"OKAY, SO IN THE month of March, I have Mahashivratri and Holi. I don't think I can attend any this year. I have an internship," Elle says out loud as she writes in her planner.
"I don't see why you're using that thing this late," Jeremy says, a mouth full of his sandwich. He leans over and flips through the empty pages.
"And I also got myself a date with Roma. Along with you two."
"So a group activity?" Camila asks.
"You guys stay out of my business though. I just don't want it to be awkward," Elle says.
"Can I bring Laurent?" she asks.
A silence falls over their picnic table. It's a bright day, thick white clouds floating over the sun and wind scattering the leaves in the courtyard.
"Since when were you two," Jeremy says, waving his hand with his soda, "friends?"
"We aren't but I want to be."
"You're thirsty," Elle says.
Jeremy coughs into his shoulder, a cough that sounds a lot like Roma.
"When does lunch end today?" Camila asks. She takes a look at the watch she has on her left wrist.
"You don't have class this afternoon though," Elle points out.
"Shouldn't you know, Elle? Being exec president and all? What do you guys even do at student council except for making empty promises."
"Jeremy, I am this close to—"
"Oh my gosh!" Camila jumps up from her seat. "I'm supposed to go see my counsellor."
She throws the notebook she was doodling on into her bag which she then slings over her shoulder and heads off. Elle kicks out her legs to claim Camila's empty seat.
There's not a lot of things Elle would hide from people. One of the consequences she faces from not sleeping adequately is her complete inability to control her filter. Or it could just be her personality. She's constantly boasting that she never lies—only doing so when she needs to.
"Okay, I do think she'll be cute with Laurent," Jeremy admits.
"It's like five or four months till graduation, what harm can he do?" Elle agrees. She stretches further. "I'm ready to go home, order some cheese sticks, and nap."
"Get a fucking hobby," he says. "I've got practice until six and dinner with the team."
"Hey, I got a hobby."
"Nobody believes you when you say you're a film buff."
"Alright Jeremy. But while you were spending time into your hobby, I was getting my way to valedictorian."
"Nobody's going to remember who's valedictorian twenty years from now. In fact," he continues, "twenty years from now, high school won't even matter."
"Everyone knows that, Jeremy."
"Whatever."
So after they walk to the lockers and Elle gets her sneakers, Jeremy walks her to the parking lot where they stand under the sun because Elle can't locate her car keys.
"Kick as many balls into as many balls as possible!" she says as a farewell.
Jeremy stands with his hands in his pocket, varsity bag sliding down his shoulder with a face of mock revulsion. He waves and heads off to his last period. Once he's gone, Elle sits in her car and checks her notifications. As she turns her head up to drive home, she notices someone approaching from a distance.
"Get out of the way before I hit you," she yells out her open window.
She sees blonde hair fluttering in the breeze and she sighs. She's a bad driver but she wouldn't run someone over.
"Yes?" she asks.
"Let's chat," Laurent says.
Elle's eyes flick over the acetate sunglasses he has perched on his nose.
"Yeah?" she continues.
"About your friend."
"Jeremy?"
"Camila."
"You could buy me dinner first."
"Can't. Have dinner with the team."
"It's a saying. I have other uses than to supply you with information. Make nice with me first."
"We've known each other since middle school. Elle. Arora. How's your dad? I miss him."
"Ugh. Get in the car."