date.”
“I know it’s not a date,” I say through clenched teeth, my temper rising. “And I’m not making a big deal out of it. I’m simply saying I’d rather not. So, you know, don’t do me any favors.”
“I’m not. You need to eat, I need to eat. ” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Might as well do it together.”
Why is he hassling me about this? “No, thanks. I’m suddenly not hungry.”
Again, I try to walk away, but his deep growly voice stops me.
“You have something against lunch, or you have something against me?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Do you really need to ask?”
He shakes his head slightly. “You’re still stubborn.”
“And you’re still a bully.”
I toss this out without turning around again. Still, I can feel Dean’s stare burning into my retreating form. I don’t look back.
So, I’m irritated and hungry, and now there’s no time to grab something from the cafeteria. Not that I wanted to go back in there, anyway. I change course and head for the bathroom down the hall. I guess I’ll just hide in there for the few minutes I have left.
Pathetic, I know.
I luck out in Bi ology. Ms. Sepulveda, a tiny woman, looks too tired and depressed to give a damn. She whispers something incomprehensible when I introduce myself to her, and gestures vaguely toward some empty seats at the back of the class. While I head straight to the last row, she flicks off the lights, and pops in a video about cell cycles.
My stomach is growling so loud right now. I try coughing to disguise the telltale roar, but I know the people around me aren’t fooled.
After a pa rticularly vicious growl, the girl at the desk in front of me turns around, grinning. The first thing I notice about her is her nose, which is large and slightly off-center. Strangely, it works with her face, giving it a quirky appeal. Also, she has some big hair. The wild black curls that swirl around her face give the impression of sentient life. I can easily imagine a lock of it springing out and wrapping itself around my neck.
“Hi,” she says in a loud bright voice. “Your name’s Juliet, right? I’m Tanya. So, where are you from?” Her curls bounce nervously with her most minute movement.
I kind of want to stick a hand out and see if her hair will shake it. “Hey,” I say, sitting up straight, and forcing a smile to my lips. “I actually just transferred from Jefferson.”
“Oh?” She tilts her head, curious and birdlike. “How come?”
Well, there’s one person who hasn’t heard the gossip. I shrug one shoulder. I decide to give her a half-truth. “My grandmother offered to pay for my tuition.”
“Nice grandmother. I have a cousin who goes to Jefferson. Cecily Patel? She’s a sophomore.” She watches me expectantly for recognition.
I shake my head slightly, and smile regretfully. “Sorry, I don’t know her.” Why am I apologizing?
It’s her turn to shrug. “Eh, I’m not surprised. She’s not exactly popular. Got the family nose.” She points proudly to the beaky protuberance on her face. It seems to wiggle a little. Did she do that on purpose? Fascinating!
She twists all the around in her seat so she can face me , swinging her bony legs around. “So, you know Dean Youngblood? I saw you talking to him in the cafeteria.”
She says his name so reverentially, I kind of want to say it, too. To see if she’ll fall to the ground in supplication. The worshipful way she says it cancels out her cool self-deprecation.
She waits breathlessly for me to reply, hair seemingly on the ready to strike. I glance toward the front of the room, checking the alertness level of Ms. Sepulveda. She appears to be asleep with her eyes wide open. Most of the peopl e in class are blatantly taking advantage of her inattentiveness, talking amongst themselves and completely ignoring the
“I know it’s not a date,” I say through clenched teeth, my temper rising. “And I’m not making a big deal out of it. I’m simply saying I’d rather not. So, you know, don’t do me any favors.”
“I’m not. You need to eat, I need to eat. ” He shrugs his broad shoulders. “Might as well do it together.”
Why is he hassling me about this? “No, thanks. I’m suddenly not hungry.”
Again, I try to walk away, but his deep growly voice stops me.
“You have something against lunch, or you have something against me?”
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Do you really need to ask?”
He shakes his head slightly. “You’re still stubborn.”
“And you’re still a bully.”
I toss this out without turning around again. Still, I can feel Dean’s stare burning into my retreating form. I don’t look back.
So, I’m irritated and hungry, and now there’s no time to grab something from the cafeteria. Not that I wanted to go back in there, anyway. I change course and head for the bathroom down the hall. I guess I’ll just hide in there for the few minutes I have left.
Pathetic, I know.
I luck out in Bi ology. Ms. Sepulveda, a tiny woman, looks too tired and depressed to give a damn. She whispers something incomprehensible when I introduce myself to her, and gestures vaguely toward some empty seats at the back of the class. While I head straight to the last row, she flicks off the lights, and pops in a video about cell cycles.
My stomach is growling so loud right now. I try coughing to disguise the telltale roar, but I know the people around me aren’t fooled.
After a pa rticularly vicious growl, the girl at the desk in front of me turns around, grinning. The first thing I notice about her is her nose, which is large and slightly off-center. Strangely, it works with her face, giving it a quirky appeal. Also, she has some big hair. The wild black curls that swirl around her face give the impression of sentient life. I can easily imagine a lock of it springing out and wrapping itself around my neck.
“Hi,” she says in a loud bright voice. “Your name’s Juliet, right? I’m Tanya. So, where are you from?” Her curls bounce nervously with her most minute movement.
I kind of want to stick a hand out and see if her hair will shake it. “Hey,” I say, sitting up straight, and forcing a smile to my lips. “I actually just transferred from Jefferson.”
“Oh?” She tilts her head, curious and birdlike. “How come?”
Well, there’s one person who hasn’t heard the gossip. I shrug one shoulder. I decide to give her a half-truth. “My grandmother offered to pay for my tuition.”
“Nice grandmother. I have a cousin who goes to Jefferson. Cecily Patel? She’s a sophomore.” She watches me expectantly for recognition.
I shake my head slightly, and smile regretfully. “Sorry, I don’t know her.” Why am I apologizing?
It’s her turn to shrug. “Eh, I’m not surprised. She’s not exactly popular. Got the family nose.” She points proudly to the beaky protuberance on her face. It seems to wiggle a little. Did she do that on purpose? Fascinating!
She twists all the around in her seat so she can face me , swinging her bony legs around. “So, you know Dean Youngblood? I saw you talking to him in the cafeteria.”
She says his name so reverentially, I kind of want to say it, too. To see if she’ll fall to the ground in supplication. The worshipful way she says it cancels out her cool self-deprecation.
She waits breathlessly for me to reply, hair seemingly on the ready to strike. I glance toward the front of the room, checking the alertness level of Ms. Sepulveda. She appears to be asleep with her eyes wide open. Most of the peopl e in class are blatantly taking advantage of her inattentiveness, talking amongst themselves and completely ignoring the
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