My classes this morning have been intimidating at best and painful at worst. However, I know that being a new student at lunch will be worse than anything I’ve experienced so far today. I will have to find the cafeteria. I will probably be late to the cafeteria. I will have to find someone to sit with. I will probably be told ‘no.’ As I wander the halls, I follow my nose, ignoring the scent of B.O. mixed with cologne and following the vague whiff of pizza, hoping that the smell will lead me to the cafeteria.
“Hey, I apologize if this is weird.” I hear a voice speak just as a boy appears in the corner of my eye. I assume he is talking to someone walking on the other side of him, and in an effort to not seem like a strange eavesdropper, I do not react to his words. But the boy keeps walking next to me, his pace perfectly matching mine. “Hello?” He asks, and leans his face in front of me, a complicated task for someone who is walking down a crowded hallway.
“Yes?” I ask, confused, realizing he is actually talking to me.
“Are you Cara? Cara Finch?”
I stop, and he does too; I turn and look at him, and he does the same.
“Yeah.”
“You showed up in my Spanish class this morning, but I didn’t realize it was you. Later I overheard some people saying Connor’s sister was back at school, and then I made the connection. Hey.”
“Wait.” I say, even though he hasn’t moved. I suddenly remember his name. “Nathan?”
“It really is you. Wow.”
“Uh, hey,” I say, not capable of thinking of anything more intelligent at the moment.
I stare at him.
“Oh, so you do remember me?” He asks, smirking a little.
“How could I not? You threw me in my pool when I was twelve.” I say, remembering one of the memories I have from the past three years. “But you were a scrawny thirteen year-old, so my leg hit the side and had to get stitches.” There is a faint scar on my calf that sometimes reminds me of that sunny afternoon.
“Sorry.” His casually apologetic shrug isn’t very convincing. “I’m surprised you recognized me today, in that case; I’m not so scrawny anymore am I?” He asks with a cocky grin on his face. I shake my head in pretend dismay. At the same time, I wonder how I didn’t notices his 6’4 muscular frame and jet black hair in my Spanish class this morning.
“Can I walk you to your next class? Or do you already know where you’re going?”
“I have lunch and I have no clue where to go.”
“I’m headed to lunch too.” He nods his head towards another hallway. “Follow me; don’t want you to be late to lunch on your first day.”
I follow along beside him, not saying anything, as he leads the way through numerous identical hallways. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to wander through this building without getting lost.
“So. I’ve heard the gossip, but I want to hear it from you. Why are you back in school?”
I look at him to gauge his interest and to determine if he’s being sarcastic. It’s hard to tell with Nathan, sometimes. Or, at least, it was back when I actually knew him. He seems serious, so I feel pulled to give him a snippet of the truth, but then I think about the gossip he just mentioned, and I don’t want him spreading more of it – even if it’s true. So I stick with something short and sweet: “It’s a long story.”
I know I most likely cannot handle adding anything else to my already overwhelming day, but I am still tempted to ask about what all he has heard about me. I am also genuinely surprised that people are talking about me, of all people.
Nathan and I soon arrive at the doors of the cafeteria, and I pause to catch my breath. My breathing is short, not because of the walk, but because of the jitters in my stomach. Nathan takes a moment to look at me as I try to regain my composure. I think he notices that I don’t quite have it all together, because he takes a step back from the door. “Hey, if you want, you can come and sit with me and some of my friends.”
I sigh in relief; I haven’t spoken to Nathan in at least the six months, but I welcome an invitation to any table more than I would welcome an invitation to the dine with the Queen of England.
“That is, if you don’t already have a posse waiting for you.”
This ridiculous comment makes me smile a little. “No, no posse today,” I assure him. I gladly follow behind him as we make our way into the room full of hungry teenagers. The room is filled with circular tables surrounded by chairs; Nathan leads me to a table in the middle of the far section of the room. 6 out of the 8 chairs are already occupied.
“Guys, this is Cara.”
“Connor’s sister?” One of the girls at the table asks. She peers at me from behind her black rimmed glasses, her gaze lasting a bit too long for my comfort.
“Yes, Connor’s sister.” Nathan nods. “Cara, this is Elsa, Carson, Dylan, Paige, Jonathon, and Kelsey.”
I forget most of the names immediately, but I sit down net to Elsa. Nathan pulls out the chair next to me, sits down, pulls out a paper bag full of food, and begins to eat. Everyone else resumes consuming their lunch as well; they also go back to their conversations and I am allowed to observe silently, occasionally answering a question if asked.
This is how I survive lunch on my first day of school.
YOU ARE READING
Once Again
Teen FictionI have always been defined in terms of my twin sister. For thirteen years, I was known as Allison’s lookalike. For the past three years, I have been the twin that survived. I am forever the twin that did not die. ---- When she was 13 years old, Cara...
