Butter by Erin Jade Lange Page B

those rickety plastic chairs from another table, but chances were I’d break it. I looked around desperately for the sturdiest unoccupied chair I could find, and that’s when I noticed that every table within a twenty-foot radius was packed with kids just staring at me—and not with the usual curious, what’s-hegonna-eat-today glances, but openly gawking.
Oh my God. The password didn’t work. They know it wasn’t a prank.
My eyes moved from table to table until I realized they weren’t just staring at me. Their eyes were swiveling back and forth from me to another corner of the cafeteria. I looked to that corner and saw the strangest thing of all.
    There was my bench, parked at the circular table of JeremyStrong and his minions. It took up one whole side of the table, the ends sticking out awkwardly beyond the table’s curved edges. Parked on each of those ends were Trent and Parker. Parker was bouncing up and down on his end, trying to convince Trent that they could make it rock like a teeter-totter, but Trent wasn’t listening; he was distracted by something.
    He was waving hard, trying to get somebody’s attention.
Wait
. I looked over both of my shoulders—nothing behind me. He was trying to get
my
attention.
    â€œButter! Butter, man, over here! We got your bench!”
    I moved slowly, aware of all the eyes following me. “What’s going on?” I asked.
    Parker slapped a spot in the middle of the bench. “Have a seat!”
    Trent gestured around the table. “We all moved your bench over so you could sit with us.”
    On the other side of the table, Jeremy folded his arms across his chest and muttered, “We didn’t
all
move it.”
    â€œAh, so you got overruled,” Parker shot back. “Quit your crying.”
    I hesitated. Was it a trick? Had they rigged the bench to break out from underneath me? Seeing Trent and Parker play seesaw on the ends of the bench, though, I pushed that thought away and racked my brain for other potential deceptions.
    â€œWell, why would—I mean, I just don’t underst—”
    â€œOh my God, dude! If you’re gonna sit, just sit!” Jeremy huffed.
    â€œHey! Stop being a dick.” The way Trent sliced into Jeremy made me wonder who was really in charge of this group.
    Finally, I took a deep breath and sat. The bench held beneath me, and I let out the air I’d been holding in. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I heard the sound of a hundred other sighs behind me, from kids all around the lunchroom. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one suspicious of the bench. But now I was on it, and the only thing that had shaken loose was the tension.
    The boys around the table visibly relaxed, and Parker gave me that now-familiar smack on the back. “See, Trent? I told you he’d sit with us.”
    Trent shrugged at me. “Wasn’t sure. Thought maybe you’d think it was weird.”
    â€œWell, what
is
the deal?” I asked.
    â€œNothin’, man. We just, y’know, thought you might not want to sit alone.”
    â€œYeah,” Parker said. “That, and we want to know what’s on the menu.”
    â€œThe menu?” I peeked inside my padded cooler. “Just some cold leftovers.”
    â€œNo.” Parker lowered his voice. “The
menu
.”
    â€œOh.”
Oh!
So that’s what this was about.
    â€œWell, I—I haven’t really decided.” God, this was uncomfortable.
    Parker leaned in close. “I put down a twenty that says you won’t go for the crickets.”
    â€œA twenty? What? Are you
betting
?”
    â€œNice, Parker. Real subtle.” Trent rolled his eyes and dug into his lunch.
    â€œEverybody’s betting!” Parker said.
    â€œThen put me down for fifty that he doesn’t go through with it at all,” Jeremy spoke up.
    I fought the urge to throw something at Jeremy and said to Trent and Parker