Silver Stilettos

14 | hoes over bros

Dating Reed came with its perks. I was suddenly propelled up Hammerfeld High's hierarchy. It seemed like no sooner had my feet settled on one rung of the ladder that an invisible force behind me gave me another push, sending me scrabbling to find secure footing again.

It started small.

Insignificant things that other people might have brushed off as normal, but which made me glow with pride. Lenox Hill started finding ways to walk with me to class, even when we weren't going to the same place.

Baron Fernley got my number from Emily Vargas who got it from who even knew, and sent me mean quips during class about how Mr. Hannigan's toupee wobbled when he got excited about science and whether Ms. Cole had an unplanned bun in the oven or she'd just put on weight.

Then it got a little bigger.

One day, Emily handed me a revoltingly pink, heart-shaped invitation to her girls-only slumber party. I declined to go, claiming I had family obligations—which was the best excuse to use when trying to get out of something, because everyone knew how impossible it was to get out of a family function, and no one cared enough to ask what you were doing or who was going to be there—but the important thing was that I had been asked.

Kids I didn't even know began to seek me out, just to say Hey or compliment my outfit. Even when I wasn't even trying and came to school in a baggy sweatshirt and too-loose jeans, I got casual, appreciative smiles and invites to hang out after school at trendy juice bars or basement parties.

"It's like you're a different person," Matt commented, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie as we got lunch in the cafeteria.

Today it was gross rectangular pizza with an inch of goopy cheese, saturated in its own oil, accompanied by thick-cut french fries, sprinkled with salt, and dotted with brown eyes that the cooks—and I used the word loosely—hadn't poked out.

"I'm the same person," I said, forgoing the food and just grabbing a small brown carton of chocolate milk from the open fridge.

"You're popular now - ergo, not the same person." Matt picked up a blue Gatorade instead of milk. "You're practically a superior species."

"You're ridiculous, Matt." I exchanged a smile with the lunch lady monitoring payment before punching my student ID into the keypad at the end of the serving line. "I'm the same Mayuri I've always been."

The lunch lady glanced at my milk, rang up my total, and I watched as the balance in my lunch account blinked from the keypad. I stepped away, popping open the milk and taking a sip while I waited for Matt.

Standing off the to side while he paid for his lunch gave me the opportunity to scan the cafeteria. Reed and Baron were sitting together with Emily, Lenox, and other girls from our grade. Suspiciously, Dominika and Fenris were nowhere in sight. It was weird, because they'd started out the school year very chummy with Reed, but ever since they'd hooked up, they'd been keeping their distance. Instead of sitting on either side of him the way they used to, they now perched on one end of the lunch table, away from the others.

And today, they weren't even there at all.

"Today is the first day in the last couple of weeks that your schedule has opened up," said Matt, coming up behind me with his tray of suspect "nutritional", state-approved food.

"What?"

We walked toward the nearest empty table. I made a face as I used the tip of my fingernail to flick a piece of pizza sauce-coated sausage away. It slid unevenly, bump bump bump, to the far side of the table, leaving a trail the color of blood. Matt watched the meat's trajectory and tossed a napkin over it so neither of us would have to make eye contact.