Stalked by Juanita Ray

Stalked by Juanita Ray

Although I only have a grade eight education, thanks to home economics, I know how to cook a can of soup and how to feed a fake baby. So what can possibly go wrong?
But my story doesn't begin here, so let me share it from the start.
Weird is the best word, to describe the shy quiet boy peering at me from between the chip racks. What normal person enters a shop, hides behind a chip stand, and spends half an hour peering between the bags? My roommate thinks it's flattering, but then again she thinks combing Clorox through your hair and ironing it with a red hot clothing iron, are ultimate beauty tips.I'm official government property, which means they typically ignore me, but that's all changing now that I'm pregnant. The government is adamant I go to an unwed mother's home and give the baby up for adoption, while my foster mother insists I stay and have the baby, knowing she'll get paid to keep it as a foster. My roommate believes she and I should elope with the boys in our lives and co-rent a cheap apartment and my boyfriend's mother wishes I would disappear from the face of the earth, which, frankly at this point, seems like an excellent thought.
Fifteen, pregnant, Anglican, and a foster child, aren't great ingredients for a good wife recipe, especially considering her son is an up-and-coming Catholic teacher. She believes her son can do much better than me, and welfare trash is far below her standards, for any daughter-in-law.I plan to prove her wrong.My biggest concern is how to become a good liar, because according to my soon-to-be husband, I'll have to be a great one, regarding my age, if I'm going to be the fifteen-year-old wife of a teacher.