started filling up my tray with various healthy options, like an apple and bottled water. Lunch could not get more exciting than that….
“Hey,” Chase came up behind me, startling me a bit.
“Hey,” I offered back and then resettled the bottle of water I had tipped over in my jumpiness. “So, that’s cool, we have lunch together.”
“Looks like it,” he smiled, his eyes twinkling with interest.
Ok… so my mojo still worked with him? I didn’t get it.
What was going on with the mystery-coffee-spilling office attendant then?
“Where are you sitting?” I paid for my meager lunch, hating that I couldn’t stop eyeing the cheese fries. I mean they were products of a high school cafeteria; they were going to be awful. Still… they didn’t look awful, they didn’t smell awful and they’re nearly neon yellow processed cheese topping practically had my mouth drooling.
“Is that all you’re getting?” Chase looked down at my mostly empty tray.
“Uh, no?” I gave into the cravings that were haunting me and grabbed a granola bar without paying for it as I followed him through the lunchroom. It wasn’t cheese fries, but I hoped it would at least tide me over until dinner. It would be just me and my mom tonight so I had a super yummy bare as could be salad to look forward to.
Yum. Lettuce.
A fresh wave of utter hatred for my life washed over me.
And in a new form of self-loathing masochism I gave one last longing glance back at the cheese fries.
“I’m over here,” Chase called, pulling my attention from the greasy, fattening food I wasn’t allowed within smelling distance of.
Exie and Sloane were so much better at not missing junk food than me. But ever since I hit puberty and had to give up virtually anything that couldn’t be bought in a hundred calorie snack pack, I decided my very first purchase with my trust fund would be a candy bar. Ok, probably it would be a plane ticket, but then definitely a candy bar.
Maybe two.
I was awesome at dreaming big.
I followed Chase to his table, nearly groaning at how many girls were sitting near or around him. This was going to be an interesting lunch.
We wedged in between two of his friends. I knew they were friends because of the guy fist pump thing they did when we approached and how they scooted out of his way so we could sit down on the narrow bench seat.
“Ivy Pierce?” The guy sitting next to me asked all surprised and shocked.
“Yep,” I nodded, peeling open the wrapper of my granola bar. I realized then that if the entire table kept staring at me like that I wasn’t going to be able to eat any of my lunch. Damn it.
“I didn’t think you were coming back, like ever,” he so eloquently explained his disbelief.
“Well, I’m here,” I clarified shyly.
I was not shy. Actually the farthest thing from shy, but along with the feral attraction the boys at this table were watching me with was a mixture of astonishment and confusion. It was super distressing and I kind of just wanted to find a quiet place and die.
That wasn’t too much to ask for was it?
“So they wouldn’t let you transfer to another district?” A snotty girl from across the table asked innocently. I knew boys, but I knew mean girls better and this girl had an agenda. Her overly big brown eyes watched me with excited anticipation and I could almost feel her punch line hanging in the air.
I just shook my head.
“Oh, they didn’t want you either, then,” she sighed with mock sympathy. The girls around her tittered away their approval of her joke and I shrunk into Chase, using him as a shield against the open hostility.
Last year I would have snapped back with something that was both witty and cruel. I would have easily put her in her place by simultaneously hacking away at whatever façade of self-esteem she had and planted seeds of doubt that would plague her for years to come. I would have shut off every emotion and trickle of potential guilt and acted in the way I was raised to. I would have made my mother proud.
But since nowadays I could barely look at myself in a mirror, I had nothing for Amber. I couldn’t even level her with one of my death glares. She was right after all; no other district would let me transfer into their school. Not even my mom’s own power of persuasion