Clever Girl

Chapter 4 : a table full of vultures

The last time I was in the cafeteria of the school was about a year ago. I had stopped by to buy an apple, to snack on until I got home for lunch. It's just as noisy and chaotic as it was then. I can barely hear myself think over the loud voices of the students, bumped tables, scratching chairs, random music blaring from random corners like static, and the distict sound of a teenage wasteland personified.

As I walk past a table of seniors, a couple of them look at me. One in particular, a girl named Stella, nods towards me. "Is that her?"

"Yeah, I think so," another student named Adam replied.

I believe this table is composed of the self-proclaimed future leaders of the country. They pride themselves in their grades and accomplishments. They're all almost as bad as Jay, though none of them are as popular. Knowing all their names is almost a curse, really, because I doubt any of them know a single thing about me.

"Hey, you! Come here," Stella says to me. She's obviously their leader. Wearing a navy-blue suit jacket, with a giant flower broach, a pink blouse and a frilly skirt, she stands out. Especially her extra-shiny black hair and piercing blue eyes. She looks the part.

This is the first time any of them have ever spoken to me, or even looked in my direction. After debating the situation for a full minute, I step forward and wait.

"You're Veronica, right? The girl Jay's tutoring?"

"Yeah?"

"I have a question, and please try to be honest with your answer. Why are you purposely trying to sink this school?" her tone is soft, but behind the forced saccharine voice is distinct nastiness.

The rest of the table stares at me, maybe waiting for me to cry. "I'm not doing anything purposely."

"So you're just naturally stupid?" Stella asks, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"W-what?" I reply, barely. And my father wonders why I don't have friends.

"Can't even form a proper sentence. How are you still in school? Actually, that might be a good idea. Why don't you drop out and save the rest of us all this gross humiliation?"

"Right, I think that's my cue. I'm walking away now." I probably sound weak, rueful and afraid. If I was at home, and this was just another political debate with my father, I'd stand my ground for hours. But now, as I cautiously back away from a table full of vultures, I'm reminded of how I've forced myself into a box for so long. I can't even stay and fight in a crowd like this. I don't know how to.

Though in the feeble wake of my social destruction, or a small example of it, I know I can still put Jay in his place. After all, if he hadn't shared our tutoring sessions with the world, that scene in the cafeteria wouldn't have happened.

It doesn't take more than two seconds for me to spot him in the library. He's seated at the usual table, right in the middle of everything. As if telling the world he's its center. I narrow my eyes as I approach him. "You! Mind telling me why you're broadcasting these sessions to all your friends?"

He doesn't look up at me. "I didn't realize it was a secret."

"It... it wasn't. But still. Now they're harassing me. It's not what I signed up for."

"I don't give a shit. What I signed up for is all I'm concerned about. Now sit down before you embarrass yourself further."

"No."

He glares up at me with blue eyes that seem to shoot out iced daggers. "No? Did you forget that I'm here to help you dig yourself out of the mess you've made for yourself?"

"Help me? Bullshit. You're only here to get a gold star from Cranston. You self-serving asshole."

I don't know what's worse; Jay throwing insults at me, or silently staring at me with blazing contempt. It's in the silence that the blue of his eyes burn into mine. I wait for him to say more, to laugh at me, or yell in protest. Instead he just keeps on glaring.

"What, are you just going to sit there? Mr. Golden Boy of Apollo has nothing else to say?"

When he stands up, I take a step back out of fear that he might actually lash out. I watch as he gathers up his books and calmly places them in his backpack. When he's finished, he approaches me - those eyes never wavering from my own.

"You're on your own, princess."

"Best news I've heard all day."

As he walks away, I know beyond any doubt that Cranston will not approve of this. Jay will be promised greater rewards for tutoring me, and tomorrow we'll be back here again. Reluctant. Hating each other even more than before.