Page 4 of Tiny Fractures

I make my way to my table and take the seat on the empty lab stool.

“Hi, I’m Vada,” the girl says in a whisper. She smiles widely, holding her hand out for me to shake.

“I’m Cat,” I whisper back, taking her hand.

“Like Catherine?”

I bite my bottom lip, shaking my head. “Nope, just Cat,” I say like I have a million-billion-gazillion times in my life, because that’s what everyone always asks me. “With a C, like the animal with whiskers and a tail and the ability to purr.” I follow it up with a giggle.

“Holy shit, I love that!” Vada exclaims, loudly enough for Mr. Lawrence to turn around with his lips pressed together.

“Miss Walker! At least give your new friend an opportunity to get acclimated and maybe listen to the lecture for a few minutes,” he warns Vada with a throaty chuckle.

“Sorry, Mr. Lawrence. It won’t happen again,” Vada says.

Mr. Lawrence doesn’t look convinced. “Yes it will, and everyone here knows it,” he says simply, and turns back to continue his demonstration of the proper formula to calculate the rate of decay of an isotope.

Mr. Lawrence is right. Vada doesn’t stop talking to me—at me, whatever—for the remainder of the class, and I can’t say I hate it. By the end of the lecture, I know that Vada is on the varsity softball team. She screeched with excitement, earning her another warning from Mr. Lawrence, when she realized I was the new teammate her coach had told the team about last week. I also learn that Vada has a twin brother, Zack, who is apparently way more “artsy” and less “science-y” than Vada, and that she has a “hot-ass boyfriend”—Steve, a senior—whom she’s been dating for almost a year now. This, in turn, leads to Vada telling me that the varsity ice hockey team—on which her boyfriend is the first line left forward—brings home all the trophies and championships, whereas the football team can’t ever seem to make it to playoffs season.

“What’s your next period?” Vada asks after she pulls me out of the physics lab and brings me to a halt in the middle of the hallway, causing the onslaught of other students walking between classes to part like the Red Sea.

“Uhh, French with Miss Trudeaux.” I pronounce the name slowly, looking at my schedule.

“Ew, okay, let me walk you there really quick,” Vada offers sweetly, leading me to my third-floor classroom. “Okay, so it looks like we have the same lunch period—yay,” Vada says, glancing at my schedule still securely clasped in my hand. “We don’t eat in the cafeteria. We eat under the large oak tree in the courtyard when the weather is nice. You can’t miss it. Grab your lunch—abstain from the chicken sandwich,” she warns with a disgusted face, “and then meet us there.”

I don’t get a chance to ask her who “we” and “us” is before Vada whirls around and rushes away to whatever her next class is.

***

I make it through my next two classes okay, desperately attempting to fly under the radar. Then I head to the cafeteria where I get the egg salad sandwich and an apple. When I walk out to the courtyard, I see Vada was right: it’s impossible to miss the large oak tree. Vada’s already sitting cross-legged in the grass next to another girl, chatting animatedly.

“Hey!” Vada calls to me, waving me over the second she sees me approach.

I set my tray down on the grass, then sit cross-legged, facing her and the other girl whose big blue eyes are absolutely stunning, especially offset by her dark hair and tanned skin.

“Cat, this is Tori. Tori, Cat,” Vada introduces us, and I shake Tori’s hand.

“Hey, Cat,” Tori greets me sweetly.

I notice movement in my periphery and turn my head in the direction of a guy who looks just like Vada but in male form.

“Hey, did you grab my water bottle this morning?” the guy asks Vada, not even acknowledging me as he unceremoniously sits down in the grass and pulls his backpack open.

“Uh, why the hell would I do that?” Vada asks him.

“Because I have yours,” the guy says, pulling a light-green metal canteen out of his backpack.

“Oh, shit.” Vada laughs and pulls open her own backpack, sheepishly retrieving a black metal canteen. “Whoops. Sorry about that.” Vada nods toward me. “So, I made a new friend.”

The guy’s head turns in my direction. “I’m so sorry. Whatever my sister has already said or done to you… I’m so sorry.” He reaches his hand out to me, and I laugh out loud while shaking it.

“Oh, shut up, Zack,” Vada says with an exaggerated eye roll. “This is Cat. She’s new, obviously, and being the charitable individual I am, I have immediately adopted her.”

“I’m so, so sorry,” Zack whispers to me, earning himself a swat on his shoulder from his sister.

“Cat, this is my twin brother, Zack. Some just refer to him as my stupider, uglier sibling, but you can call him Zack,” Vada says.

Tori laughs while Zack grunts.

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