Suffocating

Lunch

I waited in line to pay for my food. Handing the lunch card to the lunch lady, she looked up at me. "You only have two dollars left in your account! Make sure you fill it up soon!" Nodding, I couldn't help but wonder about how long it would take to fill up my card. I took it back into my hand and prepared myself for one of the biggest challenges I have to go through in a day.

Where do I sit?

It's not like I had friends that saved me a seat everyday, so I usually ended up having to sit by the trash. But, I couldn't stand up here by the desk for too long or else the kids would know I didn't have a group. I'm sure they already do, but I just didn't want to confirm it.

There were tables for the jocks, cheerleaders, druggies, populars, geeks, suicidal obsessed, preppy, band, etc. I know I could be sitting with the suicidal obsessed, but they don't like me either. I don't blame them. I don't even like me.

I was alone.

Then a girl sitting, motioned for me to sit at her lonesome table. I looked all around me and looked back at her. I mouthed "Me?" and she smiled and patted the chair next to her.

"Thanks for sitting with me. I'm Amanda by the way." She flashed a smile at me and shook my hand, and as if happiness were contagious, I smiled back. Amanda was a pretty girl. She was Asian, her mid-back hair obiously dyed dark red. I had seen her in the hallways, but like everyone else, she hadn't noticed me. "I'm Annabelle, but you can call me Anna."

I couldn't stop twitching my fingers. I used to be pretty social, until I was told that I was awkward, and I guess I just kind of slowly contracted social anxiety.

"So how do you like it here? Did you just move here?" Amanda questioned.

I gritted my teeth. I knew I was invisible and school was just starting up, but really? I tried to sound as pleasant as I could when I responded, "Um, no, actually. I've at this school since 6th grade."

Her smile faltered as she began her rant. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that- well, I just moved here. I know; I'm one of those weird move-to-a-new-school-in-the-middle-of-the-year kids. You just seemed a little nervous, and I just assumed- uh, I think I'm just going to go sit somewhere else where I can't bother-"

Was she going to leave? Did I really scare her off that quickly?

"No- no it's fine. Please, sit down." I spoke up, and she smiled in reply and sat back down.

"This food is disgusting." I mentioned as I observed something on my tray that looked a little like green chili. "That, my friend, is why I bring my own." She handed me her bag of Doritos chips. My mouth was already watering with Doritos-filled fantasies.

She began unwrapping her BLT sand-which as she began her conversation with me. "So, what's your story?" I coughed while I was drinking, surprised by such a deep question (I had only met her 5 minutes ago!), therefore spitting my Pepsi all across the table. There was complete silence. Then, when I thought she was going to make fun of me, Amanda started to burst out laughing. And, after a while; I laughed too. I think I heard her snort once.

After the laughter calmed down, she asked again. "But really- what's your story?" I didn't know what she meant, so I asked. "Everyone has a story; something to write in their book someday. Whether it's about a past lover, a parent, a friend, an event, or anything else that has affected your life and made you the person you are today. Maybe your dog died, your cat ran away, or you moved- it all counts. And I want to hear everything." She seemed truly interested. But I told her, "I don't have one, I guess."

Amanda slammed her fist down on the table, scaring me a little. "I call bullshit!" She said whole-heartily. I tried to shush her up. "Shut up! A teacher could hear you!" She rolled her eyes. "Come on! You have to have something special about yourself! Everyone has one, no matter how boring they are."

I thought for a second, trying to recall the main events in my life. I couldn't think of anything. "Nope, nothing. Guess I'm just not special enough to have a story." There was a small twinkle in Amanda's eyes as she spoke with authority.

"Then, Annabelle, we will have to make you one."