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When we make it to the cafeteria, I stick close to Lennon, following her to the end of a line, winding its way toward a buffet staffed with lunch ladies. I might be paranoid, but it feels like everyone’s eyes are on me.
“So,” I ask Lennon. “Are you from here?”
“No, I’m from Pennsylvania. I was shipped here freshman year, and I’ve been coming back ever since.”
“Do you like it? Living here, I mean?”
Lennon doesn’t look at me as she speaks. Her eyes wander the cafeteria, like she’s looking for someone. “I don’t hate it.”
“That is a non-answer.”
She grins. “I’m going to be here even if I hate it, so I might as well make the most of it.”
“And how do you do that?”
“You watch people,” she says, and even now she studies me. “Learn their secrets, so when they come after you, you’re untouchable.”
Unease trickles down my spine. “That all sounds a little extreme.”
“You don’t know Nacoma Knight.”
Lennon’s words must have an effect on me because I find myself scanning the room. I spot Shy standing at the center of a group of boys, all laughing at something one of them said. A girl breaks through the circle to hug him around his middle. His arms tighten around her, a wide smile on his face. It reminds me of before, when I’d offered my trust to a pretty boy who betrayed me.
I look away, but Lennon elbows me in the ribs and says in a loud whisper, “Shy’s on his way over!”
I will myself not to react, but can feel my skin grow splotchy with heat, which makes me even more embarrassed, but I face him anyway.
“Hey,” he says, coming to stand beside me.
“Hey.”
“I’m guessing you found your classes alright without me?”
“Yeah, thanks to Lennon.”
I look from one to the other. Shy’s eyes are steady on Lennon, and his smile seems tight, but Lennon’s cheerfulness makes me think I’m imagining the awkwardness.
“I’ll be right back!” Lennon says, and then bolts across the cafeteria to a group of girls. I can’t imagine what she’s telling them, but I wonder if any of it will end up on that app she spoke of earlier.
“I see you found another friend,” Shy observes.
“Yes. She’s taught me a lot,” I pause and the silence is uncomfortable, so I’m not really sure why I choose to fill it with my next comment. “I think I met your ex today.”
Shy raises a brow, but the statement doesn’t affect his smile, if anything it broadens. “And who would that be?”
“Natalie?”
He throws his head back, laughing. I’m betting Natalie would be offended by his reaction. “She’s not my ex.”
“Maybe someone should tell her that.”
“She’s just overprotective...and jealous.”
I laugh. “Jealous?”
“Yeah,” he shrugs. “Pretty new girl at school...takes attention away from her.”
“I don’t want attention, and I am no one to be jealous of.”
