I follow behind Anna-Kat, happy to leave the noisy cafeteria behind. We're in the hallway when Anna suddenly reaches out and takes my lunch box from my hand.
"Hey!"
"Oops. Should've asked." She offers it back, shrugging apologetically. "Can I hold your hand?" she smiles sort of weirdly. (Weird, because I'm not sure what effect she's trying to achieve.)
My cheeks burn. "Uhh..."
Anna's freckled cheeks pink up as she smiles and I hold out my hand a bit tentatively. I suddenly notice how sweaty my hands are, and I want to pull away.
But I kinda don't want to at the same time.
I really don't want to.
And all this while, Mini Me is running around in my head screaming: SHE'S HOLDING MY HAND! SHE. IS. HOLDING. MY. HAND!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—
"Come with me," Anna says, tugging my arm.
We walk a little down to an empty classroom. She pulls a key out of her jean pocket. "Nobody ever uses here. And it's far from all the noise."
I don't know what to say, so I just keep staring.
She shrugs and explains awkwardly, "I sometimes assist the teachers during study hour, and they let me sit here while I grade papers. It's a little, um… sort of privilege I get. Uh..." She looks down at our shoes, then back up. "Ye-ah..."
I realize my staring must be making her uncomfortable, so I look away as well. My brain is not being helpful, creating all the nasty, never-gonna-happen scenarios, and I'm actively trying not to cover my face and ears from embarrassment.
Anna opens the door, and the smell of damp but dusty old books greets me. They're piled up in a worn-out cardboard box in the corner that looks at least thirty years old.
I like it.
Anna-Kat's footsteps echo as she walks across the tiled floor to a desk near the back.
"Over here, please," she says, gesturing with a silly flourish.
I giggle.
I used to be scared of this goof.
Well, my dumb ahh brain chips in, you still are. You don't freaking know her. And besides, what does she want?
Oh my God. She's gonna—
HUH?!!
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, GIRL?!
"I've always wanted to ask you something but—hey. Are you listening to me?" she asks, sounding a bit annoyed.
"Yeah. I am."
"You seem distracted."
I realize I've been pacing and playing with my nose, a nervous habit of mine. I'm feeling a little tense, and this room suddenly feels tight and uncomfortably hot.
"Uh… Anya? Are you okay?"
"Oh? Yes, I'm fine."
"Come sit by me. Please?"
"Um… no," I mutter, feeling the need to back away toward the door. This is way too intense, my brain screams. I'm getting outta here.
"Are you leaving?" Anna asks, looking hurt.
Something about her face scratches my brain in that way that makes everything glitch.
"Uh… why did you bring me here?"
"Nikki said you don't really like loud spaces. And, well, you've seemed a little sad all day and—"
"Huh?! You've been watching me?" I gasp, a mix of I'm-creeped-out and that's-so-romantic delusions filling my brain.
"Wait—no!" Anna-Kat says hurriedly, getting up and waving her hands in front of her face. "No! I'm not a freaking creep! Please! I just noticed you looked a bit down. And Nikki didn't come to school today, so I wanted to cheer you up a bit."
I don't know what to say, so I just stare right at her, which only seems to makes her more uncomfortable. The thought stings, so I look away.
"So…" she rushes on, "there's like thirteen minutes before lunch ends. Won't you eat?"
"Um, later," I mutter, dropping my lunch box awkwardly on the desk between us. I remember her invitation and timidly shuffle over to the seat beside her.
She keeps looking at me, so I point awkwardly. "Sit."
Anna-Kat sits. I intertwine my sweaty fingers and squeeze, trying to calm my racing heart.
"Soo… I know it's kinda weird that I seem to know a bit about you…" Anna starts with an almost cartoony awkwardness . I instinctively make my "cringe" face.
She is NOT cringe, I immediately correct myself.
"How much?" I ask, trying to force myself to feel interested anymore.
But that box in the corner—possibly moth-infested—pulls my mind somewhere else. Aidan's apartment. That book.
I blush. I haven't touched it since. It's just been collecting dust under my bed.
An idea hits me.
I'm going to Aidan's after school. Nikki's mom definitely wouldn't let her stay home on a school day for whatever reason, so she must be hiding there.
That doesn't explain why her phone is off, but maybe it got confiscated again.
Nikki is fine, I conclude with a sigh.
Why were you acting like she's dead?
"ANYA!"
I jolt back into the moment in a cold sweat.
"You haven't even been listening to me!" Anna-Kat says, a little accusing. "I've been talking, and you haven't even looked up at me."
I scratch at my sweaty neck, suddenly overwhelmed. My hair is sticking to my skin and won't come off. My back is itchy with hair that has gone down in my shirt. I try to subtly push my chair back, but it screeches loudly. I flinch and cover my ears. "Ugh! Fuck!"
"Are you alright?" She reaches out to touch me. I slap her hand away.
"Don't touch me," I snap, standing abruptly. "We can talk later. I'm not really in the mood for this right now." Before she can respond, I grab my things and rush out.
This is why you have no friends.
The bell rings. My chest deflates.
I lean against the wall and stare at the ceiling, hoping for some kind of salvation as
students pour into the hallway five seconds later; sweaty, loud, and overwhelming. The atmosphere immediately goes thick with people-air.
Anna-Kat comes out, locks the door. She doesn't look at me.
She looks hurt.
And I'm sorry.
I was rude. She was just trying to be nice.
I think about calling her back—but by the time my mouth decides to open, she's already too far away.
A couple of seniors stare at me. I ignore them.
Guess I'm going back to the toilet campers, I decide with a deep sigh as I drag myself away from the wall and find my way to the girls' bathroom.
I walk into a cloud of strawberry- and mango-flavored vape smoke. Two girls fixing their hair in the mirror look visibly uncomfortable as they keep glaring at the three loud ones in the far corner puffing and passing and telling everyone's tea. One of them (Morgan, as they call her) even threatens to bring up my case if I don't stop staring.
"Oh, shut up!" an eighth grader in a Hatsune Miku tee (side note: OMG MIKU!!!) snaps, defending me. "Fucking addict. You can't even go an entire day without being a total dick-tube."
Dick-tube?! That's a new one. I like.
"Woah!" Other girls watching chorus. "Savage."
Morgan is shook so she looks at her friends for backup. They have their eyes locked on me and the Miku Kid with their lips curled up in a sort of sneer, their glare saying so much more than I want to hear.
"Girl, shut the fuck up," the tall blonde one with sunken cheeks and visible bones in her arms and shoulders (she is SCARY, man!) screams at the Miku Kid. "You'd better shut the fucking hell up, or I'mma get it done myself."
Honestly, say my intrusive thoughts, they're giving screaming woman and cat meme.Or even that lion and monkey rage bait one.
Not now!! Ugh!
"Make me!" says Miku Kid. "I'mma freaking snap you in two and yeet you to Mars. Toothpick ass! Go buy some actual food and put the vape down!"
"Let it go," I coax from a distance, tugging at her shirt. "Let it go. Let's leave."
"This is why Devon dumped you. And yes, he says I'm a much better fuck than you," Morgan retorts, drawing in some smoke and walking up to Miku Kid to puff it in her face.
Miku Kid slaps her immediately and I genuinely am in shock when this happens. Everyone collectively gasps as Morgan falls to the floor, holding her face.
I want to leave. I want to leave. I want to leave!
"Petty much?" Miku Kid mutters, looking down at Morgan like she'd just scraped her off the bottom of the dirtiest shoe ever.
"Hey!" The third girl finally says. "You better mind your business, Vida! Or else..." Her hand shakes violently as she points at Miku Kid.
Oh, so her name is Vida.
I would continue narrating with her real name, but nah.
I like Miku Kid better.
Before Miku Kid can retort, Morgan is off the floor and clawing at her face. She screams in pain and backs into me. I fall over and slam right into the tile floor, and Miku Kid lands on top of me, knocking the wind out of my body.
Bitch, why didn't you leave? are my last thoughts before being descended upon by the three girls.
Miku Kid is my shield, but she's pinned down and so am I. The three girls (with, unmistakably, beer breath—the cheap kind) are punching and kicking and clawing down at us.
I'm down here being compressed and trying hard to scream like my life depends on it.
Because, duh, it does. I can barely breathe and I'm pinned down on the most unhygienic floor in this building at the bottom of a brawl pile.
And almost none of the people watching are even actively trying to stop this madness.
They either dipped or started filming and encouraging the fight.
Or rather, the beat-up.
Filled with so much rage, I try turning myself over. I get on my elbows and somehow manage to crawl out of the brawl.
"Hey!" somebody says. "Isn't that the girl who's besties with that girl that got suspended yesterday?"
I freeze. I turn around. It's Andrea, the principal's oldest daughter who's in senior year. She has her blue sparkly phone case facing me. She points right at me, talking to the other girls standing around who are also busy filming.
I'm too confused, overwhelmed, shocked, and embarrassed to deal with this right now. I put up my hands to cover my face as the tears pour down and run out of the bathroom, trying to escape whatever is going on.
And then, I slam face-first into the principal. He does NOT look happy.