"Yes, I realize that I'll die as well." All the expression drained from her face, and her voice became deadpan. "But unlike yours, my death will be quick and painless."
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Well, fudge you too! I don't care if you die either!" I didn't mean that, but seeing her slack-jawed face, I wanted her to be as rattled as I was.
"You will," I heard someone whisper in Spanish.
I looked over my shoulder and saw nothing. When I looked back I saw Jiao walking away.
"Do not sing that song, or I will take it back from you."
I whirled around. "WHO ARE YOU?!"
Again, no one was there... Except everyone at every lunch table who was looking at me like I was crazy.
"I'm Tracie," said the girl directly in front of me with a giggle. "We're in the same history class. Why don't you know who I am?"
"I wasn't talking to you."
"Then who WERE you talking to? Your imaginary friend?"
The whole table erupted in laughter. I had no comeback for that.
Ugh, why did I have to piss Jiao off? If I hadn't, maybe she'd have been mor than happy to defend me. God knows she had a comeback for every remark.
Or maybe she wouldn't have defended me. As I'd stated earlier, we weren't friends.
Intending to go apologize, I scanned the lunchroom for her to find that she was gone. "Anyone seen Jiao?" I asked the people at the lunch table.
Tracie smirked. "So you DO have an imaginary friend!"
"No I don't! You guys know Jiao!"
She raised an eyebrow. "Jiao? Is that even a name?"
"Oh yeah, I forgot. Her full name is Jiaohua."
"Did you make that up? It doesn't sound Spanish."
"No! She's a real person and she goes to our school! She played guitar in Battle of the Bands and she's famous among the freshmen! Shaggy hair with red streaks in it, wears black lipstick, kinda hard to tell what race she is but she's Chinese? SCHOOL RECORD FOR GETTING SUSPENDED?!"
She laughed. "Where do you come up with this stuff?"
"Hey, don't laugh at her. I think it's cool that she has an imagination," said a shrimpy boy in a polo shirt and khakis.
I knew that kid. He was a freshman, and the only one in my study hall who Mr. Cafaro never yelled at for talking or phone use.
And his name was Richard Yaghlaqar.
