Tell Me Lies

Those Pretty Excuses

SIX

Come over here and sit next to me

~

At lunch, we sat like nothing was going on. We smiled and laughed at people, we talked about people and parties.

Pure bullshit.

In the table, usually sat Colin, Francis, Brie facing Noe and I. There was rarely anyone else to add. But this time, it was different. Noe and Brie were sitting in another table.

"So is it true?" Sven asked curiously. "Are you guys over?"

I glanced back at Sven, who just like the other guys at the table were curious to know. I proceeded to just sighed out and scratch the top of my eyebrow's bone with my index finger.

"Yeah."

I didn't need to fake the bitterness in my tone. Colin and Francis were the only ones who looked much concerned by my sentence. It was no surprise, they were the only ones that knew what exactly was going on.

"Man, shit, what happened?"

"Did you see Mr. Polaosky hitting on Lana again?" Cisco said clearly trying to diverse the conversation.

"What?"

"Yeah, that man is creepy—"

The sudden easiness we had achieved was abruptly lost, the cafeteria had gone dead silent and all eyes were directed at its entrance. Everyone was ears dropping to the conversation:

"Why did you have to be such a bitch?"

My eyes widen when I saw Camila. I was about to put a voice to the face that tormented me every night since that damn day.

"The only one who should get judge is you for using handicapped students to skip class! So, no, I'm not a bitch for wheeling myself to algebra class. But, yes, you're a jackass for complaining and blaming me for being punished!"

Camila was fuming steam, Joy Wallace stood there completely humiliated as she told him off. I was attentive, I sensed Joy pushing defensive mode. He grabbed a hold of Camila's coke and threw it at her face. Camila gasped, I immediately stood up and raised to the scene. I grabbed a hold of Joy's shirt collar. I was aware of the presence of my friends behind me, ready to pull me away from Joy, scared all my anger would manifest into him.

"What the fuck is your problem, man?" I brought him real close to my face. Joy stayed silent knowing fully it was not convenient to be aggressive. I pushed him away in one good swing. He seemed to lose his footing for a second. I looked back at Camila, but she wasn't there anymore.

I ran out of the cafeteria to find her. I couldn't find her. She was probably on the toilets, I searched for the closets one to the cafeteria. Some girls passed by and I asked them if they could check for Camila Parker. She was indeed inside. I waited outside.

Camila came out surprised. Which was natural, I don't think we ever talked before.

"Hi?"

"Hey," I say. "Um, Camila, I'm sorry about Joy."

"You came all the way to apologize for something you didn't do?" She paused with a frowned and then she wheeled herself away. She didn't sound confused. It was more like she was pointing out the lack of logic of my actions. I stayed silent. I didn't seem like the right moment to explain any further without causing suspicion. Maybe, I had been too forward.

"Stop following me!" She hissed, "I don't want your pity, or anyone's. Okay? The message will travel the fastest with you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She makes a face that looks like she regrets what she said. "Oh please, everyone in here practically adores you."

"Oh, so you adore me?" I see a tint of blush in her cheeks. "You did say 'everyone'."

"I wished you put as much effort in twisting my words as you did in your literature essays. It would have saved me the stains of food in them."

I frowned, I don't recall ever asking for her assignments. But I do recall one time when stupid Sven poured mustard in someone's homework. I recall apologizing, but not the face. "It was one time and I printed again for you. It was as good as new and ready for third period." I'm the perfect liar. "Anyway," I say. "Where's your locker?"

"What?"

"You're gonna need a less shitty 'friendly aid'. Ain't I right?" I say, before she can say a word I interrupt her. "You have less than three minutes to get to class, let me help you." For a split second, I hesitate. I take the handles of the wheelchair.  They feel hot in my hands, almost like they were burning. I feel my own body reacting, I feel sweaty. I ask her to point out her locker, she does as said. My feet feel attached to the floor, like if they were melting away and as if I was pushing a huge rock forward. I wondered if people could see it in my face too as I felt it myself in my body.

"It's here, 2345."

"Is that your code too?" I ask, "They gave you the highest one? Those assholes." I shook my head as I take the lock between my fingers.

"How did you know it was my code?"

"It's probably your iPhone's password too. What's your next class?" I say as I unlock it.

"Again, Sherlock, use that brain of yours for your school's work, please." She says a bit fluster. "It's algebra. It's my last class."

"And you should take your jokes to SNL. You'll probably won't make them any funnier." I handle her books. "Can I have your schedule? I need to know what time you finish and what time I need to be here tomorrow."

"What?" She barely makes a sound out of her mouth this time. "I take courses really early so I can head straight to–. Other stuff..."

"What a coincidence," I say as I maintain the poker face. "I take classes very early too. It's the perfect match." She tries to stand up to reach for her locker. "Where is it?"

"It's folded somewhere inside."

"Is that a bag of opened Doritos I see?" I tease her.

"What? That's not mine."

"Yeah, it's right here." I say as I locate and grab her schedule. I showed to her and she rolls her eyes, I take my phone out and take a photo of it. "Ready." I put it back in pockets. "Now, let's head to room 211."

"Thank you," She says. Or least, I think she said. The bell rings, people come out, they stare at us. My grip around the handles tightens, it feel like they are about to crips. I feel like I'm walking through a steep unpaved road. I don't know how I'm going to keep this up. But, then, I see her. I see Noelle and I think this is all worth for her.

"It's my pleasure."