Not Important

Rules

Lunch rolls by and I would normally be in the music room about now. But, if I want the money, I will have to sit at the table that I have always made sure that I was nowhere near. I haven't entered the cafeteria since the first day of high school. So now, as I enter the cafeteria, I find that every eye soon lands on me. People start to murmur, whisper, or glare at me. I ignore them, not bothered what they think about me, or what rumours they are talking about. I look for the table, not remembering where the populars usually sit.

"Danielle! Over here!", Niamh calls out, and more people start to whisper. I walk over to them, and Kerry tells me to sit down next to her. Sitting down, I feel even more eyes on me. I don't like this at all. But what can I do? If I don't go through with this, I won't ever get out of that house.
"Everyone, this is Danielle. Danielle, this is everyone", Niamh says, not bothering with saying anyone else's names. "My name isn't Danielle", I try to tell them, but they aren't listening.

Kerry rolls her eyes at Niamh's introduction.
"This is Danielle. Danielle, this is Josh, Mark, Luke, Luis....", she continues, and all of those names go through one ear and out the other. She finishes the long line of people's names. I look up to see all of their faces focused on mine. Most of them don't look like they support the idea of me being here today, let alone for the next five months. I stop at a guy's face opposite me and two down to my left. His face looks familiar. There's something about it. Something about him that looks strange, like I've seen him before. I'm being daft. I have probably seen him before, around school. I let it go, even though something is bugging me still.

"Let's go through the rules now. If you want this job, you will have to sit with us every day at lunch. And...", she begins to say. I listen as she lists the rules. Basically, the rules are:

*don't speak unless spoken to
*keep watch
*don't majorly hurt anyone
*keep distance

Blah blah blah.

At the end, she asks me for my phone so she can swap numbers with me.
"I don't have a phone", I tell her, and everyone gasps in shock.
"What?", Kerry says, hand to heart.
"I. Don't. Have. A. Phone", I say, really slowly, in case she didn't hear me from all of the giggling and empty space in her head.
"You're going to have to buy one", Kerry tells me.
"Right", I reply, not wanting to tell them anything about me.
"Your job begins right after school", Kerry says, confusing me.
"What do you mean?", I ask her.
"I mean that you need to meet us outside by our cars. We are all heading to the Lucy's", Kerry says, naming a popular café.

"I can't", I tell her, remembering that it's thursday today.
"And why not?", she demands, looking royally pissed already.
"Because I have work", I tell her.
"You work? You have got to be joking!", she says, laughing at me. When she realises I'm not kidding, she stops. And so does everyone else.
"Where do you work?", she asks me.
"At Connie's Diner", I tell her.
"Where's that?", she asks.

"On Freshwater street", I tell her, and her eyes widen.
"You mean the place where there was a murder two weeks ago?", she asks me. "Well, a murder and a suicide, but yeah", I explain.
Everyone on the table stares at me as if I'm mental for working on Freshwater street. I carry on eating my chicken and bacon sandwich that I made this morning.
"Okay. Well, change of plans. We will be going to eat there", Kerry announces for everyone to hear.
Some start to argue, but quickly agree. The guys start saying that it's no big deal and that they could kick anybody's ass if need be. I try to withhold the eye roll. They talk some more, but I ignore them, focusing on my sandwich.

Once lunch is over, I stand up and walk to my locker, finding my books for next lesson and taking them out.
"Hey", someone says from behind me. Assuming that that 'hey' wasn't meant for me, I keep doing what I'm doing. "Hello?", the voice asks, and I turn around to see that it's some guy that I was sat with at lunch.
"Oh. Hi", I say, before turning back to continue sorting through my locker.
"Danielle, right?", he asks me.