a chance to make it back to my seat. It sends a shot of relief through me that I won't have to sit next to Dante after that super embarrassing moment.
I don't blame him for not wanting to help, I get that he has his own work to do. I wish the teacher hadn’t even asked.
I'm slow going back to collect my things from the table, but Dante is still there, almost like he's waiting for me to return. “Hey, sorry about—”
“Dante!” I hear a shrill voice shout into the door. He turns away and I use the distraction to grab my things, hustle behind him, and around the room. I'm sliding past the blonde girl in the doorway when I hear him almost growl in what sounds like an exasperated, “What?”
I'm out the door, dashing down the hall too fast to hear her response.
I stop at a small diner on the way home. I turned in an application here yesterday and I'm hoping the manger will have had time to look it over, without having a phone for them to call for an interview, I have to be careful enough not to make a pest of myself when checking the status of an application, making sure they know I'm interested in getting the job even though I don't have any contact information. Some places dismiss me immediately, thinking that without a phone or a permanent address I won't be worth the effort. I really hope the diner isn't one of those, because it's in a great location halfway between home and school.
A bell tinkles as I push through the door. Only a few people are sitting at the long counter lined with swiveling stools. Even fewer people are dotted throughout the booths along the windows.
Maggie, the older woman I gave my application to yesterday, smiles when she sees me. I take it as a good sign, it's not the ‘I'm sorry it's not going to work out smile,’ but rather a genuine smile which lights up her face.
“How soon can you start?” She asks when she’s done refilling a cup of coffee for a man sitting up at the bar.
The relief is swift an immediate. “As soon as you need me.”
Three
Wednesday I have a small setback in my plan to fall into obscurity. Somehow, I've gained the attention of cheer girl. I have a sinking suspicion that not only was she the girl from the stairwell, but also the girl from the end of art class yesterday. When you’re constantly looking at the floor, it's hard to recall faces. She's definitely not someone whose radar I want to be on though.
“Hey, new girl. Laura, right?” Her voice is light, but she sounds a little winded. She probably rushed to catch up with me. I turn my head in her direction just enough so she's knows I'm not ignoring her, but not enough to fully focus on her either.
“So what's your story?” I wish she would leave me alone so I could go to the stairwell for my lunch.
“What do you mean?” I sound timid, even to my own ears.
“Well, why'd you move here? Where are you living? Got a boyfriend? Maybe looking for a new one?”
I lift my shoulders in a shrug and answer the only question she really cares about. “No boyfriend, new or otherwise.”
We're getting close to the stairs that lead up to my locker. I'm hoping she'll leave soon so I can go eat my lunch in peace. She stops and turns to face me fully. Most of the other kids are headed in the opposite direction to the cafeteria, so we're mostly alone. “Well I do. Have a boyfriend that is, Dante.”
“That's nice,” I offer in a small voice. I know what she's doing. She really shouldn't bother; I'm no threat to her.
“He told me you were trying to get him to help with your art project.” Her arms get folded over her chest as she stares at me. I don't meet her eyes but give her my full attention. I can't believe he told her that. First off, I didn't ask him for help at all, the teacher did. Heat invades my cheeks, I bet they're already pink.
“The teacher asked him, not me,” I defend, even though I should just let her speak her piece so we can move on.
“Yeah okay,” she says in a mocking tone like she thinks I'm lying. After a few tense moments of us both just standing there, she