Page 7 of It's in the Contract
“Not there,” she says.
I frown but follow her to a different table that’s already crowded with girls. Kayla forces her butt onto a bench that’s almost full.
“Hey!” Chelsea Connors protests. Kayla glares, and Chelsea begrudgingly scoots over to make room.
“Shouldn’t we sit there?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder at the boy. “There’s plenty of space.”
Kayla lets out a harsh laugh. “Girl, I just saved you from social suicide. Did you see the book he was reading? Nerd. And I asked around, because he’s new, you know, and I heard he’s joining the gamer club.” She lowers her voice and leans in, a conspiratorial grin on her face. “You don’t want to become the next Destiny Chodekwitz.”
I inhale sharply.
“Destiny?” Chelsea asks, still wearing an irritated frown. Her curly black hair is tamed by a blue headband.
“You know.” Kayla laughs delightedly, like she’s sharing a juicy secret. Irritation flares in my chest. “That senior last year who was dumped by her boyfriend?” Kayla opens a zip-loc baggie of baby carrots. “And then a month later she started dating Vince Bradley, that total dork who only cares about anime and bug-collecting. She wasshunnedfor the rest of the year.”
“Don’t worry, Callie. You can sit here,” says Nicole, a drama club girl with spotless white converse shoes. She smiles and scoots over. Somehow Dana, Suzy, and I all squeeze onto the bench. My elbows brush against Suzy’s as I pick up my fork and resume eating.
Kayla launches into a story about the Sicilian vineyards she toured over the summer. Ever so slowly, the lunchroom activity returns to a normal level. I can breathe again.
Brielle Williams. Why did it have to be her?
Brielle is like strawberry shortcake—looks pretty, but actually not that sweet. What could Noah possibly see in her? Yeah, she’s had a crush on him forever, and shehatedthat we were together. Looks like she finally got what she wanted.
I sneak glances at the two of them while the conversation flows around me. I have to admit, they’re cute together. So cute, it’s disgusting. It hurts more than I can say to see them laughing and talking, Noah’s arm around Brielle’s back, his thumb stroking the bare skin of her shoulder. Those arms used to be around me. The lips whispering in her ear and making her laugh used to be for me.
I look away and force myself to take a bite of spaghetti and meatballs, hearing my mom’s voice in my head shouting about more protein. Nausea tumbles in my stomach, but I swallow.
This was so . . . so unexpected.
Dana reaches under the table and squeezes my knee. I give her a grateful smile. I try to take another bite of food and listen to Kayla’s story. The whole table laughs, and I join in even though I have no idea what’s going on.
I sneak another look at Noah and Brielle. He’s kissing her cheek. Bleh. Do they have to keep doing that?
Suzy sets her fork down and looks at me. “Callie. Are you okay?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open my eyes again, I think the tears are at bay. I want to say, “I’m fine,” but what comes out is, “What did I do wrong?”
“Oh, Cal.” Suzy wraps me up in a hug. I bury my face in her shoulder, only for a moment.
When she lets go, I notice that the brown-skinned boy with the book that Kayla judged so harshly and quickly is watching me. He hurries to look away.
I’ve almost forgotten about Brielle and Noah off to my right (not really), and I’m able to eat a bit more. When I sneak a glance, they’re gone. Then suddenly I see them at my left, exiting the cafeteria; Katrina and Troy are close behind, though Troy glances behind at us with a mournful look.
Brielle winks at me over her shoulder before nuzzling her face into Noah’s neck. He turns and plants a kiss on her forehead.
My stomach churns with a nasty mix of jealousy and meatballs and marinara. I swallow. The nausea gets stronger, rushing up from my stomach to my throat. My insides feel like a stand mixer whirring dough.
Oh no.
I stand, pushing my chair back. Heads turn to look at me.
“Girl, where are you going?” Kayla asks, looking perturbed that her story was interrupted.
I turn and scramble to get out of the room. I put one hand over my mouth, and I run through the cafeteria in my beautiful new boots, slipping and sliding in my haste.
I only make it a few steps before my stomach heaves.No, no, no.I clamp my jaw shut, but my swirling insides have other plans. Bile rushes into my throat, and the acidic taste of tomatoes and partially digested meat fills my mouth. I remove my hand from my lips, and vomit explodes all over the floor in one churning hurl.
I stare at the barf on the cafeteria floor, thick and reddish-brown. Chunks have splattered onto my shoes and tights, reaching almost up to my knees. Horror strikes me, and my eyes widen.Is that really mine? Did that really happen?
