Cedar Valley High Series #1
Zaydence Denholm is in trouble. She and her best friend are crushing on the same guy. On her part, she views this as the ultimate betrayal. This crush alongside overbearing and emotionally detached parents, and a complica...
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The students in the cafeteria were like a surplus of bulbs planted in the same hole. Circular tables filled the room. The air was full of lemon-scented cleaning products, which mingled with smells of steaming hot food. The custodians in lime green uniforms stood at the ends of tables, ready to collect lunch trays from the students. The clatter of silverware against plates and the murmur of voices filled the air.
Wyatt and I sat at a table near the mural. Class of 1908 frozen in time on the wall. We packed our own lunches, or in his case, Paula packed his lunch. My lunch consisted of steamed carrots and radish, with a baked potato and roasted chickpeas. The carrots were tender and sweet, and the chickpeas were crispy and savory.
The clink of silverware and the rustle of plastic bags filled the air as students opened their lunches. The nearby tables displayed bright colors of fruits and vegetables and the aroma of kale salads, biryani and quesadillas traveled from across the room.
This morning, Wyatt acquired the otherworldly white cheddar popcorn for me. The popcorn was hot and buttery, with a cheesy flavor that melted in my mouth. The gooey cheese clung to my fingertips, and I licked my lips to savor the taste. I had the appetite of a lion.
Your period's coming.
I emptied the contents of the bag into my mouth, flicking a kernel shell with my tongue.
"They're so good," I closed my eyes, savoring the flavor. I should be sponsored for all of the free advertising. I could talk at length about how much I loved WCP.
The gooey cheese clung to my fingertips.
I licked my lips.
"I beg to differ," Wyatt sank his teeth into his sausage and rice bowl.
He couldn't understand the hoops I would jump through for food.
Mom discovered Dad's mini freezer a few days ago, and now they weren't speaking. Dinner was more awkward than usual this week.
Her firm stance on the receipt decree didn't help. I had to work around it by having Wyatt acquire it for me. The most obvious plan. Almost as if he was my dealer and WCP was my drug of choice.
It is like a drug.
I folded the bag into a square. The rest of my lunch consisted of steamed carrots and radish, with a baked potato and roasted chickpeas. An old favorite. Now it tasted like English class.
My metal fork jumped out of my hand, hitting my bowl with a clang.
Heads turned on swivels.
Eyes and whispers followed Her like a shadow.
Wyatt set his phone down.
She advanced towards us.
I ran my fingers through my kinky hair, trying to smooth down the frizz.
Oh no.
Why is she coming over here?
"Denny, look at this email."Kenna approached us with phone in hand. Her glittery nails shimmered under the fluorescent lighting.
Good morning Kenna,
I would like you to lead a peer tutoring group. Around 4-5 people.
Your responsibility would be to meet twice a week for an hour before school and help students with homework. Respond with which days work for you.
You'll be leading the group with your classmate, Will.
Best regards,
Ms. Ranedi
"Will? Eww," Was all I could muster.
"Honestly," she growled at the phone.
I made the mistake of turning towards Wyatt. My brain was turning to mush thinking of 2 to the x ways I could explain this. His eyes shot arrows at us.
"My bad." She tucked her phone in her skirt pocket and faced Wyatt. "I'm Kenna," she said, as if he didn't already know, and held out her hand for him to shake.
"Wyatt." He lifted his hand slowly to meet hers.
What? He's not bursting into flames?
Kenna's charisma was unbeatable. She grinned and said, "You know when people do that thing where they ask you to do something without the asking part?"
"Yeah," Wyatt cracked a smile.
She nudged me with her shoulder, and I made a spot for her at our table. "Our AP Physics teacher always 'asking'"— Kenna put that in finger quotes—"me to do something for her, and it's irritating."
Wyatt leaned forward. "Should've picked AP Chem."
"Right?!" Kenna said, looking pleased to have found a kindred spirit. "I heard AP Chem is so much better than AP Physics!"
Are they bonding?
What?
What the fuck?
No. No.
"I need bof of em for Computer Science anyways," She pointed to a computer charm on her bracelet.
He's supposed to hate her.
He's supposed to be mad at me.
What in the entire fu—.
She apologized for taking up too much of our time and went on her merry way. The moment was too much to compute. Pun intended.
"What was that?" I whisper-yelled.
"A convo. I can be civil." He pressed down the ironed collar of his shirt.
"Civil? That was borderline friendly."
As I sat there in stunned silence, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe this unexpected interaction between Wyatt and Kenna was a sign that things could be different. Maybe there was a chance for him to stop hating her.
As the lunch period drew to a close and students began to filter out of the cafeteria, I gathered my thoughts and packed up my belongings. Walking down the hallway, I was filled with a sense of uncertainty and unease, wondering what this unexpected turn of events might mean for the future.
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