By the time lunch rolled around I was actually kind of dreading it. I wasn’t sure who I wanted to see least: Alex, because I felt guilty about seeing Asher yesterday; Asher, because I wasn’t entirely sure what was going on with him; or Levi, because I still felt weirded out by sort of getting to know each other in lab and practically being electrocuted by his touch.
I was getting my stuff at my locker when Alex showed up. “Hey, lady. Ready for lunch?”
I nodded, carrying the lunch my mother insisted on making me today when she found out I didn’t eat anything from the cafeteria yesterday. “The stuff they serve in the cafeteria is crap anyway. At least this is healthy,” she had said.
I scanned the cafeteria as soon as we walked in and my eyes automatically went to Asher. There he was at the same table, with the same people as yesterday. Maybe even a few more. Girls were sitting on either side of him and there was one standing behind him leaning over him. It was a wonder I could see him at all. Even worse, it was like I could just sense him there. But I refused to let myself go down that clichéd high school romance novel road. We did not have some kind of supernatural connection. We were not soul mates. I was just hungry.
“There’s your boyfriend,” I heard Alex say.
“Huh?” I got nervous wondering what he knew.
“I said, ‘there’s my boyfriend.’” He gestured toward Asher.
Great. Now I felt even worse. I wanted to tell Alex about yesterday but I was trying to figure out what, exactly, to tell him that wouldn’t humiliate me or send him into an apoplectic fit.
“And there’s your boyfriend,” he said. I turned to look in the direction he was facing and saw Levi. He was sitting by himself at a table near the doors to the courtyard, facing the window.
“He’s not so bad, you know,” I said. It was one thing for me to make fun of Levi, but now that we were sort of friends, or at least, friendly-ish, I wasn’t comfortable hearing it from anyone else. “He’s my lab partner.”
“See! He is your boyfriend!” Alex jumped up and down and clapped his hands. We made our way to our usual table and I sat down and started pulling out the contents of my brown bag lunch, or more like organic, reusable hemp sack lunch. Hummus, carrots and celery, an apple, organic fat-free milk, a (reusable) bottle of water, and some whole-wheat crackers. “I think my mother has me confused with a rabbit,” I said, glumly looking at the spread before me.
“Oh, boo frickin’ hoo,” Alex said. “You know the last time my mom made me lunch?” Alex looked up at the ceiling like he was thinking, “Um . . . try never-ago!”
I immediately felt bad for not appreciating my mother. Despite my age, my mother still liked to occasionally baby me, whereas Alex had been pushed into independence early not only by his parents’ divorce, but by their super-successful, super-busy careers.
He looked over my spread to see if there was anything he could steal, but moved away in distaste. “You’re right. That’s all rabbit food right there. I’m going to get something fried that’s been fried again.”
Alex put his hand out, knowing I’d want him to get me a Diet Coke. “You know one day all that fried food is going to catch up with you,” I said as I put the money into his palm. He took it without comment and turned to walk toward the line of people. “You’re going to lose your girlish figure!” I called after him. He flipped me the bird without looking back. I turned back to my lunch and started munching on a carrot.
