Right about now during lunch time, for reasons unknown, I feel lonely. So lonely in fact, I can't concentrate long enough and stare or else I'll cry – in front of people.
The cafeteria is bursting with live bodies, jocks and cheerleaders giggling and having conversations that may or may not be unknown to those that are not in their circle but I can pretty much guess what it is they are talking about.
Robert had laid this one girl who had finally caved in and let him do her. She felt sorry for him of course but that is not the story that he is telling his friends.
His goes like this: "Dude, the party last night was so off the hook, this girl was like so over me."
"Like totallyyyy," Charlie Hudson goes, her voice going high pitch but she singsong the words.
As I sit here on the bench, completely away from view; I can still hear them and it's taking every inch of me not to go over and be "totallyyyy" bad ass about it but I have too much pride to sully my reputation.
One that I completely do not have, if you ask me but you did not.
A girl passes by and I can see her drooling but not over her food but at Josh who's the head of the lower dogs in his crew.
"Sup?" he goes, and the girl felt like dying. Her face content enough due to the fact that she has been acknowledged.
Though once out of reach, Charlie said, "she totally wants the D."
"Totally," Nate said but she rolled her eyes.
I'm beginning to think that the word "totally" is their favorite word especially Charlie because she uses it a lot.
I look down at my phone, five minutes before the bell rings. Unlike them, I have to eat since I doubt that I'll find anything at home.
I gulf down my leftover mashed potatoes with gravy (not likely), eat couple fries and then finish off my orange juice.
"Whoa," someone goes but I don't dare look to see who it is. I wipe my mouth and walk out the door before the hallway to class gets crowded with "total" losers.
*
"What's the new trend going on this year?" Mrs. Holloway goes, expecting the worse but no one truly gives a damn.
"Come on, guys." She goes on, "make me proud."
Someone clears their throat, and another shifts in their seats.
"Anything?"
Someone begrudgingly raise their hands saving the other nonparticipants from answering such monstrous question.
"Well..." I strain my neck to see who has sacrificed their self. It's Kyoko, from the third row who sits not too close to the back door but not too far from it either.
"People have been body shaming Selena Gomez lately."
"Oh, how marvelous," The teacher claps both hands together. I see some frowns, and some raise eyebrows – confusion going around.
I don't think it meant "how marvelous" that people are body shaming her but how marvelous that Kyoko had took the bait and brought something up.
She clarifies, "My apologies, I take it she's a fan?"
Some students shrug, Mrs. Holloway nods and then go write on the board.
"Good, very good; for today's class, we can discuss body shaming and for your assignment," she turns to us after she finishes. "You'll write two to three pages of whether or not you think it is a good thing."
And the final emotion of the day is some groan.
Sitting far back to the left, an earplug in my ear which is barely seen for I hid it well; I sit there listening to Worth It by Fifth Harmony as I look out the window, the volume low enough for me to hear students asking if or not they can have partners.
"Do as you like," the teacher said, glad to have them occupy themselves while she checks her phone.
I'm glad she says that because there's no way I'd want to partner with anyone especially not in this class.
Last class of the day for me is math, thinking about my English assignment; I'm lost, thinking of who I can partner with, if I do decide to work with a partner.
I'd do it with Hannah, my best friend but she's in a different class than me and the other person I can think of also have Mrs. Holloway but I doubt we'd have the same topic.
I shake it off. I walk to class and there sitting in front of my desk is her, Morgan. Her head facing my way rather than hers, she's absentmindedly drawing something on my desk.
"Yes," I walk to her and drop my bag on the chair with a thump. Startled, she falls back then looks up at me. "Can I help you with something?" I'm still standing, not wanting to close the space between us (not that much).
"Um," she stammered. "Sorry, would it be weird to say that your desk called me to it?"
"Huh?" I asked, puzzled.
"I thought so," she turns around.
I wait a minute before I can sit, when I did, while getting ready for class; I spot her scribbles on my desk.
It reads
A & M forever ❤
I read it over and over again, trying to figure out whose name starts with the letter A, a hard task considering that there are hundreds of students in this whole school and I don't know Morgan enough to know who A might be.
Suddenly I feel like I'm in Pretty Little Liars, the world is turning around me; I feel dizzy, thankful that I'm already sitting, I grip the sides of the desk, take deep breaths as I will the ink to go away.
It doesn't help the fact that they are facing me and not towards her back, I take a deep breath then slam my notebook hard on the desk where the writings are, hiding it from view. Morgan is startled but she keeps her composure.
"You okay there," Mr. Lance asks.
"Peachy" I answer between clenched teeth.
By the end of class, I've convinced myself that I do not care, no not all, not about Morgan or who this A is. Not even when she turned around later on and asked,
"Still coming with me?"
"Why would I come anywhere with you?" I asked, "I don't even know you." I add, she's hurt, I know it but rather than say, "I do not mean it, not at all," I walk away from her and everything that might have been.
YOU ARE READING
Our Darkest Deeds (Lesbian Story)
Teen Fiction"Girls liking girls is an abomination," they say. Well, so should clubbing, doing drugs and selling your daughter to prostitution just to pay off debts ... Which is what Hannah's, Mia's best friend, father did. Now it's up to her to free Hannah from...
