All the Wrong Reasons

Palavers on a Picnic Table

Chapter 7:

“A bit cold to be eating outside, isn’t it?”

I looked up, book in one hand, sandwich in the other, staring at the speaker. What was he doing here? Not many people came to this part of the school, which was precisely why I had chosen it.

“I mean, picnics are nice, I won’t deny it, but in February?”

I continued to gap at this person, a young man of about my age, standing in front me, hands in pockets, acting as if this wasn’t really, really weird. Maybe it was the shock of finding out someone had discovered my secret spot, but I couldn’t seem to rally my thoughts and come up with a reply.

“Let me introduce myself” he said “Nathan. Nathan Veilan. May I sit down?”

I nodded, feeling shell-shocked.

“Do you have a name, or should I just call you silent girl on at a picnic table?”

“Annabeth” my brain finally kicked into gear.

“That’s a pretty name” he remarked, hopping up onto the table, sliding up so he was sitting right next to me. 

“It’s a stupid name” I muttered.

“So why are you eating outside in the cold?”

“You’re new here, right?” Nathan nodded.

“How did you know?”

“It’s not that big a school” I answered. In fact, if he hadn’t been new, he would have known why I didn’t want to eat in the cafeteria. It had been two weeks since the news about Connor and me had broken out, and the name had slacked off a bit, even if Kathy still made a point of calling me a bitch in a very loud voice whenever she saw me. And other things as well. Kathy, along with her friends, also made a point of jostling me in the corridor, and knocking my books over as often as possible. Childish stuff, but I had grown weary of it. However, this was a small school, and there wasn’t that much worthy gossip. This was probably the most exciting things to happen ever since Jonathan Carafelli, a student from our school had been killed during a mugging, three years ago. I was tired of being stared out, and I was tired of people shushing each other when I arrived. I could hardly avoid going to class, but I didn’t have to put up this crap at lunch.

My secret spot was behind the science building. It was a big, old L-shaped building, full of long, draughty corridors that smell of damp. It was at the back of the school compound, a few metres from the far wall. For some reason, the space between the building and the fence had been turned into a picnic area. There were a few rickety picnic tables, most of them dirty and half rotted. One of them, nestled in the corner of the science hall and protected from the elements by the over-hang of the roof, had survived and I had started coming out here to eat lunch. Sure, it was cold and damp, but at least it was quiet, and nobody called me names.

“What are you doing out here?” I asked.

“Exploring” he said casually, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “I’m new here. I thought I would be a good idea to get to know the lay of the land. You never know, I might end up being the school scapegoat. I need to know the good places to hide.”

I looked Nathan up and down. He would right at home with all the popular kids. Sun-bleached hair, white shirt with the sleeves rolled-up, trendily ripped jeans, leather jacket casually slung over one shoulder. All he needed was a pair of designer sunglasses. Yeah, he would be welcomed into the popular club with no problems whatsoever.