by E. J. Mara
“That’s so messed up,” he quietly said.
I stared at him, confused. “Huh?”
Bao’s breathing quickened and his slight frown turned into an all-out scowl. “You popular people think you’re so smart. You think everyone wants to be one of you. But, I don’t.”
I blinked back at him, utterly confused. What was happening?
“Bao,” I said shaking my head. “What are you talking about?”
He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Libby. When have you ever said one word to me before today? And now, all of a sudden you’re sitting with me at lunch, telling me that Kimberly, the most popular girl in school, wants to go out with me?”
My mouth went dry and I was suddenly aware of how quiet the surrounding tables had grown.
Other people were hearing this.
“Bao,” I said, searching for the right words. But my mind went blank. Scrambling to say anything, I blurted, “I’m not messing with you. I would never do that, I swear.”
“So, Kimberly told you she likes me,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he glared at me.
I looked down at my burrito and then back up at him.
“No, but-”
Bao stood and pointed to his right, in the direction of the table where I usually sat with Jonathan, Kimberly, Jen and Lindsey.
“Go sit with your friends,” Bao said. “You all deserve each other.”
“Bao, I’m not lying. I wasn’t trying to prank you or anything,” I said.
Nearly the entire cafeteria had gone silent, only a light buzz of conversation remaining. I could hear whispers from people asking one another what was going on.
“Sure you’re not. Because why would one of you bother to prank a nerdy kid? You’d never do that,” Bao said, his words drenched in sarcasm. He shook his head, sadness and anger in his eyes. “It’s happened to me before, Libby. I’m not an idiot. Go take your lies to another table, pick on someone else.”
My face warming with shame, I grabbed my lunch bag and left the cafeteria. I didn’t even bother to look at my friends in their corner table. Blinded by my own embarrassment, I hurried through the cafeteria’s exit doors and walked around to the front steps of our school.
We weren’t allowed to eat lunch this far away from the cafeteria, but I didn’t care.
I opened my lunch bag, got out the burrito and devoured it in about fifteen seconds.
It was delicious, but I couldn’t even taste it.
All I could taste was my own failure.
How had that gone so wrong?
My phone buzzed in my pocket.
I grabbed it and saw a text from Jonathan.
Are you okay? Where are you?
I replied:
Front steps. I’m fine.
I set my phone down and stared up at a group of birds, ducks I suppose, that were flying in a V-formation. I realized that if I were a duck, I would be the one loser who could never fly in proper formation. I’d give the V an unnecessary tail, because I’d always be the straggler, flying behind everyone else, screwing up the formation.
My phone buzzed again.
I picked it up, expecting another text from Jonathan.
My eyes widened at the sight of an Instagram post I’d been tagged in. It was posted by SunnyvilleHighGossipGirl, an account that Kimberly had told me everyone who was anyone followed. It was a shot of me cowering as Bao stood and pointed to his right. The picture was captioned “Hot nerd tells off stuck-up cheerleader. #NerdPower”
My heart sank and I quickly tucked my phone in my pocket.
“Jesus,” I mumbled, kicking a rock near my foot.
“I’m not quite Jesus,” a male voice said from behind me. I jumped, startled, even though I instantly recognized it as Jonathan’s. “But maybe I can help.”
He sat beside me on the steps and nudged me with his elbow, “Hey, Cloydelia.”
“Hey, Cletus.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he hesitantly asked.
“Yeah,” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I feel like you’re always having to ask me if I’m okay. Because I’m always doing something stupid.”
“No, you’re not,” Jonathan said. I glanced at him and he smiled. “You’re always doing something brave, and people aren’t ready for you. So, they react poorly.”
I returned his smile, my frustration diminishing.
He wore a blue t-shirt with one yellow and navy stripe across the chest. The color brought out the blue in his eyes.
I thought about how soft his lips had been the other day and then I blinked quickly and looked down at my hands, trying not to think about his lips or his eyes.
“You’re so nice to me,” I murmured. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve better,” he said.
I shook my head. “Impossible.”
There was no getting better than Jonathan.
Before he could say something else about ‘us,’ I said, “What should I have done differently with Bao? Why did that go so wrong?”
Jonathan shifted in his make-shift seat beside me. “Well,” he hesitated. “I couldn’t hear everything y’all said, but, I don’t know. Maybe I would’ve asked Kimberly first, if it was all right with her to set them up. Instead of doing it without her permission. Or the whole story. ”
“Oh,” I said, thinking this over.
“But,” Jonathan quickly said. “Maybe that wouldn’t have even made a difference with Bao. Because when someone doesn’t think they can be loved, they won’t accept it. No matter how hard you try, they won’t think they’re good enough. At least, that’s what I’ve noticed.”
I sighed. “Yeah, maybe Bao would have turned me down either way. But, I think you’re right about talking to Kimberly first. I should have gone to her first. I was presumptuous.”
“Well,” Jonathan paused. “It came from a good place. You were just trying to help.”
“Thanks for understanding me,” I said, still not looking at him. “Even when the whole school hates me.”
Jonathan snorted. “Amanda, I’m pretty sure the whole school doesn’t hate you.”
“Have you checked Instagram? I made it into a Sunnyville High Gossip Girl post,” I said dryly. “She called me a “Stuck up cheerleader.””
“Oh.” Jonathan was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry.”
“Well... it’s okay, I guess.”
I didn’t know what else to say, so I looked down at my lunch bag, wishing I’d added some chips or trail mix to my meal as I said, “Um, thanks for checking on me. But, you should probably go back to Jen. She’ll get upset.”
Jonathan didn’t say anything, but in the corner of my eye I could see him looking at me.
I kept my eyes lowered as I said, “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” He sighed. “Bye, Amanda.”
With this, he got up and walked away.
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
***
An hour later, I walked into Math class and looked around for Kimberly. She wasn’t there yet.
I hadn’t seen her since lunch and I hadn’t even gotten a text from her about the Bao incident.
But, both she and Bao were in this class with me and I dreaded seeing either of them.
I slid into my desk, which was in the third row and near the left wall of the room.
Bao walked into the classroom and glanced at me, an unreadable expression on his face, before taking his seat in the second row, on the other side of the classroom.
My heart plummeted.
He thought I was a jerk. A snobby, popular jerk who’d tried to prank him.
I looked down at my desk. Someone had carved a heart into it.
I stared at the heart and wondered if I deserved Bao’s anger.
Sure, he was wrong about me- but was he really wrong about me?
Maybe I hadn’t been trying to prank him, but for the past four years, hadn’t my mother and I been pranking nearly everyone we came in contact with?
>
So, maybe I actually did deserve this…
A fist came down on my desk, softly, but I still jumped, startled out of my skin.
I looked up to find Kimberly standing beside my desk. She nodded to the classroom door, “Can we go talk for a sec?”
I glanced at our Math teacher. He was looking down at a notebook as he stood at the podium, waiting for the bell to ring. “But, won’t we get in trouble?”
“My dad donates too much money to this school for me to get into trouble,” Kimberly said, her voice low. “Hallway?”
Even though she was polite enough to pose this as a question, the steel in her eyes told me I didn’t have a choice.
I nodded and stood. Without a word, she turned around and I followed her to the door. I could feel the gazes of our classmates, watching us as we left the classroom. Kimberly closed the door behind us just as the bell rang.
With this, she crossed her arms and glared at me. “Libby, what were you thinking? I mean, I don’t even know what to say to you.”
She wasn’t yelling, but she might as well been.
My eyes filled and I looked down, trying to blink away my tears.
“I’m sorry. I was trying to help. I just wanted you to be happy. And I thought Bao would make you happy. But I was wrong, I’m really sorry.”
Kimberly sighed and I looked up to find her staring at me.
Her eyes weren’t as hate-filled as I’d expected. Instead, they were sad.
“I get that,” she finally said. She uncrossed her arms and ran a hand through her hair as she shook her head. “But, Libby, you can’t do that to people. You can’t just waltz into someone’s life and make huge decisions for them without their consent. Believe it or not, that’s actually a great way to completely screw up someone’s entire life.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know,” she quietly said. She gave me a sympathetic look and bit the corner of her lip. “You’re my friend. Okay? So, I know I can trust you. I know you were just trying to help. But I need you to understand that I’m not, um, I’m not like other people…”
Kimberly’s voice trailed off and she took a step away from me as she crossed her arms.
I watched her carefully, waiting for her to continue.
She leaned against the lockers and stared into the distance as she said, “I can’t just go out with guys like you or Jen or Lindsey.”
“Okay?”
“Um,” hesitant, she glanced at me. “You know how some people have weak ankles, so they have to be extra careful when they run?”
I’d never encountered anyone with this problem, but I nodded anyway. “Sure.”
“Well, when it comes to guys and love and all that,” Kimberly spoke slowly. “I have ‘weak ankles.’ Like, even when I’m into someone, I can’t really do anything about it because… because of…”
As Kimberly struggled to get her sentence out, I felt her pain in my own heart.
My eyes filled again. “Because of what happened to you?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yeah.” Her eyes bone dry, she frowned and said, “That makes it really hard to do certain things with them, and to, like, trust them. So, I’m saying all this to say- it’s like I have a disability and the only way to work around it, is to do things at my own pace. So, please, don’t ever try to push me again. Not with relationships and things like that. Okay?”
I nodded and a tear rolled down my cheek. I wiped it away. “Okay. I’m so sorry, Kimberly.”
She glared at me, but her face softened as she said, “Oh-em-gee, Libby. Please stop crying.”
“Sorry,” I said again, wiping my tears and trying to stop being such a leaky faucet.
“It’s not even really your fault,” Kimberly said with a shrug. “You didn’t know what happened freshman year.”
Curious, I frowned and asked, “What happened?”
Kimberly licked her lips and uncrossed her arms, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jeans as she said, “Bao asked me out when we were in ninth grade. I could tell it took everything he had, like all of his courage, to do it. And I wanted to say yes, but I just couldn’t. I mean… how could I? I wouldn’t be able I be able to kiss him or barely even touch him. I was still, like, afraid of guys and, afraid of myself. I… I was so screwed up. I thought something was wrong with me. So, I told him no and he was so dejected. I felt horrible. But, what could I do?” she looked at me and I shook my head.
“Yeah, that wasn’t your fault,” I said. “If I’d been through everything you had, I might’ve told him no too.”
She sighed. “Well, you and I might get it. But I could never tell him the reason why I turned him down and he’s super sensitive. So, since then he’s avoided me like the plague and he gets embarrassed and super shy when I try to talk to him. It’s like he doesn’t trust me anymore, which sucks. Because we kind of used to be friends.”
“Maybe one day you’ll reconnect,” I said quietly.
She shrugged. “Or maybe he’ll just keep rejecting me the way I rejected him when we were freshman. And maybe I’ll die alone because I’ll never have the courage to let anyone touch me.”
Kimberly’s face darkened and she crossed her arms again.
I wanted to hug her, but I wasn’t sure if I should.
“You won’t die alone,” I said. She looked up at me and arched an eyebrow. I smiled, hoping to coax one out of her as I said, “Because I’ll be right there with you, we’ll be roommates in the nursing home.”
She rolled her eyes, but returned my grin. “Okay. Well, we’d better get back to class.”
I followed her back into our classroom, glad we’d talked things out.
But I still felt like the rug had been pulled out from under me, like my new best friend and I weren’t on stable ground anymore.
And now that I knew how amazing it was to actually have a best friend, I didn’t want to go back to being without one.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I was right about Kimberly.
Despite our hallway heart-to-heart, our friendship was strained, and it was all my fault.
I realized the truth of this when I walked into my seventh hour class and got a text from Kimberly that said:
Hey, I can’t bring you home today. Have stuff to do. Will you be okay riding the bus?
I hadn’t expected her to bring me home. I never really did. I was just glad that nearly every day, she offered to, or planned something for us to do after school. But now that I’d presumptuously inserted myself into a part of her life where I didn’t belong, that was all going to change.
Irritated with myself, I replied:
Sure. NP.
Kimberly didn’t text me back, which was another sign that we were at odds. She always texted back with something, even if it was just a smiley face.
Sighing, I slid my phone into one of my jacket pockets and tried to pay attention to whatever it was my teacher was talking about.
I remained that way- foggy and half-present -until class was over and the last bell of the day rang, dismissing us from school.
I moved down the hallway at a snail’s pace while other students seemed to run past me, eager to go to practice, to go home, or to go hang out with friends.
I wondered if my friendship with Kimberly could be repaired, or if she’d remain upset with me indefinitely.
“Hey, it’s that snobby cheerleader from Instagram,” someone stage-whispered. The fake whisper was followed by several peals of laughter.
I hung my head, ashamed.
“She’s not even a cheerleader, you losers,” a familiar female voice shouted, from behind me. “If you bothered to actually know your classmates, you’d know that! So, who’s the real snob?”
I whirled around and nearly bumped into the owner of the shouting voice, Lindsey.
I stared at her, surprised. “Hey!” I said.
“Hey,” she rolled her eyes and nodded to a passing group of girls who looked like freshmen. “And don’t worry a
bout those losers, they just want attention.”
I nodded, so grateful for Lindsey’s support I couldn’t even find the words to thank her.
“Do you need a ride home?” she asked, readjusting her backpack on her shoulders. “I don’t have practice today and for once I don’t have to meet my mom or do some other family-related garbage. So, I’m free if you want to hang out or whatever.”
I smiled, instantly brightening.
I’d never spent time with Lindsey on a one-on-one basis.
“Sure, thanks. Want to come to my house and watch a movie or something?” I asked.
“Yeah, that works,” she grinned.
An hour later, Lindsey’s yellow Mustang was parked in our driveway and the two of us were in the kitchen, making ice cream cones.
“I haven’t had ice cream in…” Lindsey squinted as she looked up and thought for a moment. “Seven, no, wait. Eight! Eight months. That’s how long it’s been.”
I looked at her, horrified. “Why? And how? How can anyone go that long without ice cream?” At this, I licked my praline dream and butter pecan ice cream cone.
She wrinkled her nose and crossed her eyes, which made her look kind of hysterical.
I laughed so hard I nearly spit out my ice cream.
Lindsey was surprisingly funny. She’d kept me laughing constantly on our way to my house. I’d never noticed how much she randomly peppered conversations with exaggerated facial expressions and funny voices, but now that it was just me and her, I had a front row seat to her antics.
Not only was she entertaining, but her unintentional one-woman-show also turned out to be a great way to take my mind off my issues.
“Coach wants all her cheerleaders to have the absolute minimal amount of body fat possible for girls our age and that means we’re supposed to follow this crazy diet she suggests,” Lindsey lowered her voice and leaned towards me as if she were telling me a secret. “And by ‘suggests’ I mean ‘dictates.’ And, seeing as I’m a huge people-pleaser who’s afraid to break rules, even when they’re dumb, I’m the one girl on the team who’s actually been following her stupid diet. Until today.”
She took a bite of her chocolate ice cream cone and I grinned at her.
“I’m glad you’re breaking the diet,” I said. “Because you don’t look like you need to be on one in the first place.”
