.

A sharp breath escaped her lips, and the room seemed to close in. Her hands flew to her mouth, trembling as tears welled in her eyes and blurred her vision. She sank down onto the floor, back against the cold tiles, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions: shock, fear, confusion, and an unexpected, fragile hope.

The silence was thick, broken only by her quiet, uneven breaths. Harriet's mind raced—how? When? What now? But beneath the storm, one truth settled deep and undeniable.

She was pregnant.

Harriet stayed on the cold bathroom floor for several long moments, her body trembling and her mind spinning out of control. The two pink lines on the test sat like a weight pressing down on her chest, stealing the air from her lungs. She wanted to scream, to cry, to run—but all she could do was sit there, numb and broken.

What would her parents think?

She was too young to be a mother.

Her hands shook as she pulled her knees close to her chest, burying her face into them. The emotions she'd been bottling up—stress from school and her grandmother, the strain of a possible abortion, the guilt and loneliness—now crashed over her in an unstoppable wave. It felt like the last thread holding her together had snapped.

She thought of her family, her future, her fragile sense of self. How was she going to handle this? She barely felt capable of facing the day-to-day, let alone something this huge.

A sharp sob escaped her throat, then another, until she was crying openly, shaking with the force of it. The tears were both a release and a punishment, a confession she couldn't hold back any longer.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and stood shakily, trying to steady her breath. She stared at herself in the mirror—pale, red-eyed, frightened. For the first time in a long time, she felt utterly, hopelessly alone.

When she finally opened the bathroom door, Finola was waiting anxiously outside. The moment Finola saw her face, her expression softened, and she stepped forward without a word, wrapping Harriet in a gentle, steadying hug.

"I'm scared." Harriet whispered, her voice cracking. "I don't know what to do. I don't know if I can do this."

Finola held her tighter. "You're not alone, H. We'll figure this out together. Whatever you decide, I'm here."

Harriet nodded against her shoulder, the tears still flowing. This was her breaking point—the moment when everything she had tried to control slipped through her fingers. But maybe, just maybe, admitting how broken she felt was the first step toward finding a way forward.

Late afternoon sunlight filtered softly through the tall, narrow windows of St Phillips headteacher's office, casting long shadows across the polished wooden floor. Cody sat in the visitor's chair, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, fingers white-knuckled with tension. The room was quiet except for the ticking of a clock on the wall, each second dragging heavier than the last. Across from him, Mrs Calvert regarded Cody with a mixture of concern and patience. Her posture was calm, but her eyes searched for the boy beneath the surface.

"Cody." She began in a gentle tone, leaning forward slightly, "I wanted to talk because I've noticed some changes recently. Your grades have dropped, you've been missing deadlines, and your teachers say you seem distracted and withdrawn. That's very not like you. What's going on?"

Cody swallowed hard, feeling the lump rising in his throat. His eyes flicked nervously to the floor. "It's... it's everything. Jackson running away... the stuff with Mom and grandma... It's like... I can't concentrate. My head's just always somewhere else."

She nodded slowly, her expression softening. "That sounds incredibly difficult. Have you been able to talk to anyone about how you're feeling? Maybe a counselor or someone you trust?"

Cody shook his head, voice barely audible. "I thought I had to deal with it on my own. I didn't want to look weak. But... I'm not okay. I'm falling apart."

The words hung between them, fragile but heavy with truth. Mrs Calverts face showed no judgment, only understanding. "Cody, it's okay not to be okay. Sometimes the strongest people are the ones who ask for help. You don't have to carry this alone."

Cody bit his lip, a flicker of relief passing through his tired eyes. "I want to try... but it feels like I'm sinking, and there's nothing to grab onto."

Later that evening, the weight of the day pressed down on Cody like a physical burden. He slouched into Millie's small living room, shoulders hunched, eyes avoiding hers. The space was cozy but quiet—too quiet.

Millie studied him quietly for a moment, then reached out, touching his arm gently. "Hey, you've seemed so distant lately. You okay?"

Cody's breath hitched, his voice barely above a whisper. "I told the headteacher today. About Jackson... about how everything's just too much. I thought maybe telling someone would help."

Millie squeezed his arm softly. "That's really brave, Cody."

He looked up, his eyes glassy with exhaustion and something raw—fear, maybe. "But it didn't fix anything. I still feel like I'm breaking. I don't know how to keep going. I'm so damn tired, Millie."

Suddenly, his breathing became erratic. His chest tightened painfully, and a crushing wave of panic slammed into him without warning. His hands trembled violently, and his vision blurred at the edges. Instinctively, he gripped the edge of the couch, knuckles white as his body trembled.

Millie reacted instantly, wrapping her arms firmly around him, steady and grounding. "Cody, look at me. Breathe with me. In... and out. You're safe. I'm here."

His breaths came in short, sharp gasps, but Millie's calm voice and steady touch anchored him as the panic began to ebb, little by little.

Tears spilled from his eyes, his voice breaking. "I'm so scared, Millie. Scared I'm going to disappear. That I'm already too far gone."

"You're not disappearing, Codes." Millie whispered, holding him tight. "You don't have to be strong all the time. We'll get through this—together."

For the first time in weeks, Cody allowed himself to crumble, leaning fully into Millie's support as the sobs shook his body. In that moment, he realised maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as alone as he thought.