Affinity

Chapter 5: Campaign

I apologize. This is a seriously long chapter.

"You going to eat that?"

Nastia sat at the teal round table in her school's cafeteria with her small friends group. The dwarf named Savannah Wicker who had just asked Nastia for food held her hands together, her bottom lip threatening to pop out. She surrendered her sugar cookie in exchange for Savannah's fruit cup. The small human did a little celebratory dance in her seat. "Thanks!"

Why am I surrounded by such clowns? She thought to herself amused. Out loud, she said, "No problem, but you should really take it easy on the cookies. You take mine and Pam's almost every day. It's not healthy."

Reina chuckled. "Savannah is a twig. She needs the fat."

Well, true, Nastia thought, looking down at the petite, flat-chested blonde who probably still bought her clothes in the kids section.

With her light blonde hair that would have darkened for most teens by now, Savannah was the exact opposite of her other friend, Reina. Where Savannah was short, Reina was tall. Where Savannah was a peppy ball of enthusiasm, Reina was a sarcastic pit of skepticism. Where Reina was blessed (or cursed, depending on your viewpoint) with voluptuous curves, Savannah had what could only be described as mosquito bites. Where Savannah's face was clean without even a hint of foundation, Reina had carefully-applied makeup on every day. And where Savannah had pale, Norwegian features, Reina was Hispanic; though Reina didn't know any more Spanish than what Mr. Martinez taught in class.

"We will have to start calling you Cookie Monster again," Pam laughed.

"Okay, Elmo!" Savannah teased. "Let's see. Reina was Big Bird because of her height. What was Nastia?"

The question was innocent enough, but Nastia cursed them all for bringing up these stupid names they came up with freshman year. She went back to eating her fries determined to ignore all of them for the rest of the lunch hour.

"Oscar because she is a grouch," Reina said with a smirk.

"And I suddenly remember why these nicknames didn't survive the test of time," Pam remarked purse lipped.

"I don't live in a trash can," Nastia remarked through clenched teeth.

So much for ignoring them.

"For all we know, you do," Reina said, shrugging.

"If I could dress like Nastia, I'd gladly live in a trash can." Savannah looked at Anastasia's off-white blouse, maroon skirt, and matching heels with unmasked envy. "You are way too gorgeous!"

"Thank you but you don't need pretty clothes to look pretty, Savannah," Nastia supplied, grateful to her for changing the subject.

Savannah waved off the compliment. "Aw. You're just saying that."

Reina shook her head. "No, she's not. Nastia doesn't give out compliments freely. What was it you said about my make up last week? I 'look like I just finished my shift on the street corner'."

"You asked what I thought. If you didn't want the truth, don't ask me," Nastia pointed out defensive.

Her three friends all started laughing. And Reina said, "I'm just kidding! I know what to expect if I ask you for your opinion on anything."

A sour aftertaste lingered in Anastasia's mind. Her and Reina didn't always see eye to eye. In fact, sometimes she was very sure the girl didn't really like her. Like how she'd say something just to contradict whatever Nastia said in a discussion. Pam assured her this wasn't true.

"Reina suffers from resting bitch face. That's all," the redhead would say. Nastia wouldn't be too convinced considering it wasn't just her face, but her words and tone that made her question what Reina really thought.