Disconnected

2

Chapter 2

The lunchroom at my school is always crowded. The line for food winds through the hallways, people desperately waiting to get something into their stomachs. Normally, I'll just snatch something from the vending machine, like pop-tarts or something. But today, I'm not feeling very hungry. 

Gripping my book tightly, I make my way over to the library, Michelle and I's official meeting point during lunch. Usually, I'm the first one there, because Michelle is almost always late for everything. But today, I'm greeted surprisedly by the temporarily colored gray haired girl with the washed out jeans and oversized sweater. 

"Hey," I manage, setting myself down beside her. She's nose deep into something on her laptop, not paying attention to me, so I decide to just start working on my Geometry homework I forgot to do the night before.

It's not until I'm on the last essay question when Michelle finally says something. "So, I'm working on something," she says, releasing a long sigh, continuously tapping her fingers on the keyboard.

"Working on what?" I question her, my eyes wandering to the dim screen. A picture of a man and a woman holding hands and kissing catches my attention, questions popping into my head. "Is that a ... dating website? Since when do you like online dating?" I watch her fingers move delicately across the keyboard.

Michelle says silent for awhile, making me completely sure she didn't hear me, but I don't bother to ask again. She just keeps on typing, stopping every once and awhile to think and take a bite of her turkey sandwich. Instead of picking a fight, I decide to go back to finishing my homework.

Why do they make us learn this stuff anyways?  I ask myself, rushing through the questions without thinking twice.  It's not like I'm going to use all of this in real life. Everything in this textbook contains some sort of formula that I'll never use unless I decide to become some sort of rocket-scientist or veterinarian. And since the odds of that happening are slim ...

"It's not for me," Michelle states, drawing me out of my boring conversation with myself about math. With one last click of her mouse, she turns to look at me and smiles brightly, like she's just given me two million dollars and expects appraisal. 

"What?" I ask, making her smile fade a little.

She rolls her tongue around in her mouth and turns her computer screen in my direction. I furrow my brows, not getting at what she's trying to tell me. My eyes scan the page, looking at the identification tab. The name reads Quinn Nicole Anderson; age 17; single.

As soon as I go to open my mouth, Michelle turns the computer back towards herself and holds out her hand, motioning for me to be quiet. "Look, I know this might seem a little bit unhelpful and stupid," she starts, talking really fast to keep me from interrupting. "But I think it's the perfect thing for you! I sent you the username and password for your account, so you can log on on your own time. Just take a change Q! I mean, this could be your ticket to homecoming!"

I sigh, taking a moment to think this over. "Suppose the guy I meet isn't from our school," I say slowly, rolling my eyes at the thought of talking to anyone from this trash can of a school. "And can't you just give up the idea of homecoming?! If it makes you feel better, I already have a date with my couch. And he's already bringing the snacks."

Michelle scoffs. "You can't just put off being in a relationship forever."

Gathering up my books and pushing a strand of hair behind my ear, I utter, "Watch me."

"Quinn!" She whines, pulling on my wrist and preventing me from getting up. "Come on! I'm just trying to help you! It's not like I'm just flinging some random guy on you."