at today’s gourmet choices: sloppy joes made with gray chopped meat that looks like it’s been sitting there all weekend, heaped onto a half-stale bun, or “Tacos Fresco,” which is the same gray meat slathered in cheese and sprinkled with lettuce, plopped in a half-stale taco shell.
My stomach roils as I move past the rectangles of main course offerings, fingering the wad of bills in my pocket that I was crazy enough to bring to school. I twist and search for Max in the crush of kids. I wouldn’t have even come to lunch except for the plan to meet him. But he’s not here yet. He rarely comes to lunch anymore.
When we first started dating, I used to sit with him and Bo and Dean and their girlfriends, Angie and Melissa, which was super-uncomfortable, but at least I had someone to sit with, not to mention Meghan and Niccole were equally uncomfortable to be with. At least Angie and Melissa weren’t fake, if they didn’t seem all that interested in having some sophomore hanging out with them. But by spring, they’d all become mostly absent from the premises, plagued by serious senioritis.
“What are you having, dear?” The lunch lady’s voice is impatient. I twist back to her, apologetically, and order.
“I’ll have two side salads.” She gives me an exasperated look. “Sorry. Not that hungry,” I say.
“I’ll have to charge you full,” she says, and I nod, then walk with my tray of wilted lettuce and two mealy tomatoes, looking for somewhere unhostile to sit. Across the cafeteria, I spot Meghan and Niccole by the door, so I stay put at the opposite end of the lunchroom.
I wonder where Aubrey is. Maybe she and those girls had a falling-out. But so what if they did? Screw Aubrey.
People talk, JL …
I don’t need her. I need to stop thinking I do.
At a table against the windowed wall, I spot Tanya and Janee, the girls Aubrey and I used to hang out with in middle school. They’re giggling with Matt Chin and Steven Piscarello, possibly two of the geekiest guys in school.
I steer past them, to the last table, and sit down opposite some stoner girl I don’t know but think may be friends with Bo’s girlfriend. She doesn’t look up or say hello. But she doesn’t tell me to leave her alone, either.
“Hey,” I say, forking lettuce unenthusiastically into my mouth. Her eyes lift and she nods. I guess she isn’t much in the mood for conversation. Fine with me. I’m just biding my time till Max gets here.
I manage to finish the first salad in peace before there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see Aubrey standing there, her face knotted with concern.
“Hey,” she says, her eyes darting to the girl across from me. “Mind if I sit down?” I finger the lump in my pocket, eyes searching for Max.
“Sure, but I was getting ready to go.”
She doesn’t have food or a tray, and when I glance back to where Meghan and Niccole were sitting, they’re gone, so maybe I was right. My chest flutters with momentary hope.
“I only need a minute.” The stoner girl casts us a look, picks up her tray, and leaves. “Sorry, it’s a free country,” Aubrey mutters.
I fork at my second salad, before pushing it away. “So talk,” I say.
“JL … I—Please. I feel bad enough.”
“So don’t.”
“Come on.” She reaches down and touches my knee, but I move it.
“Don’t want you catching anything slutty,” I say. It’s completely juvenile, but I can’t help myself. Hurt has settled like a dead bird, all weight and wings and bones in my throat.
“We’ve always been friends. And you’re not perfect.” I glare at her, and she shakes her head. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. I—I want us to be okay.” I flinch, and she sees it. “Or, not that, I guess, because, of course we are. We will be. I wanted to know that you’re okay.”
“So nice of you. I’m fine. Thanks for checking.”
“That’s it then?” But I don’t answer. I don’t have one. She’s trying, but what am I supposed to say after she basically told me her mother said she should stay away from me? And, anyway, I don’t have time for this. Max is making his way across the cafeteria.
“JL?” Aubrey waits, following my gaze. “Oh, sorry,” she says. “Never mind. I guess, I’ll get going.”
“Sure,” I say, standing. I need to head off Max saying anything that might hint at what