Misfits

Isaac

We are all sitting around the kitchen table for dinner: Mom, Dad and me. We're having meatloaf, which is disgusting to my ten-year-old palate. Mom is finishing up her story for the day, and I have already told them what happened in school. This leaves dad, who's always the most boring of our tiny group of three. He's a pastor, so he doesn't work every day. He spends a lot of time at the grocery store, I think. Mamma concludes her story, taking a sip of wine and gesturing at dad. His face looks like he's been waiting to spew out some horrible tale all night. "I saw the most repulsive thing at the grocery store today. Two men- holding hands. I even witnessed them kiss in the bread aisle, just out of the blue, not even caring about how others might feel about it. It was so wrong! I tell you Shannon, homosexuals are the absolute scum of the earth." I take a bite of meatloaf as I think about what Dad just said. I think my dinner is disgusting; my dad thinks gays are disgusting. How is that even on the same spectrum? How can both situations use the same word? I don't know how I feel about homosexuals, but I know it has nothing to do with meatloaf. No one deserves how I feel about meatloaf.

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"What about him?" Clare asks me. We are sitting together at lunch, and she keeps pointing out guys 'worthwhile' for me to 'go after'. I follow her discreet finger to a guy walking across the cafeteria. He sits down with two girls huddled next to each other and they jump as he plops onto the bench. He turns his face to speak to one and I see that it's Lucas, the friend of the guy that took my beating a few days ago.

"Not him. He's straight, and very obviously into the girl in the sweatshirt. Just watch how he looks at her." Clare and I both stare at them (not creepily of course) and you can see how Lucas angles himself at the girl, how his eyes are always focused on her, how he has this protective attitude towards her.

There's a slight animosity in their conversation, and Lucas looks borderline uncomfortable, but sparks are definitely flying. And, I can see Lucas imagining Darcy with clothes tighter than her baggy shirt and loose jeans. I can't tell if the jeans are loose though, or if she's just tiny. I mean, Lucas while sitting is already a good three or four inches taller than her, so I can only imagine how short she is when she stands.

I'm pretty tall, standing about 6'4 as a junior in high school, and the doctors say I have a few inches left to grow. My spiked hair adds another inch, and the sharp blondness of it makes me easy to spot in a crowd. I have nice eyes and good skin as well. I mean, if I were straight I would be perfect. At least according to some people. 

"That's Darcy Edwards," Clare says, breaking me from my stupor to look at her, "sweatshirt girl I mean, and Gabriella Lean next to Darcy. She goes by Ella, though. Has since middle school," Clare informs me. I'm not surprised that she knows who they are. Clare is wanting the spot of Student Council president, and makes it her duty to know everyone in the school. I make it my duty to have everybody in the school NOT know me.

"It doesn't matter who she is, he likes her," I tell her, watching as Lucas stands up with the two girls and separates. Darcy and Ella leave the room, but Lucas walks towards us. Clare and I bend our heads back down at the paper we have on the table so he doesn't notice our slight stalking. He passes the table and goes to Jordan and the deaf girl, Ryleigh.

Once it's safe to move, Clare and I pick our trash and head out of the cafeteria. I pass the kid that I talked to at the lockers this morning. The 'fatso' as they labeled him. I admit that he may be larger than other kids, but that doesn't give them any right to bully him. He's walking alone, head down and chin tucked to his chest. The good mood that I put him in this morning seems to have faded, and I can see why. He keeps getting shoved and tripped, and even though he catches himself, you can tell it hurts him. I'm appalled and intrigued at the same time.