one class I have with Ryden, of course) and had to run out before the bell. I refused to give myself permission to throw up until after I got to the bathroom, and luckily I made it to a toilet just in time… But what had Ryden thought about me running away with my hand over my mouth like that? I was mortified. And I really, really didn’t want to have to explain about the chemo.
So then, ten minutes later, I left the bathroom…and Ryden was waiting for me! I think I may have actually gasped when I saw him there. So embarrassing, on every level.
That part’s sorta funny to me, because what did she have to be embarrassed about? She threw up. It happens. I was the one feeling like a total tool, standing outside the bathroom, listening to the muffled sounds of her puking, clueless about what to do. I didn’t know if I should go in or not. I mean, it was only a bathroom, right? Nothing I’d never seen before. But what if they were doing, like, girl stuff in there? Passing around tampons and stuff.
A few minutes went by, and the crowd in the hall started to thin out. I felt so useless. What if she needed someone to call the nurse? There had to have been other girls in there, but I wasn’t sure if Meg would ask them for help or not. She kinda kept to herself.
The door swung open. It was Meg. And yup, she gasped. It made me smile.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She nodded. I noticed she was chewing a piece of gum. “Were you waiting for me?”
“Yeah.” I held up her backpack. “What happened? Do you have the flu or something?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Do you want to go to the nurse?”
“No!” she said, a little panicked. “It passed. Seriously, I’m fine. You should go to lunch. Thanks for your help.” She held out her hand for her bag.
A few minutes ago, she was spewing her guts, and I should’ve been grossed out, but she was still really pretty, with that crazy hair and soft-looking mouth.
“Can I walk you to lunch?” I asked.
She hesitated and narrowed her eyes. “Did you really friend Alan Kang on Facebook?”
“What?” How was that a response to my question?
She spoke slower. “Did…you…friend…Alan…on…Facebook?”
I held her gaze. “Yes.”
“Why?” It was like she was accusing me of something, like friending Alan Kang on Facebook was all part of some master scheme to take over the world.
“Because you’re not on Facebook. I checked. And I saw you sitting at lunch with him yesterday and figured one degree of separation was better than nothing.”
Her eyes widened.
My Alan Kang Facebook recon mission had been surprisingly useful—his relationship status was “single.” Which meant Meg wasn’t his girlfriend.
“So,” I repeated, “can I walk you to lunch?”
“One more question,” she said.
I waited.
“What about Shoshanna?”
Huh? “What about her?”
“Shouldn’t you be walking her to lunch instead?”
“Um, why?”
Meg’s face got all flushed, and she looked down at her shoes. “Aren’t you two…?”
I shook my head. “We broke up a couple of months ago.”
If I hadn’t been looking so hard, I would’ve probably missed it. But there it was. Meg’s features relaxed with the smallest hint of relief.
“So?” I asked. “Lunch?”
She met my gaze. “I have to go to my locker first.”
We started to walk. “Why?”
“Alan will be waiting for me there. And I need to get my lunch.”
“You bring your lunch?” I asked. Yeah, it was small talk, and yeah, it was awkward, but it was better than saying nothing.
“I don’t really like the cafeteria food.”
“Why not?” Cafeteria food was awesome. Nachos and burgers and fries and pretzels and those deep-fried pizza roll things.
She shrugged. “I try to eat healthy.”
I nodded, as if I understood. “So you bring a sandwich or something?”
She full on smiled at that. “No. Steamed veggies and tofu, kale chips, organic fruit, stuff like that.”
“Right. Cool.” What the hell is a kale chip?
We got to her locker, and sure enough, there was Alan. He blinked at the sight of the two of us together.
“Hey,” Meg said, giving him a look that I probably wasn’t supposed to notice but that obviously meant, Stay cool.
“Hey,” he said. “Hey, Ryden Brooks.”
“Hey.”
More uncomfortable silence. “Hey” couldn’t be the only thing we had to say to each other, could it?
“Sorry I’m late,” she said.
“No problemo.”
Meg fumbled with her lock as I racked my brain, trying to come up with something to talk about. What had I seen on Alan’s Facebook