Page 13 of The Bro Date
Ifind Toby in the cafeteria the following morning, sitting at a small table next to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Sunlight pours in, casting a golden glow over him and illuminating his shiny curls.
Our early classes align most days, so we meet up for breakfast. I’d much rather cook, but there just isn’t enough time. Besides, I paid for a meal plan, so I’m going to use it.
“Morning. Can I sit here?” I ask with a small, teasing smile, nodding to his backpack in one chair, sweatshirt in the next, and his violin case in the third. I stand in front of him, holding my tray while I patiently wait for an answer, like we’re back in grade school, and it’s the first day of class.
“Hey,” Toby responds before a big yawn. “Yeah, ’course.” He grabs the hoodie and tosses it on top of his backpack, leaving the chair next to him vacant.
An overwhelming sense of déjà vu hits me, and I quickly take a seat, being transported back to the very first day we met in the fifth-grade cafeteria.
“Hi. Can I sit with you?”
I set my square pizza back on the tray and stare at the boy standing next to my table. He’s so much smaller than me and everyone else, with curly brown hair and strange gold eyes.
I shrug, scooping up a bite of the disgusting, watery corn and reluctantly chewing it because I know I need to eat, and I’ll regret it later if I don’t.
I can’t sleep when I’m hungry.
“My name is Tobias. What’s yours?” he asks, placing a purple lunch box on the table and sitting in front of me with a curious stare.
“Shane,” I rasp, continuing to shovel food into my mouth, knowing the bell will ring sooner than we think, and I definitely want to get to the cupcake sitting on the corner of my tray.
It’s not standard for free lunch, but Ms. Patricia, the lunch lady, always sneaks me one.
“Can we be friends, Shane?” Tobias asks, smiling at me like he hopes I’ll say yes, even though we just met.
His question catches me off guard, but I shrug again. No one’s ever asked to be my friend before.
“Okay! If we’re friends now, then you can call me Toby.”
“Toby,” I repeat, testing the name out.
His smile widens further, causing dimples to pop out in his rosy cheeks. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone so excited before. I glance down at the butterfly on his shirt, realizing he’s got to be a lot younger than the rest of us. Especially me, now that I’m a year older than everyone.
I adjust my stupid sling, grimacing when my shoulder throbs. I fell off my bike last weekend, and the doctor said I’m lucky I didn’t break my arm. Mom wasn’t happy because my urgent care visit cleared out her savings.
“Can I sign it?” Toby suddenly asks, and I stare at him a moment, creasing my brows and sipping my chocolate milk.
Huh?
Oh, he means like a cast.
“No one signs slings,” I tell him matter-of-factly, watching his face fall and instantly regretting it.
“But you can,” I blurt, nearly stuttering over my words because I’m not used to having a friend. I reach into my backpack and pull out a black Sharpie.
“Hey, Shane. Who’s the new kid?” Adam sneers, interrupting us and eyeing Toby like he wants to start a fight.
Over my dead body.
The thought hits me out of nowhere, but it’s strong.
“Toby,” I answer, squinting my eyes at Adam and daring him to say something else.
“Why’s he got a butterfly on his shirt and a purple lunch box?”
I stand from the lunch table, clenching my good fist, ready to knock him out if he says one more stupid thing. “So?” I ask. “What’s it to you?”
“Isn’t that for girls?” Adam asks with an ugly smile I want to punch off his face.
