"It says here that we need to cut the bell peppers in small cubes," I murmured, squinting my eyes to read the fine print. "And then we also need to cut onions."
Nevaeh didn't speak for a second, blinking once. Her gaze went to the onion, and she looked at it, "I'll do the onion, you do the peppers."
"Okay. Do you have everything you need?"
She scanned her utensils and nodded, "Yep." She started peeling her onion, so I took a handful of bell peppers to the classroom sink to wash them.
About four minutes later, I was finished chopping my veggies. "I'm done cutting my bell peppers," I announced to Nevaeh. I waited for a reply, but it didn't come. I turned and watched her. She was still cutting her onions and froze when I saw a tear dripping down her cheeks. Another tear fell, and she wiped it away with her wrist sleeve. "Nevaeh?" I asked gently, and when she didn't respond, I raised my voice slightly. "Nevaeh?"
She snapped up, eyes meeting mine. Confusion was in her eyes, and she furrowed her eyebrows. "Hmm?"
"Are you okay?" I inquired.
She looked around for a second, still puzzled. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"
I gestured to her face. "You're crying."
Nevaeh blinked at me for a split second before her mouth broke out into a grin. It was the first time I'd ever seen her smile, and I had to admit: it definitely suited her. "I'm cutting onions, Adrian."
I was bewildered, "Yeah, so? How could onions make you cry?"
She snorted, slapping her hand over her mouth.
"Wait, Nevaeh, seriously. What did the onion's do?"
A giggle escaped her lips and she fell into full-blown hysteria. Laughter bubbled from her, and she gripped the counter to steady herself. People around the room started watching us, bewildered. I looked like a complete idiot, not knowing what to do. Also, nobody'd ever seen Nevaeh Anderson laugh, and it was a first for everyone.
Nevaeh continued giggling, and her knees looked like they were about to give out. I tapped her on the shoulder, "Uh, you okay?"
She nodded rapidly, attempting to take a few deep breaths. But, once again, her eyes met mine and she fell into another fit of laughter. A few long seconds later, she finally calmed down and studied me, smirking slightly.
"You've never heard that onion causes crying?"
I jogged my memory, "No I don't think I— oh."
She shook her head, "Oh?" There was a grin plastered on her face, and I felt like an idiot.
"I completely forgot about that."
She snorted, "Forgot or didn't know?"
"I knew!" I whined, "I promise! It just didn't cross my mind."
YOU ARE READING
skin and bonesTeen Fiction
❝hey, what's that?❞ ❝n-nothing.❞ ❝...is that a food diary?❞ ➵ Nevaeh Anderson has been struggling with anorexia since the beginning of the school year. She's seventeen, in 12th grade, and she aims to only eat the least amount of food...