I'm Not Hungry

Nine

Ever heard the saying, "what goes around, comes around"? No?

It means that karma is a freaking bitch.

Over the course of the past few days, I've been building cribs, feeding babies, changing diapers and changing some more. Babies sure do poop a lot.

When my father was still alive he always told me that I was a psychotic child. My karma for being a psycho is not being able to get more than three hours of sleep a night. Chevy, then Caleb, then Chevy again. All. Night. Long.

I've found a babysitter for school hours, and he seems nice enough. It's now Monday and I'm on my way to the sitter's house. As I'm turning on to the road a small dog jumps in front of my truck. Not wanting to kill the innocent creature, I slam on my brakes. The little pup just continues on it's way like nothing even happened. Well then.

After finally getting to the shabby, grey house, I drop off Chevy and Caleb. This time, I look for any other wandering creatures. Wouldn't want to have to wield yet another plate on. By the time I make it to school, I'm definitely late. I quickly lock my rusty truck and race into the plain, brick school. What I see is nothing short of shocking.

"Ian? Wh-what? Wh-who-I-I-huh?" I stumble on my words. I mean, who the hell wouldn't after figuring out that one of their childhood best friend makes out with guys in his spare time?

"Belle! This isn't-"

"What it looks like? So I didn't just see you attached to some random dude's-oh damn! You're that guy that sits next to me in pre-calc, aren't you?" I realize. The boy, Charlie, nods meekly. Wow. That's...shocking, to say the least.

"So you're..." I trail off, not knowing if either of them would take offense to the term.

My silent question was soon answered by Ian smiling proudly and saying, "Gay? Yes. This is my boyfriend, Charlie, and we've been dating for about three months now." The courage and certainty with which he says this has me in complete awe. He's not ashamed and he shouldn't be.

"How did your mother react?" I ask. Jolie is a very strict Christian and, as far as I know, wouldn't allow this in her home.

Ian looks down, mildly distressed. "She doesn't know. She'd hate me." Even though I'm smiling and happy for him, a small part of me is silently crying. I like this boy.

I walk over to him and put a tentative hand on his bicep. "Have your dad talk to her beforehand?" I suggest. He shakes his head dismissively.

"It wouldn't make a difference. She'll have my head either way." He says in all seriousness. I remove my hand and Ian shrugs. "I'll figure it out. In the meantime, you need to get to class."

I glance at the boring clock on the wall. I've almost missed the whole period. "Oh, shoot! I'll see you two at lunch." I wave at the pair over my shoulder, sprinting down the halls and to class. It's ten minutes later, when I'm trying to remember where my class is, that I realize that I have a free period. Of course I do.

I keel over with my hands on my knees, trying desperately to catch my breath. I'm an idiot. Just then, the shrill bell rings, freeing everyone from their first period classes.

Oh, yay. Magic sleeping class with Mr. Cole. So fun.

I grudgingly start walking to my second period class. Once there, I sit in a seat towards the back rather than in the front where the teacher can easily see me.

After fifteen minutes of Mr. Cole's annoying voice droning on and on, a familiar pink haired freak bursts into the room.

"Sorry I'm late. I was caught up enjoying my last few minutes of not being here." Opal starts walking toward her seat, presumably in the back. Suddenly, she stops. "Oh, and Mr. Cole, sir? Would you ever punish me for something I didn't do?"

"Of course I would not." Mr. Cole says, sounding suspiciously like a computer.

"I didn't show up on time and I didn't do my homework."

"Just sit down Opal."

"Yes sir." Opal says mockingly. She smirks and sits in a seat just behind a brown haired jock. The teacher rolls his eyes and continues with his extremely boring lesson. Just as he's asking a poor girl to solve the equation on the board, a paper ball is thrown at my head. I toss a questioning look in the direction it came from and bend down to pick up the crumpled note.

Meet me under the bleachers on the soccer field at 4:00. Don't be late!

Who do I know in this class? There's only Opal and Jax, but Jax hates me and Opal would just come up to me and talk whether I want her to or not. I shrug. I guess I'll find out, I think.

The note bugs me all day. Like in lunch, I actually ate. I don't figure this out until later when my stomach feels like it's hanging over the waistband of my skinny jeans, but still. It's been three days.

As the final bell of the day rings, I can't be more grateful. It's already half past three, so I decide to just wait on the field until the mystery person arrives. I step on the dew ridden grass and exhale a long, tired breath. I absolutely love soccer, though. Then, because I'm a lucky bastard like that, I spot a fully inflated ball a little behind the goal. So, for the next half hour, I practice.

As I'm in the middle of an around-the-world, a voice from the sidelines says, "No need to be a show-off." I immediately stop playing. What. The. Hell?

I turn around to confirm my suspicions. Jax.

"What do you want?" I ask snottily, my nose scrunched in immense hatred.

Jax raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. "I needed to talk to you."

Oh, shit.