Because You're Different ✔

2. Lunch date

June

I'd known this wasn't going to be easy. Back home, I'd had my family, my cousins and nieces and nephews. I'd never had to make friends. Most of my family had known me since I was born, and even the ones that didn't like me as much still protected me — blood was blood, after all. So, when my dad had told me he'd been offered a job in California, California of all places, and that he had to take it, my first reaction was that I was going to miss him so bad.

Then, I'd realized if I stayed in New York, mom would stay with me, and I'd be responsible for two broken hearts. My dad couldn't survive without me, let alone without mom, the love of his life, and my mom couldn't survive without dad. There was no other choice. I'd have to move to Cali, where I wouldn't be shielded by Valentina and David. Possibly, my life was going to be hell. But I didn't want to worry mom and dad — it was hard enough for them already — and pretended to see it all as one big adventure. "At least, it's gonna be hot in Cali," I'd said to Valentina.

"There's a lot that's hot in Cali," she'd said with a grin. "Can you bring me back a sexy surfer boy when you return, June? I'm sure there's enough for the both of us."

It was now my third week in California, and I hadn't seen one single sexy surfer boy yet. Maybe I was too busy not getting my lunch stolen or laughed at, or maybe the movies lied to you, and they just didn't exist. I missed Valentina. Surely, we would've been able to find them together.

It hurt when I remembered our goodbye party. Valentina and I had dressed up together like we'd done so many times in our lives, and she'd done my make-up, and I could borrow one of her dresses — my abuela hadn't liked that, she'd said "Valentina! Has visto a la sobrina? ¡Parece una puta!" — and we had danced through her room together, to our favorite songs. I'd felt just as pretty as her, but here in California, I'd had yet to feel that way.

It was lunchtime again, which meant I had a date with Matt Granton. I thought he was starting to like me — he definitely did pay attention to me more and more. I'd asked Valentina what to do about him, but she'd said I should put him in the hospital, and I didn't think that was a very realistic solution.

"Oh, hi Matt!" I said as I saw him approach me. He could've been cute if he didn't have that vapid look on his face — and if he hadn't been an ass, of course. "You're late. What's on the menu for today? Insulting my mom, insulting my dad, insulting me, or pushing me against the wall?"

A lot of people probably thought I was a fool for talking back to him, only I couldn't just let him get away with it. It wasn't in my nature to let go. So, I used the only weapon I had, the weapon of usually being smarter than most people in the room. And when you had a disability, people really tended to dislike you being smarter than them. It made their judgy selves feel even more ignorant.

"Shut your mouth, you spaz! No one can understand what you're saying anyway."

Sigh. He wasn't very creative. I'd heard this one from him six times already. The thing bullies like Matt Granton didn't get was that it hurt more when someone you actually liked said stuff like that. When it came from him, it didn't mean anything.

"L-leave her alone."

Equally baffled, Matt Granton and I turned to the boy who had spoken. I'd seen him before, I thought? Maybe in class? He didn't stand out much, and he didn't look particularly brave either. In fact, right now, I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd piss his pants.

"You have some lunch to share as well, asshat?"

And, unsurprisingly, the boy and I ended up in a heap on the floor, my mom's left-over pasta stolen once again. I couldn't blame Matt. Her cooking was extraordinary, and once you'd tasted it, you never wanted something else. Maybe I should start adding something gross to my lunches.

"Thank you for standing up for me," I said to the boy.

"Oh... yeah... well, my—... it was no big deal," he muttered, flushing red. After checking if no one was looking at us, he extended his hand, but I ignored him and stood up on my own. He seemed offended, taking a step back.

"It's easier for me to get up my own way," I explained. We were being watched, and somehow, moving had always been more difficult when I was in the spotlight. I could easily cook when it was only abuela and me, though once others joined, I became clumsy and would spill olive oil or add too much salt.

"Oh, of course." The boy avoided my gaze. What on earth had possessed him to come to my aid? "Err, you want some lunch? I got some money that Matt didn't take."

"Oh no, I don't wanna take your hard-earned money." Although, judging by his clothes, he seemed well-off. His jeans were certainly new, and that T-shirt might seem plain, yet the tiny brand logo on the left sleeve told me it hadn't been cheap.

"No, it's fine. I won't miss a dollar or two."

"Well, in that case... I'm freaking starving! Is the food any good here?"

Now he finally looked at me, blinking slowly. It was as if he couldn't believe he was really talking to me. "Yeah, I suppose. Not as good as your mom's cooking, probably."

I smiled at him. "Nothing's as good as my mom's cooking. Dad says they send her paella here straight down from heaven." He smiled as well, rubbing his forearms. "I'm June. June Mercedes Guevara Aranda."

"I'm Sam. Sam Redstone." He shrugged. "I don't really have more names than that."

I sighed. Lucky guy. "Must be nice when you have to call the doctor."

"I've never called a doctor."

"Again, must be nice. Although, that might change soon if you plan to keep on getting between Matt and me. He's really fond of me, you know."

He snickered, finally realizing I was joking, and I felt good at the thought I was going to be able to tell Valentina I had made a friend.