No Blood, No Love, No Obligation

I didn't have time to socialize at school.

Even with the SAT looming, I spent my lunch breaks collecting recyclables every day, running errands to buy lunch for my classmates, or sitting in the corner of the sports field copying lines for students who refused to do their homework, charging them a dollar for every 1,000 words.

But I never expected Harper to corner me against a wall with a group of her friends while I was in the middle of picking up plastic bottles.

She pulled out a slip from the pocket of her school uniform. It was the loan agreement I had signed for Dad just two days ago.

The slip read. "Cash advance for next month's tampon expenses."

"See? I wasn't lying!" Harper announced. "I told you all the truth. Maddie Cooper here has to borrow money from my dad just to buy tampons.

"She's so young, but she's completely wasted and owes our family over 600 thousand dollars. A parasite like her is deeply in debt before she's even earned a single dime. Who knows how she's squandering her money behind our backs?

"I'm serious! If any of you hang out with her, be careful because she might steal your money!"

It turned out that Harper had been using me as gossip material for her friends.

As classmates around us began whispering and pointing at me, my face instantly flushed red.

Tampons.

Having Harper broadcast my private business out loud in front of everyone made me so embarrassed that I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole.

My eyes were red-rimmed as I lunged forward to grab the slip, but she held it high above her head.

Later, she showed it to the teenage boys in school and pinned it to the school's bulletin board.

"Everyone should see the true colors of the top student in our grade. What's the point of getting excellent grades when you're barely an adult and 607,300 dollars in debt? She's rotten to the core!"

That afternoon, I became the laughingstock of the entire school, and "the girl who buys tampons on credit" became my label.

A teacher, Wendy Stone, summoned both Harper and me into her office.

Wendy was a responsible and dedicated woman. She furiously called Harper out for her disrespectful behavior, then dialed our parents' numbers.

Soon, Mom and Dad arrived.

Dad was dressed in a tailored suit, looking well-refined and well-mannered. The first thing he did when he entered the office was to apologize to Wendy like a highly educated gentleman.

But when Wendy carefully brought up "protecting a teenage girl's privacy with family education" and "ensuring basic living necessities", Dad pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled.

"You've misunderstood, Ms. Stone. This is financial literacy training within our household.

"Maddie has never had a proper understanding of money since she was a kid. Our family follows a bill split in household expenses, so she signed personal loan agreements, designed to teach her survival skills and independence."

Wendy was left speechless.

After we left the office and arrived at a deserted corner of the hallway, the smiles vanished from Mom's and Dad's faces.

When Dad checked the time on his phone, Mom immediately understood and began scolding me.

"Maddie, because of the trouble you caused at school, your stepdad and I had to take an hour off work to handle it.

"His hourly rate is 500 dollars, and mine is 300 dollars, plus 50 dollars for wear and tear on the car. That brings the total to 850 dollars."

Mom scribbled the numbers down and added, "This bill will go on your tab. It's for the additional time costs you inflicted on us."

That was how my debt grew again.

…

On our way home, Harper happily held hands with both Dad and Mom, while I was left lagging far behind them.

Suddenly, she turned around and stuck her tongue out at me, grinning.

…

At the dinner table that evening, Mom suddenly threw her hands over her mouth, retched, and bolted into the bathroom.

Dad was briefly stunned before his eyes lit up, and he even dropped his spoon.

"Julia!" he yelled and rushed over to pound on the door. "What's wrong? Are you—"

That guess was quickly verified at the hospital. Mom was pregnant at the ripe age of 42 with Dad's biological child.

As Mom ran her hand over her belly, her face was flushed with a radiant, blissful glow. The impending arrival of the token of their love left her and Dad in a great mood.

Dad turned to me and announced, "Our household resources have to be strategically restructured to guarantee the optimal development and care of our newest addition.

"So, Maddie, your bedroom will be renovated into a nursery for your future younger brother."

My heart lurched, and I asked, "W-Where am I supposed to sleep then?"