Disconnected *ENG*

The day I'm not going to exercise

MoodKiller: Damn, girl.

PinkGirl: Haha, sorry.

MoodKiller: I thought it would be something like: why are the fries in the cafeteria always so rubbery or why can't I find a boyfriend? But here you've started a real conversation.

PinkGirl: I planned to get to the boyfriend part eventually, lol.

MoodKiller: So... I won't answer the first question. Not that I don't want to, I've just never thought about it. All in all, I feel a bit like I belong to this group with the package, so...

PinkGirl: Really?

MoodKiller: Yeah, I'm handsome, rich, smart...

PinkGirl: Okay, okay, got it. What about the second question?

MoodKiller: So you expect love advice from me?

PinkGirl: Yes, for free. You're rich, you can afford it.

MoodKiller: Funny, but okay. My advice is: DO NOTHING.

PinkGirl: What do you mean, "do nothing"?

MoodKiller: Just that. Do nothing. Whatever you wanted to do—let it go. Don't push yourself into any relationships; it doesn't help. Statistically, half of marriages end in divorce, so you only have a 50% chance of being happy. For me, that's not enough.

PinkGirl: Maybe for someone, a 50% chance of happiness is enough?

MoodKiller: And a 50% chance of divorce.

PinkGirl: But I'm only 15! Who's talking about marriage? I just like this boy...

MoodKiller: Like I said, do nothing. Do you want to be heartbroken?

PinkGirl: Nobody wants that.

MoodKiller: Are your parents still together?

PinkGirl: Theoretically yes, practically no.

MoodKiller: You see?

PinkGirl: But it's not what you think. It's, in fact, a very long story...

➿➿➿

"I forgot about today's trigonometry test."

I lift my head and look at Jen, who first sets the tray of food on our table, then throws her bag into one of the empty seats, and finally collapses resignedly into the chair across from me. She can do that. Nobody will sit next to us anyway.

"Welcome to the club. As the worst daughter in the world, I took advantage of the fact that my father had a night shift last night, and instead of studying, I watched Riverdale until one in the morning," I say.

Exactly. Not only am I an outcast, but I'm also struggling in school. I don't even qualify for the circle of the gifted—I'm one of those lazy people. But that's fine. I don't feel pressured because I can't afford to study, so I've long since accepted that I'll probably end up selling Mary Kay cosmetics in our neighborhood. When old Mrs. Peterson dies, of course, because I'm not going to steal her clients.

But back to the point: Jennifer is a head taller than me, has long blonde hair always tied tightly at the back of her head, and she's the only one in school who has never called me crazy. Well, unless it's in jest, but that's different. She moved here from Cleveland three years ago, and with no idea she was smiling at a social outcast, she crossed herself off the list of potentially popular girls at school forever.