"Memorable"

Part Two

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The next day, Graciela and Salem met up in the hallway on their way to the cafeteria. Salem wore a dark colored flannel with its sleeves rolled up, and he was adjusting a maroon beanie in place atop his head; after all, the lunch supervisors didn't give two shits about the dress code. He brushed his hair back behind his shoulders, for it was extra full fluffing out beneath the beanie.

Graciela wore short shorts that day, black again; tucked into them was a thin, black tank top, and over it fell a loose, translucent, baby blue tee tied in a small knot above her covered stomach. Her hair was tied in two low pigtails that day, the ends of her hair wavy from the previous day's braid.

As the two of them joined one another, Graciela immediately drummed up conversation.

"You didn't tell me prom was next week!" She began.

"Well, yeah, because it's senior prom. For seniors," Salem reiterated. "And, I'm not going." Graciela rolled her two eyes.

"Well, I want to go, Salem," she told him.

"Why? It's a waste of time without a date. Or friends." Salem put his hands in his pockets, looking forward. "Besides, you could only go with a senior date."

Graciela kept on looking at him as they walked down the hall. Eventually, Salem noticed, peering over and noting her expression. It was desperately implying something. "Oh no, no no no," he rid of the idea she was proposing.

"Please? I thought for my whole life I was going to miss out on all these school dances and shit, but this is the perfect opportunity for me to go to at least one of them! Come on, Salem!" She begged.

"Gracie, you haven't had dance after dance to tell you that they're a bunch of bullshit, and, hell, you might be lucky for that," Salem told her. "All they do is take absurd amounts of your money just to force you to dress up nice and dance to whatever shitty music is popular right now."

"I haven't had a single experience to be able to confirm that I'll feel the same as you about them," Graciela retorted.

"You haven't had a single experience to deny it, either," Salem said back as the two of them walked into the cafeteria. Graciela sighed. They soon arrived at their table, and set their backpacks down. They then proceeded to the lunch line.

"Well, if you're not gonna be my fake date, then you're gonna have to find me a real one. Time's ticking," Graciela nudged, elbowing him as they both picked up their lunch trays. Salem groaned

"God, fine, I'll go. But only because we're actually friends," he reluctantly agreed.

"Thank you, Salem," Graciela smiled.

"Yeah, yeah. Remind me to bring ticket money on Monday."

"Will do."

The two made their way through the lunch line together, picking out the foods they wanted. Graciela now had a seat at Salem's table, filled with a couple skater boys, a girlfriend of one of them, and a few of her friends. Luckily, there was one empty seat between them all.

When they sat down, Graciela remembered a few subjects of concern she wanted to bring up to Salem. She waited a few minutes, though, allowing them both to eat for a short while.

"Salem," Graciela soon said.

"Yeah?" He responded, taking a sip of milk afterwards.

"How come you haven't reached out to any of us lately, except for Oliver?" She asked. "Alix worries about you, you know."

"She does?" Salem turned to Graciela in question after setting his carton down.

Graciela was in disbelief. "You mean Oliver hasn't told you?"