Going On

Theo

“We should meet in another life, we should meet in air, me and you.” 
― Sylvia Plath

I awkwardly picked at the food sitting in front of me.

Enchiladas, covered in red sauce, green onions, cheese, and sour cream.

Just looking at it made my stomach feel heavy. I couldn’t handle spicy food, let alone spicy and greasy food. They might as well have shoved two fingers down my throat until I puked all over their table.

Noelle sat next to me, shyly picking at her food. She ate everything one at a time. I wondered if that was connected to her weird germ thing.

“So,” her mother said, smiling a bit too broadly, “you met Noelle in the suicide club?”

“Jesus, mom, that makes us sound like we’re going to commit group suicide or something.” Noelle smirked as she said it, but then grew red and stared at the table while her mother shot daggers at her.

I laughed bitterly and cut a piece of enchilada with my fork. The tortilla broke and all of the meat and onion spilled out onto a mess on the plate, and I stared at it angrily.

Damn you. I can’t even cut a fucking enchilada correctly. Fuck. You. Enchilada. Fuck you.

“Yeah, we met in the suicide club. I sat across from her.”

Her mom raised her eyebrows at me.

“Sat? Where do you sit now?” She grinned, and Noelle grew red.

I shrugged.

“I sit next to her now.”

Her mom smiled, satisfied. Her father rolled his eyes and picked at his food, looking as though he was hoping I would spontaneously combust and cover the room with my blood.

I wondered if Noelle wanted to spontaneously combust while I shoved my fork down on the enchilada to cut it into sizeable chunks. I looked around for a knife, and realized no one had one. I tried to make due with the fork, but I dropped it and made a loud clatter. Everyone looked up at me and I grew red.

“Do you... Uh... Do you have a knife?” I asked. I figured why they didn’t have them at the table, and I didn’t want to bring it up, but I didn’t want to send explosions of meat all over the table. Her parents didn’t like me as it was.

Noelle’s face grew red and she stared at her plate as though she were trying to will herself to disappear.

“They’re um... They’re on top of the cabinets...” Her mother stammered, getting up to go to the kitchen.

“Well I guess you’ll have to move it again so I won’t kill myself, won’t you?!?” Noelle yelled, and stormed out of the kitchen with tears in her eyes.

I sat at the table, glowing red.

“You can um... You can forget the knife,” I said.