by Tara Kelly
“I have a bunch of language books at home,” I said. “But they don’t teach me how to say the weird stuff.”
“Nah, you have to actually experience the place to learn the good words,” he said.
“Do you study languages for fun?” Kari asked me.
“Yes.”
“Interesting.” She shifted her gaze to Justin and pursed her lips.
“Do you have a favorite language?” he asked me.
“Gaelic.” I didn’t even have to think about it. “It’s really lyrical.”
“Say something in Italian, Justin,” Kari said, biting the cap of her pen.
“Like what?” He glanced at his hands again. His nails looked like the edges of broken glass. Maybe he bit them, like Naomi did.
She leaned closer to him. “Anything.”
“Sono strano.” He gave me a side glance.
“You don’t seem that weird,” I said, hoping I got the translation right.
“That’s because you don’t know me that well yet.” The way he said yet made my cheeks feel hot. Like he’d actually remember my name in a couple of weeks after he made friends here. Normal friends, like Kari.
By the time Kari was done prodding Justin, we’d learned that his favorite book was Slaughterhouse Five, he was interested in psychiatry because the human mind “fascinated” him, and he needed to make sure he still had teeth this morning. He’d dreamed that they’d all fallen out.
“So what was your favorite vacation, Drea?” he asked.
Considering my mom and I were always too busy moving to take vacations, I didn’t have a lot to draw from. “My mom took me to SeaWorld once. I didn’t want to leave after we saw the dolphins—so we watched them until the park closed.”
“If that’s your best vacation, you’re even worse off than I am,” Kari said. “Mine was when I snuck off with my ex during spring break. We drove along the coastline all the way to some town in southern California.”
“Hey, it’s Drea’s turn,” Justin said with a smile.
“I was just trying to speed this up.” She grinned back.
“I want to be a sound designer, don’t have a favorite book, and I tripped over a moving box this morning. Fast enough?” I asked. Next time I would have to come up with a better story for my vacation. Maybe one involving skydiving out of a plane with my “ex.”
“For now,” Justin said. “I’ll just grill you more later.”
Kari’s favorite book was Anne of Green Gables, she wanted to be a journalist, and she’d hit the snooze button three times before she got up. My interview went a lot quicker because I didn’t ask her to elaborate on her experiences. And Justin drew pictures of rectangles and eyeballs on his paper. I wondered if he was even paying attention to her answers.
“Guess we moved too fast,” I said, looking around the room. Some students were using animated hand gestures, others were laughing, and many were writing furiously.
Kari leaned back in her chair, studying me. “So—when did you meet Naomi?”
“When I moved in on Friday. She lives across the street.”
“What do you think of her?”
“She’s nice.” What else could I say? Mom told me to keep my answers to a minimum around people I didn’t know, especially when they wanted to gossip about someone else.
“Yeah.” Kari chuckled. “She sure seems that way, doesn’t she? Watch your back around her.”
Kari’s words made me squirm in my seat. She was the second person in three days to warn me about Naomi. But almost everyone I met made me feel like a freak. They’d give each other these looks, much like the ones Kari gave Justin. I didn’t notice the looks when I was little—the smirks and raised eyebrows. Not until the teasing started. Naomi never looked at me like that.
“She’s my friend,” I said.
Kari put her hand up and shook her head. “You need better taste in friends.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but Justin reached under my desk and brushed his fingers against the back of my hand. It was a quick gesture, but enough to make me forget whatever I was going to say. Warm tingles shot up my forearm, and my stomach felt weird.
“Nothing wrong with loyalty,” he said, giving me a smile.
NAOMI JUMPED IN FRONT OF ME and grabbed my shoulders as I left fourth-period biology. “Anyone?” she asked in a low monotone. “Anyone know what this is? Class?”
I pulled out of her grasp. “You’re not making any sense.”
She fell into step alongside me, her mouth hanging open. “Please tell me you’ve seen Ferris Bueller.”
“I might have.” It’s not like I took notes on every single movie I saw.
“Okay, we’re so watching that. There’s a teacher in it who’s just like the Bot.”
“The Bot?”
“Yeah—that’s what we call Mr. Harvey. He’s the only bio teacher I’ve had who can make dissecting a fetal pig seem like a real estate seminar.”
I hadn’t noticed anything unusual about Mr. Harvey other than the spit flying out of his mouth with every hard consonant. He also smelled like an old closet—no wonder I had a front table all to myself.
Naomi pushed open a set of doors and led me back to the fountain. Students poured out into the quad like ants zeroing in on a juice spill. “Is your lunch in there?” She nodded at my blue lunch box.
“It’s in my backpack.”
“Do you take that thing everywhere with you?”
My hand tightened around the handle. “Yes.” Like Mr. Fuzzy the blanket, my box was a piece of home. It comforted me.
“Got anything I can eat?” She elbowed her way through a group of jocks and slid onto the cement wall, spreading her arms wide and leaning on her palms.
I plopped next to her, yanking a crumpled brown bag out of my backpack. “I’ve got a jelly sandwich and an apple.”
Naomi wrinkled her nose. “Feeling extra fruity this morning?”
“The apple was Grandma’s idea. You can have it.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You got something against peanut butter?”
“Yeah, it’s gross.”
“But purple jelly between two pieces of… what the hell kind of bread is that?”
I shrugged. “Some twelve-grain stuff my grandma eats. I didn’t have time to buy food this weekend.”
She shook her head and sank her teeth into the green apple.
Drizzle sprinkled my cheeks, and the smell of wet pavement curled into my nostrils. I loved the scent of rain—if only it came in bottles. A couple of guys with messy hair and studded belts nodded at Naomi as they passed. She wiggled her fingers at them, and they nudged each other, smirking.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“Dumb and Dumber—the emo twins. I hooked up with the blond one last year. Shortest lunch break I ever had.” She grinned.
How was I supposed to respond to that? I swallowed a lump of jelly. “How come Kari doesn’t like you?”
Naomi rolled her eyes. “I messed around with her ex-boyfriend. Only—I didn’t know they were still together at the time. The dude in the red shirt.” She pointed to a guy with a shaved head and biceps as big as my thighs. He stood near the school entrance, laughing with a couple other boys.
“Oh.” I took another small bite of my sandwich. The seeds in the bread stuck to my teeth.
She nibbled on her thumbnail and gave me a sidelong glance. “It’s not like I’m a slut. I’ve only had actual sex with three guys.”
That sounded like an awful lot to me, but what did I know? The only people I talked to were net geeks online, and they never had dates either. “How old were you—the first time?”
She devoured the last speck of skin on the apple. “Fifteen. What about you?”
What made her assume I’d had sex? Maybe because she thought I had all these crazy-boy stories. “Um…” I tried to think of a good answer, but a hand squeezed my shoulder, making me jump.
“Hey.” Justin smiled at us. “Mind if I join yo
u?”
Naomi glanced from me to him. “Fine by me.”
Justin sat next to me and unraveled a brown bag of his own, pulling out a couple pieces of vegetable pizza. The crust was super thin, like crackers. I wondered if it was his grandma’s recipe.
“You gonna answer the question or not?” Naomi nudged me.
I leaned closer to her ear and lowered my voice. “Not now.” Mom used to get on me about bringing up certain subjects around strangers, especially anything sex related. And talking about boys around a boy was just weird.
She leaned forward to look at Justin. “We were discussing our first time—when was yours?”
“Naomi!” I elbowed her. Maybe she needed a few social lessons herself.
Justin swallowed a massive bite of his pizza. “My first time… what?”
She squinted at him. “Don’t be coy.”
He crinkled his brow at me. “She always like this?”
Before I could answer, Roger shoved himself between Naomi and me. “Anyone game for Taco Bell?”
“Count me in,” Naomi said.
Roger pushed his shades down his nose and peered at me. “What about you, Grannie Panties? You and your boyfriend want to come?”
I looked away. His presence and loud voice made me cringe. “Can you not call me that?”
“I’m just teasing. Don’t get your panti—” He paused and laughed. “Oops.”
“Why don’t you drop it, man?” Justin asked.
Naomi’s eyes widened, and she made an O shape with her mouth.
Roger held his hands up. “I’m just playin’. You guys coming or not?”
Justin raised his pizza crust at him. “Nah, I’m good.”
“Aren’t we supposed to stay on campus at lunch?” I asked.
Roger pulled my lunch box into his lap and inspected it.
I snatched it from him. “Don’t touch that!” They wouldn’t understand my reaction. How could I explain the box was part of me—my space. I wanted to grab my stuff and run into the nearest bathroom stall. It was the only place at school that allowed me to lock people out. Sometimes it felt like the only place I could breathe.
Roger yanked on one of Naomi’s purple pigtails. “Where’d you find this chick?”
She scrunched her nose at me and bit her lip. “I’m gonna split. But I’ll see you in PE, okay?”
“Sure,” I said, feeling Justin’s eyes burning into me.
“Later,” Naomi said, ruffling my red curls.
As Naomi disappeared into the crowd, I wondered why she’d want to spend so much time hanging out with a guy she didn’t even seem to like.
“What a tool,” Justin commented.
“Roger?”
“Who else?” He gave me a little nudge. “Naomi seems cool, though.”
“Yeah, she’s the first person who… never mind.”
“Tell me.” He leaned close enough for me to inhale a musky scent. Kind of like rain in a forest. It made my stomach tickle.
I counted the cracks in the pavement below my dangling feet. “She’s really friendly—most people aren’t.”
“Maybe because you aren’t very friendly to them.”
I met his gaze. His eyes matched the cloudy sky. “What does that mean?”
“Well”—he glanced down at his long fingers—“you weren’t exactly Miss Sunshine to me this morning.”
“I’m sorry. Was I supposed to do a cheer for you?”
He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “No, but looking at me would’ve been nice.”
“If I’m so horrible, why are you sitting here?”
“Because I think you’re interesting.”
Since when did guys like him find me interesting? “How can you say that? You don’t even know me.”
A smile edged at his lips, showing off a dimple on his left cheek. “I’m good at reading people.”
I crumpled up my paper bag and shifted away from him. “Shouldn’t you be hanging out with people more like you, then?”
“And who would that be?”
“Kari.”
“How did you come to the conclusion that I’m like Kari?”
“Usually guys like you—”
“Guys like me? Spit it out, Drea. What little box have you stuck me in?”
His questions made my stomach shrivel, and my mind was at its limit. I couldn’t even think. Nobody ever confronted me like this before. Usually I’d say a few sentences and they’d never talk to me again. Simple.
“I have to go.” I snatched my backpack and headed toward the school building, tossing my bag in the trash.
“It’s been a pleasure,” he called after me.
My chest felt tight as I walked down the hallway in search of the restrooms. The never-ending rows of lockers bowed in and out, and my boots squeaked on the green tile floor. A group of girls stared at me as I passed them, their whispers like needles poking at my skin. Kari was one of them.
“Hey, Drea,” she said with a half smile. Her dark eyes focused on the box swinging in my hand.
I muttered hi under my breath. A flutter of laughter followed me down the hallway.
“She looks like Raggedy Ann,” one of the girls hissed. Another voice shushed her, and they went silent. I pictured their eyes on my back, analyzing everything from the way I walked to the size of my butt. Mom always did that. Compared herself to other women or criticized their outfits. When I’d hide in a bathroom stall, girls would stand in front of the mirror complimenting each other and insulting their absent friends. Always with lowered voices and soft giggles. Hatred and friendship seemed to go hand in hand.
The bell signifying the end of lunch break rang about five minutes later. My shoulders sagged as soon as I glanced at my schedule—PE. I’d purposely forgotten to bring a T-shirt and a pair of sweats, hoping this school wouldn’t have a uniform. It wasn’t like they could make me run around a field in a skirt.
I scanned the crowd for Naomi as I neared the brick gym building but found Kari instead. She had her hand on Justin’s arm, and he was leaning toward her and laughing. I’d once read some lame magazine in a doctor’s office that said casual touches and leaning toward each other were signs of romantic interest.
Kari’s voice rose as she backed away from him. “See you in the parking lot, then?”
Justin gave her another dimpled smile. “You got Mrs. Baker for sixth period, right?”
She nodded, looking over at me. I realized I was gaping at them like an idiot.
“I’ll meet you there after class.” Justin turned and glanced at me. I opened my mouth to say hi, but he’d looked away and brushed past me before a sound escaped my lips. Nice.
“How’s it going, Drea?” Kari asked, still staring at me from the entrance of the gym.
“Fine,” I muttered to the ground.
“What?”
“It’s fine,” I said as I walked toward her. Where the hell was Naomi?
“Come on. I’ll show you where the locker room is,” she said, opening the graffiti-covered door.
Great—just what I needed. A guided tour of the locker room by a girl who hated my only friend here. “Thanks.”
She led me down a hallway with a shiny wood floor and walls lined with trophy cases. “Did Naomi tell you we used to be best friends?” she asked.
“No.”
“Didn’t think so.”
The smell of sweat and cheap perfume emanated from a blue set of double doors ahead, making me queasy.
“You’ll have to see Mrs. Kessler to get your uniform first.” She yanked open the heavy door.
Perfect, I thought.
The locker room was like every other I’d endured. Stained cement floors with matching walls, long skinny benches, and girls in various stages of undress. Some were hunched over, quickly yanking shirts over their heads. Others paraded around in nothing but fancy bras and underwear. The muggy air and high-pitched chatter made me dizzy.
Kari brought me to an office where a brunette wom
an sat. She looked nearly as small as I was—definitely not the norm for PE teachers.
“Newbie here, Mrs. Kessler.” She jabbed her thumb at me.
“Thanks, Kari.”
Kari shot me a quick grin and left me alone. Mrs. Kessler handed me a uniform, went over the usual rules, and sent me on my way. She didn’t even ask if I had questions.
Naomi stood outside the office, biting her lower lip. Her eyes looked glazed and sleepy. “Let’s go find lockers.” She grabbed my elbow and led me toward the back row. We scanned for a pair without locks and found a couple at the very top.
Naomi ripped off her black T-shirt and nodded at me. “Kessler is loads of fun, isn’t she?”
“Sure…” I folded my arms over my stomach. I’d changed in the bathroom stalls at every other school. The other girls would smirk when I’d come out clutching my clothes. But it was better than standing around a bunch of half-naked strangers.
Naomi crinkled her brow at me. “Better get changed. Kessler is a real hard-ass about tardiness.”
“Right.” I stood up and backed away, pressing the clothing against my chest.
“Where you going?”
“Bathroom.”
She unzipped her baggy jeans and let them fall to the floor. “Are you changing in the stall?” Her half smile told me she found that amusing. After all, she thought I’d had my share of boyfriends—surely it wasn’t the first time anyone saw me undressed.
“I have to pee. But I guess I can change first.”
“Whatever.” She grinned and folded her jeans.
I glanced at the blue underwear riding low across her hips. The material was silky and thin. Nothing like the white pair that went up to my waist.
A couple girls walked into the aisle across from us—the same ones standing in the hallway with Kari at lunch. The blonde gave me a fleeting glance, but focused on Naomi. She was tall and big-boned with jowly cheeks and thin lips. She slid out of her tight jeans, showing off a satin thong. Her skinny friend wore one of those lace bras I saw in my mom’s Victoria Secret catalogs.
I wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Roger tried to make a move on me at lunch,” Naomi said, slamming her locker shut. “You’re definitely coming with me next time.”
