guys already stand out plenty, even when they’re wearing basic-ass clothes their mom bought them at Sam’s Club.) Especially if Clem is about to leave me here to survive on my own.
Okay, maybe I also really can’t stand Kyle Meeks and everything he does, and maybe disliking him so much also makes me feel like a colossal jerk. I don’t know. Jury’s still out.
“Room for two more?” asks Kyle, as if summoned by our conversation. He slides in next to me, followed by Alex.
“I guess so,” I say as Clem says, “Of course!”
I slide to the center point of the U-shaped booth seat. Great. Now I’m trapped.
“Nice and cozy,” says Alex.
“So cozy,” Hannah deadpans, and I could kiss her cute little unimpressed face.
Kyle says longingly as he looks at all of our trays and then back to his grilled-chicken salad, “I was bad over the weekend, so salads for me.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “Babe, a burger won’t kill you.”
“No,” says Kyle, “but it will make me fat again.”
I want to slither out of this booth until I’m nothing but a puddle of human irritation on the floor.
“Um, Kyle,” Clem says gently, “maybe you don’t have to say fat like it’s a bad thing.”
Kyle gives her a puzzled look, but continues charging into a conversation about some teacher who dared to give him an A minus.
I wink at Clem, who reaches under the table to squeeze my kneecap.
For the rest of lunch, Clem, Alex, and Kyle chatter back and forth about choir and passing on the Prism torch to the underclass people, and Kyle and Alex’s big plans to be the queer power couple of the century at Rice University this fall.
My mind wanders as I watch them and every other Clover City senior in this restaurant laugh and whisper and hug. All I can think about is Clem leaving me and Lucas choosing someone over me and how these are supposed to be the best years of my life, but how can that even be true? How is that even possible? If you would have told me just a week ago that these were the best years of my life, I would have shrugged and said, “Sure, I guess. It’s not bad, so it must be good.” But this can’t be it? Can it?
“So I told him he has to send the video in,” Kyle says and nudges me in the side. “You’re sending it in, right?”
I throw my arms up. “Yes! Okay? I’m going to send it in. I’m going to show the whole world that a random kid from a little Texas nowhere town can be the Fiercest of Them All. Are you happy?”
Kyle smiles a full twenty-watt smile. He doesn’t get it. He’s too damn noble to even read my sarcasm. “Yes,” he says, like I’ve finally seen the light. “You go, queen!”
I could puke. I could vomit right this moment.
“I gotta go,” I say, and look around for my nearest exit, but I’m quickly reminded that, oh yeah, I’m a huge tall, fat dude stuck in a tiny booth and there’s no chance my butt is going over or under, so I turn back to Kyle. “Excuse me.”
He doesn’t move.
“Excuse me,” I say again as I begin to scoot toward him, until he finally gets it and he and Alex move out of my way.
From across the restaurant, I can hear Tucker laughing loudly, and I know it’s not directed at me, but I can’t stop myself from feeling like I’m the butt of whatever joke has him so entertained.
I go out to the truck and wait for Clem and Hannah to finish their food. Part of me wants to ditch them and let them catch a ride with Kyle and Alex.
After a few minutes, Clem comes outside and whispers something to Hannah, who hangs behind, plopping down on the curb.
Clem leans in through the passenger window and I have so much to say to her that if I make eye contact with her, it will all come spilling out.
“Waylon?” she asks. “What’s the deal? Are you okay?”
I nod. “I’m good.”
“Is it Kyle? I know he can rub you the wrong way sometimes.”
“Yeah,” I tell her as I start the car, and wave an arm out the window to Hannah for her to get in. “He just annoys me sometimes. I don’t get why you like him.”
She opens the door. “I don’t get why you don’t like him.”