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“That was because five billion miles were keeping us apart. Now, it’s unacceptable. It’s our senior year of high school. I need to have lunch with you for our senior year.”
“It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh, it is. The administration is going to hear from me. Mark your words.”
“You mean, markmywords.”
“That’s what I said. Mark your words.”
I shook my head. “No. That’s not the saying.”
“Whatever. Your words are my words; my words are yours.”
I rolled my eyes as I leaned against the window. “You have too much energy for seven o’clock in the morning.”
“If that’s your way of saying you missed me, I missed you, too.”
Once we walked into Satan’s dungeon, everyone noticed Aiden. He was determined to have a typical senior year before his career exploded even more, which it would without a doubt, but it was clear that nothing about this last year of school would be normal. All eyes were on him.
We were separated early on, but the echoes of people talking about his transformation and his Hollywood success were ridiculous. Just a few years ago, they were mocking him about his dancing taco commercial, but now that he was on the cover of magazines and hanging out with Marvel actors, they were his biggest fans? What a bunch of crappy hypocrites. Sweet Aiden would’ve welcomed their fake kindness, too. That boy was too wonderful to know when people weren’t being genuine. He was the definition of a golden retriever. Loyal to a fault to any and everyone who smiled his way. If he had a tail, that thing would’ve fallen off from wagging with excitement.
A pit sat in my stomach as I headed to the bathroom before first hour. The popular girls were giggling in the bathroom about Aiden, and I hated the idea of them getting their manicured hands anywhere near him.
The intercom screeched in first hour, reminding us of our broken-down school equipment. Principal Warren’s voice broke through the scratchy sounds with the morning announcements, and he welcomed us all back for yet another year of being told to sit down and shut up.
“Last, I want to welcome back Leeks’ own Emmy-winning actor, Aiden Walters, to school. We are excited to have his return. Make sure you all stream his Emmy-winning television showForgottenwhen you get home tonight. Welcome back to school, everyone. Here’s to a new year!”
Intercom speeches about my best friend? Normal was the opposite of what our senior year was about to become.
7
Hailee
I hated lunchtime.If I had it my way, school would’ve skipped past lunch period and allowed us to get out of prison an hour earlier. Instead, I was left in a cafeteria packed with people I knew but didn’t really know, surrounded by individuals who all seemed to have friends to sit with, unlike me.
Ever since I gained weight, I felt even more self-aware when it came time to eat in front of other people. It was almost as if I’d become obsessed with eating things I didn’t want to eat because I didn’t want others to comment on my choices.
“We should’ve gotten here sooner. It looks like this chick’s gonna take all the food,” someone behind me joked. I didn’t look back at them. I didn’t know who it was, and I wasn’t even sure they were talking about me, but I felt as if they were. They had to be talking about me. My thighs rubbed together when I walked. A tire of pudginess that unfolded from the top of my jeans whenever I sat down, which made at least one of my arms always rest against said bulge whenever I sat. Even oversized T-shirts didn’t hide the beast.
My hands were clammy around the dull, brown plastic tray that shook in my grip from the unwanted attention.
“Will you just shut up, Robby? I told you, I’m PMSing,” a girl’s voice replied. I glanced back to see Hilary was the one who the guys were joking about taking all the food.
Well, hell. If her guy friends were bullying her about her diet when she was slim, then I was a hopeless case. All I had to do was try my best not to draw attention to myself.
Sit down. Eat quietly. And don’t make a—
“Hailee Jones! Behold!” someone hollered.
My heart shot up to my throat.
I turned to see Aiden standing a few feet away from me, holding a piece of paper up in the air. “I took my grievances to the top tier of authority, and I am officially in lunch A. Victory is ours!” he shouted before he began to hip thrust the air, dancing poorly, reminding me that even though Aiden was famous as heck by society standards, he was still, in fact, my Aiden.
My bad dancing, over-the-top Aiden.
My favorite dancing taco.
I couldn’t wait to have lunch with him for one hundred and eighty more days.
