A Girl Named Sweetie

1. The Meeting

Sweetie's POV
"Thank you so much!" I chirp, throwing the lunch lady a smile as she drops a handful of carrots into my tray, scattering them amongst the mush that I'd assume is some type of meat.

She nods at me, having little time to respond before the next student moves their tray along the never ending line.

As I weave my way through the cafeteria and towards my usual table somewhere in the middle of the large room, I wonder in anticipation if Lily will be eating with me today.

Lily's not my only friend, but she's not not my only friend. I talk to people once in a while, usually for the purpose of homework help or for the sake of small talk. Lily, however, is the one who I really talk to, the one who knows me deeper than my smiles and polite conversations.

She's also sort of an enigma, coming and going as she pleases, disappearing and reappearing in peoples lives. She's friends with a lot of people, and although she really isn't the type to settle in one place, she and I have found family in each other, sharing a bond that can't be broken by distance. But it's really nice when she's with me, tangible and undeniable.

That's why it's just the slightest bit disappointing when I see two empty chairs  rather than one at our small wooden table.

Letting out a small sigh, I continue down the linoleum flooring under the flickering fluorescent lights. As I set down my tray, careful so as not to drop anything, my phone buzzes in my back pocket.

A text from my classmate Claire shows up on my usually empty home screen, reading: Where are you? I thought we were meeting in Ms. Smith's room to study for the English test.

I look up at the analog clock that sits above the fire exit, smiling in relief. It's only 11:35 - she must be mixed up.

Biting into one of the carrots on my plastic plate, I type out a quick response: We've still got another hour, but I can come earlier if you'd like!

As I tap my fingernails against the stained table, I can't help but wonder about the ending of the book I'm currently reading: The Theory of Everything. If I were alone, I'd simply take it out and read the next chapter, but Lily says that reading in school, and I quote, "doesn't really help my social status."

Soon, my phone buzzes again, lighting up with another text from Claire: I hope you're not looking at the clock in the cafeteria. Joe Takney knocked it down yesterday when he was playing "inside football" with his idiot friends. The clock's all fucked up now. Are you coming or what?

At that I frown, unappreciative of the language. I truly don't understand cussing, it doesn't get anybody anywhere and doesn't serve much of a purpose - wait, did she say the clock is messed up?

Frantic, I glance at the little clock on my phone, and sure enough, it's 12:35. How did I miss that?

I hastily grab my bright yellow backpack from the floor, toss my half eaten lunch into the trash can to my right, and take off sprinting out of the cafeteria.

As the cacophony of voices fades out while I rush through the labyrinth of hallways, I refuse to slow down. I'm never late - it's inconvenient, and frankly, quite rude. With this thought, I quicken my pace, feeling my legs burn with every step.

I do eventually stop dead in my tracks, however, when I knock my forehead into something - or rather, someone. I hear my bag drop to the floor with a dull thud, and brace myself to follow after it. However, the impact never comes; I find myself hovering off the ground a bit, and being held in an uncomfortable position in someone's arms.

Struggling out of the person's grasp, I begin apologizing.

"Gosh, I'm so sorry, I was just trying to get to Ms. Smith's room and I must have forgotten to look where I was going... oh, did I hurt you? I hope I didn't, I can be a bit clumsy and I always wind up knocking someone over or stepping on their toes, and—"

"It's fine," says the person, or rather, the boy, rather tersely.

Finally looking at him after gathering the spilled contents of my backpack, I feel even worse. His mossy green eyes are angry, boring into mine as if trying to melt my head with laser vision.

"I promise I won't do it again, is there any way I can make it up to you? I think I have a coupon in my bag for one free ice cream at The Freezer, they've got really good stuff there and I'm sure that—"

"Whatever," he grumbles, cutting me off again, and pushing past me to continue down the hallway.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I begin down the hallway again, walking in the opposite direction.

Maybe he doesn't like ice cream.

•••
[AN: Hey y'all, sorry for the short chapter! They'll be much longer from now on, I just needed to introduce the main characters, so I'll really get started with the story when I write a little more. I'm not a fan of author's notes at the end of each chapter, so this won't be a regular occurrence. I just wanted to say thanks for reading, and I'll update as often as possible.]