ADDIE
SO TODAY—TWO days after Mr. Bennett first invited me and I’ve been floating around on a cloud—I’ll be going to the first meeting of Reflections, the poetry magazine. It’s almost enough to make everything okay.
Almost.
But despite how much I’m looking forward to the meeting, it doesn’t entirely take the sting out of the fact that I have eaten lunch alone every day since the school year started. If I join a table of students who I already know, they glance at me and make a concerted effort to ignore me, like I don’t exist. So it’s less painful to find an empty table.
When my mother asks me how things are going at school, I pretend like things are getting better. Like I’m starting to make some friends, even though it’s a blatant lie. Everyone loved Mr. Tuttle so much, and the general feeling is that whatever happened between the two of us, it’s my fault and also super gross. So everyone is still avoiding me. Probably forever.
It’s just as well I’m sitting alone at lunch today, because it gives me a chance to try to figure out what the hell is going on in math class. I’ve got the trig textbook out in front of me, and I’m reading it, but it might as well be in Greek for all it helps me. Actually, some of it really is in Greek. Like that circle symbol with a line through it, whatever that is.
Without Mr. Tuttle tutoring me, I am in serious danger of failing this semester. Even a few weeks into the term, it’s starting to feel hopeless. And it’s pretty clear that Mrs. Bennett is not going to go above and beyond the way he did.
Just as I’m trying to understand why graphing a particular equation creates this weird squiggly line, something jolts my arm. I look up, and none other than Kenzie Montgomery is standing over me, holding her tray stacked with food. There is zero chance that Kenzie wants to join me for lunch, so I already know this is going to be something bad.
“Hey,” Kenzie says. “One person can’t take up a whole empty table.
You need to move.”
I look down at my tray of food. I’ve only taken about five bites of my burger and more than half of it is still left. “But I—”
“Get up.” Now it’s Kenzie’s minion, Bella. Well, one of her minions. She’s got several behind her—a mini army. “You’re taking up a whole table for yourself. That’s so selfish, Addie.”
“But, um…” I glance over at the empty table. “You can just sit in the empty seats.”
“Yes, but we have private stuff to discuss.” Kenzie drops her tray on the table, pushing mine out of the way. “So you need to move.”
I open my mouth although I’m not entirely sure what to say. But before I can think of anything, Kenzie grabs my tray from the table while Bella snatches my textbook. I stare at them in shock.
“Hey!” I cry.
“Where do you want to sit?” Kenzie asks me. She picked up my tray so roughly that my chocolate milk toppled over and is now spilling all over the tray, soaking the napkins with brown liquid. “Decide or else we’ll just dump your stuff in the garbage.”
My heart is pounding. I should stand up to her somehow, but how can I? What am I supposed to do? Fight her in the middle of the cafeteria? Insult her? I can’t think of any insult I could pay Kenzie Montgomery that would be true. She’s literally perfect.
“Hey.” A voice from the back of Kenzie’s posse is achingly familiar. Hudson Jankowski pushes his way to the front of the group. “What’s going on?”
Kenzie makes a face. “Addie is taking up this entire table, and she won’t move.”
Hudson looks down at the table, and his pale blue eyes skim over my face. It’s like he doesn’t even recognize me anymore, but I feel a glimmer of hope when he says, “Why does she need to move?”
Kenzie snorts. “Do you want to sit with her?”
I remain at the table, waiting for Hudson to stick up for me. Addie is my best friend, and I would be happy to sit next to her. She was my only friend when nobody else would go near me. But instead, he says, “Come on, Kenzie. There’s another table right over there.”
“This one is right near the snack machines,” Kenzie whines. “And why should we have to move? She’s here all by herself.”
I can’t listen to this argument anymore. Hudson may be sticking up for me a little bit, but not the way I want him to. He’s decided we’re not friends anymore, and that hurts more than anything.
So I get up from the table and snatch my math book out of Bella’s hands. “Fine,” I say. “Take the table.”
Kenzie lifts an eyebrow. “Don’t you want your tray?”
I want to tell her that I’ve lost my appetite, but I’m pretty sure if I say anything, I’m going to start crying. And we all know that’s the worst thing you can do. So I march out of the cafeteria with my head held high. I almost think that I maybe hear Hudson calling out my name, but I must be hallucinating because I doubt he would do that.
