Wish by Alexandra Bullen

threatening to swallow her whole.
    Violet cleared her throat and hopped down from the table. “Well,” she said brightly. “The other good news is that there’s always tomorrow.”
    It was finally lunchtime, and Violet was close to throwing in the towel.
    For the most part, she had reported with irritation, Olivia wasn’t even making any kind of effort to have fun. And when she did, it definitely wasn’t the right kind.
    First, there was the incident in studio art. Despite Violet’surging to sit at a table with some of the kids Olivia recognized from the party and homeroom—Austin, a pixie-haired blonde, and her boyfriend, the dreadlocked bass player Nemo, or Reno, or some other two-syllable word that wasn’t actually a name—Olivia had chosen a seat by herself in an alcove by the materials closet.
    The class was working on self-portraits, and while Austin and Tevo flipped through vintage photographs and album covers for inspiration, Olivia was stuck watching a gumsmacking goth girl work on an impressively scary piece of chain-link armor.
    Remembering Violet’s advice, Olivia turned to the gloomy girl and cleared her throat.
    “How long do you think that will take?” Olivia asked with confidence. “Until your armor’s finished, I mean.”
    The girl turned her languid eyes and downturned pouty lips in Olivia’s direction. “A lifetime,” she mournfully replied, before snapping another link in place.
    Violet dropped her head dramatically on the table.
    Next had been Eastern religious studies, which Violet had insisted they switch into, claiming that Olivia needed to be exposed to more interesting people and actually learn something, as opposed to re-memorizing the dates of the Hundred Years’ War.
    Violet had been right, for the most part, and so far the class had involved lively discussions about whose mother had converted to Buddhism on which trip to India and what Angelina Jolie’s Tibetan tattoos really meant. Violet was so totally enraptured by the conversation about the exotic birthplaces and/or travel destinations of everyone in the classthat she seemed to have forgotten her self-appointed role as Olivia’s life coach.
    Olivia absentmindedly doodled on the back of her binder, wondering what the Chinese symbol for “failure” was.
    And then, at long last, lunch. Golden Gate was on a rotating schedule, with four different lunch periods, which meant that some mornings Olivia was forced to eat a tuna sandwich at some ungodly breakfast hour, and other days it was all she could do to keep her growling stomach from digesting itself way past noon.
    Today she was somewhere in the middle, and so, it seemed, was everybody else: The courtyard was beyond packed as she made her way inconspicuously to a quiet corner by the pond.
    As soon as she’d settled onto a rock and started to pull out the rest of her bagel, Violet dragged her up onto her feet and marched her back inside. “I have two words for you,” she announced as they pushed their way through the glass doors and stepped onto the tree-lined street. “Open. Campus.”
    “I’m not hungry,” Olivia muttered as Violet skipped down the block. She’d hoped that Violet’s appearance would have signaled the return of her appetite, as well. But so far, no such luck.
    “Fake it,” was Violet’s advice. “Or get a tea. People love their tea around here, huh?”
    Olivia tore the sleeve of her sweater free from Violet’s vise grip and pulled her sister into a sunken alley in the middle of the block.
    “Face it,” Olivia sighed. “I suck at this. It isn’t me. Can’t we just call it a day?”
    Violet threw her hands in the air. “You’re not even trying ,” she yelled. “It’s like you don’t even want to make friends.”
    Olivia shrugged and leaned back against the brick wall of the building behind her.
    “Why do I have to?” she asked, quietly. “I mean, you’re here now. Right?”
    Olivia saw Violet’s features soften out of the corner