AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Outside of the classroom, I saw Tate leaned up against the locker, talking with one of his idiot friends like he hadn’t just ruined April’s first day. “Hey,” I snapped.
“Hey, man,” he said, lifting his hand for a high five.
I stared at it, watching him slowly bring it down to his side.
“What’s up?” he asked, unsure of himself for once.
“Mess with the new girl again, and I’ll make sure you feel it at football practice.”
He lifted his hands in defense. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had something going on with her.”
“She doesn’t have to be my girl for you to treat her like she matters.”
Five
April
My throat felttight as I walked to my next class. I didn’t know what beach guy had wanted, but it couldn’t be good.
The day had already gotten off to an awkward start. I didn’t know whether that guy was mooing about my weight or the last state I lived in, but I knew it only took one person to open the floodgates, and I really didn’t want to spend my senior year getting bullied about my size.
Not when I was already worried about my mom, still grieving my dad who I’d lost in all the ways that counted, stressed about applying to colleges, and navigating a new town.
But I knew I was “safer” in a classroom than I was in the free-for-all hallways, so I counted down the door numbers until I reached statistics. The teacher up front introduced himself as Mr. Aris and had me introduce myself to the class. Some of the students were the same from English, but some were new, so I repeated my spiel, adding that I was an only child and was born in Germany.
“We’re glad to have you,” Mr. Aris said, smiling warmly.
The next couple classes went the same with introductions and syllabi. Starting at a new school at the beginning of the year was easier in some ways than jumping in halfway through. Everyone was getting used to a new routine, not just me. But as far as I could tell, I was the only new student here.
Emerson Academy seemed like the kind of place that was part of your identity. Not just a school someone attended because they were in-district. Being here meant something. I just wasn’t sure what it meant to me. Not yet.
On my way to the lunchroom, I wished I could disappear. Seniors and juniors had the second lunch period, and I’d made a meaningful connection with... nobody. Not that I was the best at making friends.
My mom had been the biggest constant in my life, my rock when my dad was deployed and my anchor when he came home injured. Most people just didn’t understand. And the ones who did had their own lives to worry about.
I gave the cashier my money, and she gave me a receipt with change. I picked up one of the navy-blue trays, lightened with scratches and use, and took it through the line, filling my plate with things that caught my interest.
I did have this to say about the Academy: their food looked a heck of a lot better than some of the things I’d been served in public schools.
I took my tray and scanned the small cafeteria full of round tables for an open spot. I wished the tables were longer—that way you could sit a few seats away from people and get your space. It was like they wanted you to actually talk to other people with this setup.
Someone nudged my arm, and I quickly apologized, stepping away. Just as I realized it was the same guy from the beach, the same guy from English, I backed into another person. But this time, their tray flipped.
Hot soup, crackers, and a sandwich with mustard went all down my side, burning my skin and completely ruining my clothes.
The girl I’d bumped into apologized, but I was already on the verge of tears.
“Come on,” the guy said. He took my hand, his encompassing my own, not giving me a chance to argue. I followed him out of the lunchroom and down the hall, not completely sure where I was.
“That was so humiliating,” I whispered, mostly to myself. Now everyone would either know me as the moo-girl or the one who’d been soaked with food her first day. I just hoped the person I ran into wouldn’t be out for revenge.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I took my hand away from his, pausing in the empty hallway. “No, I’m not okay!” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. “I’m pretty sure I have third-degree burns from the soup, I’m starving because I didn’t have time for breakfast, didn’t get to eat my lunch, and now I’ve embarrassed myself in front of you, twice! I wish you would just stop showing up!”
His brown eyes seemed to soften, and I looked away, feeling guilty for my outburst. This mess wasn’t his fault.
“Come on,” he said gently. “I’m sure Birdie has some extra clothes.”
