The Girl With The Dice Necklace

Chapter 3- Amber

“You haven’t been answering any of my texts!”

“Yeah I know, sorry. I lost my phone and don’t know what happened to it.” I told my friend Amber. She’s the texting type and when someone doesn’t answer her texts in an hour she flips. So when I hadn’t answered any of her texts in 3 days she was absolutely flipping.

“Lost your phone? How?!”  Amber asked me, imaging the horror of not having a phone to text on.

“I don’t know. I can’t find it anywhere. I retraced my steps and everything.” I said simply as if it wasn’t a big deal. It wasn’t a big deal, really. I don’t really have anyone I’d want to text anyway. No offense Amber.

“Well text me when you find it.” Amber instructed, standing up and going to get a refill on her soda. We were at the pizza place, Giovanni’s a block or two away from my house. It was a Thursday only a couple days after having played “tag” with those lovely sophomore friends of mine.

            My straw made that sad crinkling noise it makes when I reach the end of my coke. I took some coins out of my pocket and slide them around on the table, playing around, with my chin rested on my hand while I waited for my friend. I only had 50 cents lying on the table which wasn’t enough to buy me anymore soda. Amber trotted back in that Amber-like way, her long ginger curls bouncing against her new green shirt as she did so. Amber is that kind of a girl; goes to the mall twice every other weekend, buying shirts she doesn’t like two weeks later. She’s the friendly kind of girl that everyone gets along with. Friendly, stylish, and…pink, if you will; in other words, the opposite of me. She could get any guy (or girl for that matter) wrapped around her finger if she wanted. She could hang at any table at lunch and be welcomed. But for some reason she hangs out with me; and has done so since third grade. At first I thought it was some sort of dare. Like, “go hang out with that loser, I dare you”, but no, we’re actually friends. Amber is the exact opposite of me, but she’s nice enough and friendly enough.

            She sipped her soda in one hand while she placed a cold wet glass on the table near me. It was a coke; Amber had bought me a coke.

“Thanks.” I said, questioning why she had bought me it.

“No problem. There was a two for one combo anyway.” She said, taking a break from her soda. I knew she was lying, but didn’t feel like dealing with it. I’d pay her back later.

“I can’t stand those sophomores.” I spoke after a long silence.

“Hmm?” Amber questioned in a daze.

“Those sophomore boys keep playing “tag” after school with me.” I said using air quotes around ‘tag’.

“You were saying this before. They aren’t playing “tag”. They’re chasing you and bullying you. Don’t call it tag. It’s bullying. Not some fun game a first grader plays at recess!” Amber said excitedly. She wanted me to get help from some adult or something.

“Speak of the devil…”

“What?”

“I think I found my phone.” I said staring out the window behind Amber’s head to the street outside. She turned and looked out the window at the three boys playing around with a phone.

“C’mon! Let’s go before they come!” Amber scrambled. I stood, zipped up my leather jacket and pulled Amber who grabbed her dear soda and handed me mine.