Right Uppercut

Chapter 3

The next day was school. It went as usual, me tired more from waking up in the morning than staying up late. At least that’s what I’ve convinced myself of over the last 16 years. I handed in half finished homework and tried to pass the tests and quizzes thrown my way.

At least there was lunch, which meant food. My stomach growled in pre-calc as the thought of carbs entering my body took over my mind and off of the board.

I’ve been told that I act more like the boys and that’s probably because I’ve hung out with Mitchell, and any of his friends for so long that I started becoming one of… them.

The bell finally rang and the whole class jumped up in a unanimous decision that whatever sentence. Mr. Montgomery was trying to get out was not important enough to wait for.

I joined the wave of people exiting the room and followed the herd to the cafeteria bustling with hormonal teens. After going through the line, I carried my cheeseburger and fries over to my usual lunch table where Mitchell was waiting with Nick and Tyson.

“Hey, guys,” I greeted them, sliding my tray onto the table and sitting in one of the old blue chairs.

“’Sup,” Tyson nodded at me before returning to his conversation with Nick about fantasy football.

Mitchell introduced me to them in middle school when he tried playing baseball. That was before he realized that he and sports didn’t mesh well together. He clicked with the other boys, so we kind of became a group. I talked to them less often than Mitchell, but I was still close to them.

“So, how are you?” Mitchell turned to me.

I shrugged and took a bite of my burger. Through chews, I managed to get out, “Fine. You?”

“Same,” he replied, scrunching his eyebrows together. “Did you get any sleep last night? Them bags look like you just walked out of a grocery store.”

I almost laughed, but decided against it because he was right. I had a face for dark under eyes, partially because of my lack of sleep, but also because my skin tone is pretty light, so that doesn’t help to hide them much when I forget to put on makeup in my haste to get out of the house in the morning.

“I was up late,” I explain, dipping a soggy French fry into some ketchup. “Homework, you know the deal.”

Mitchell gave me a stern look, telling me that he knew I wasn’t being honest. “Ethan came over, didn’t her?”

And there it was. He broached the subject I hated talking about with him because all it led to was tension and awkwardness. Mitchell hated Ethan, and he didn’t even know the whole story. They’ve had a few short encounters, but it only led to dirty looks from Mitchell and “get out of here” glares from Ethan. And when Mitchell gets upset about something, you can’t stop his tirades.

I didn’t say anything because I knew my eyes revealed my answer. I heard Mitchell sigh and I really didn’t want to argue, so I said, “Just leave it, okay?”

His eyebrows rose. “No, I won’t just leave it. He’s an asshole and you let him take advantage of you. I don’t even know why you keep him around.”

That was true. Mitchell really didn’t know anything about Ethan or the reason he was still in my life. I’m a fairly average, intelligent girl who can tell douche bags from the truly nice guys. It wasn’t a secret to me that Ethan was bad news and I knew he was taking advantage of me, but, in my mind, I was repaying a favor. He helped me pay the bills and I kept him less grumpy.

“I know what I’m doing,” I tried to reassure Mitchell quietly. “I understand where you’re coming from, but let me deal with it.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s been a while and he’s still around. I don’t know if you’re really dealing with it.”