spoken word. (gxg)

twenty-one.

twenty one.

I was excited for 5th period because June would be there. She had come yesterday, even though I hadn't been able to make it, and told me she was going to come today. Even though it was just class, the idea of sitting close to June, seeing her, maybe even talking to her a little, left me giddy. The feeling numbed a little when I thought of my earlier conversation with the girl, the revelation about drugs, but I pushed it back.

I rushed to English and sat down, a full five minutes early, waiting. I stared at the doorway as the minutes passed, students cramming into the classroom, the flow dissipating as class started. Mrs. Lee droned on, and ten minutes into class I noticed that June still wasn't there.

I pulled my phone out under my desk, checking for any texts. Nothing. My throat tightened, and suddenly, sitting in a too-small desk in the dimly lighted classroom, I felt very silly. I was just a kid. A dumb, nosy kid who was bothersome and idiotic for feeling so excited and then wanting to cry when her crush didn't show up to class like she said she would. I willed myself to keep from feeling hurt, throwing my phone in my bag so I didn't do something like text June.

"It's not a big deal," I murmured to myself, finding it very hard to breathe through my constricted throat and stinging nose and eyes. The emotions I had been suppressing were pressing at the metal door I had slammed, leaking through. I raised a shaking hand, ears burning when my voice wavered as I asked to go to the bathroom.

It took me a full ten minutes to compose myself enough to go back to class. Triumphantly, I noted that I hadn't shed a single tear.

Every ounce of willpower I had was exercised as I walked out of the building after school ended instead of into Mrs. Lee's classroom. Abby had agreed to drop me off at the cafe, and when I got into the car she was practically vibrating with enthusiasm. Of course she was-- she loved gossip.

"So," she started, like I always did. It wasn't a surprise, I probably picked it up from hanging around her too much. I sighed.

"What?"

"Who are you meeting?" She probed.

"A guy," I said, and she gasped. "I'm a lesbian, Abby, get your mind out of the gutter."

"Right, right," she waved me off, "it's out; continue."

"I dunno, we're just talking."

"What for?" I scrambled. Should I tell her? I wanted to, but a gut feeling told me to keep it as down-low as possible.

"A school project," I let her know.

"Oh," he voice dropped, bored immediately. I suddenly felt very appreciative of my best friend's annoying habit of ignoring anything that wasn't interesting to her. Besides, she listened when it counted. It was why we had become friends in the first place. I was in a low place— newly homeless with no friends, and she talked to me when no one else did. Listened when no one else would. I owed her more than I could express for that.

She stopped in front of the shop, turning toward me.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come in with you?" She asked.

"Yeah, thanks," I smiled, opening the passenger side door to step around the vehicle. She waved from the driver's window.

"I love you!" She shouted, inappropriately loud. I formed a heart with my hands, grinning at her.

A bell dinged as I stepped into the small cafe. I had been expecting deserted tables, a line long with take-out coffee orders, a relaxing vibe, but was confronted with almost the opposite. It seemed like every table was filled, from the shined tables in the front to the mismatched rattling chairs next to the covered piano in the dimly-lighted back. I spotted Tyler's dark blond mop almost immediately. He was with a co-worker.