Chapter 2 #2
A hush falls over the lunchroom. It feels to me like everyone freezes, forks midway to mouths, conversations put on pause. All eyes are upon us, trying to take in the juicy drama unfolding.
I blink. “Wha . . .? I must not have heard you right, I thought you said—”
“I’m breaking up with you. It’s over.” The way he enunciates slowly, like he’s talking to someone stupid, makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The way he emphasizes that he’s the one breaking up with me, in front of everyone . . .
Noah turns to leave, as if that’s that.
Troy stands, following after his friend. “Hang on, dude—”
Noah looks over his shoulder, his baby blue eyes boring into me. “There’s nothing left to say. We’re done.”
I crumple inside, and my eyes sting. My freshly painted nails dig into my palms. I’m clenching my fists so hard that the number twenty-two is probably going to be etched into my skin.
I stand. “That’s it? You’re not going to give me an explanation or anything?
You’re just going to dump me in front of everyone and leave? ”
Mortification wars with anger inside my chest, a hot tumble of emotions.
I can’t believe he would do this where everyone can see.
Tom Sheppard at the next table has pulled out his phone and is filming, covering up his mouth to hide a laugh.
Kayla is staring at me, one hand over her mouth, her eyes glittering.
“Why?” My voice comes out small and wobbly. “Why now?”
Suzy stands, her lunch forgotten. “How dare you? You worthless jerk! Callie is way too good for you, and you know it.”
I put a hand on Suzy’s arm. “Suzy, don’t—”
And then Brielle Williams walks through the lunchroom doors, and the attention turns to her.
Her presence demands it, with her confident smile and an aura of being large and in charge.
She rocks the “bigger girl look” and somehow makes me feel like skinny is going out of style, with her tanned skin, bright blue eyes, and eyelashes to her eyebrows.
Brielle strides in like she’s walking down a runway, one foot in front of the other, her legs shown off by a white mini skirt that she’s paired with a turquoise sequined tank top.
Brielle is trailed by her best friend, Katrina, who is a shorter version of Brielle.
A copy, from the obviously dyed blonde hair down to the skirt and top.
The only difference is that Katrina’s face has the unfortunate resemblance to a horse.
My stomach flips.
“Ugh. Brielle,” Suzy mutters.
“Over the summer she made sure to dm me every day commenting on my outfits, and they were not nice things,” Dana says, her pale green eyes moistening.
“She said that if I’m going to hang out with the popular crowd, I should at least dress like it.
” Troy tightens the arm around her, bringing her closer to him.
Suzy lets out a growl. “Brielle likes to put everyone around her down to make her feel better about herself. She’s done it to me and Callie for our entire lives.”
I give one sharp nod. I glance at Noah, and he’s staring at Brielle with a soft expression that makes my insides lurch.
“What are you guys talking about?” Kayla giggles. “I’ve always liked Brielle. She’s so cool, doing her plus-size beauty pageants and posting about body image on social media all the time.”
Brielle saunters right up to Noah and puts a hand on his chest. Katrina follows on Brielle’s heels. I expect Noah to back away or move Brielle’s hand, but instead he leans forward and gives her a kiss.
A kiss.
My heart stops. “Noah . . .” I trail off, my voice small.
Tom and a few of the boys at his table snicker.
A girl named Charity at a table to my left stares at us, her mouth open, like she can’t look away from the train wreck unfolding around her.
Katrina gives me a smirk that makes me want to smack her horsey face.
“Hey, babelicious,” Noah says after ungluing his lips from Brielle’s. My fists curl at my sides. That’s my nickname. Brielle smiles and doesn’t take her eyes off of me.
“So you’re breaking up with me—” I choke on the words. “To be with her?”
Everyone will be watching to see how I react, and what I do will be talked about for weeks. I blink back the angry tears gathering in the corners of my eyes. I have to keep it together, no matter how much I’m hurting.
The smile I plaster on my face feels like burnt butterscotch—sickly sweet with notes of heat. “So that’s it. We’re done.”
I decide in this moment that Noah will never see how much he has hurt me. He will not see a girl with a broken heart, shoved into depression by a stupid boy.
He’s going to see a queen.
“He was never worthy of you, Callie,” Suzy says. “Not if he’s going to pull a jerkwad move like this.” Her voice is acid. Dana glares at Brielle.
“What a gorgeous couple you make,” I say in my most upbeat voice, which comes easily after years of cheer. “You definitely deserve each other.”
Noah frowns, confused.
Brielle’s eyes light up. “We do, don’t we?” She looks me up and down. “You look great today, by the way. Not many people could pull off an outfit reminiscent of raw salmon, but you totally rock the look.” Her smile is barbed. Katrina laughs.
My teeth grind together, and I can’t help but glance down at my pink tights and gray sweater dress—the outfit I so carefully assembled this morning.
Brielle turns her face toward Noah, nuzzling her nose into his cheek. He can’t wrap his arms around her since he’s holding so much food, and it looks awkward, but my stomach still churns.
I take a seat, my limbs feeling like they’re encased in ice. That’s it, then. It’s over. I’m not going to beg him, I’m not going to ask him why or how, not in front of everyone. I try to turn my attention to my lunch, which is looking more and more unappetizing.
“I am just so proud of the work I’m doing,” Brielle brags.
Suzy growls. “Just leave us alone.”
“Girls all over the country feel better about themselves and their image because of me,” Brielle says. “Did you hear about my pageant over the summer? I won Miss Plus Size Washington.”
I force myself to take a bite of steamed broccoli before responding. I practically gag. “Congrats.” I look up in time to see Noah press a kiss to Brielle’s temple. Oh barf.
“And she’s almost up to 200,000 followers on Insta!” Katrina cries. “Where are you at?” Brielle smiles at me sweetly, but I see the villainous shine in her eyes.
As if they both don’t already know the answer to that. I clear my throat. “50K.”
“Oh. How sad.” Brielle’s lower lip sticks out in a pout.
I grab my tray and stand. “Bye.” I stalk away. Let people talk; I can’t be here anymore.
I see out of the corner of my eye Suzy following after me, and I hear a second set of footsteps as well.
Probably Dana. I feel bad taking her away from Troy, but I’m also immensely grateful for her support.
To my surprise, when I glance behind me, I see that Kayla has risen and joined our group as well.
Brielle and Noah can have our table. I don’t care.
I scan the cafeteria for an open seat. The room is quiet, and all eyes are on me. I blink away the moisture in my eyes.
“Wow.” Suzy mutters something in Korean under her breath, and I recognize some of the expletives Suzy taught me when we were kids, giggling behind her parents’ couch while we ate sour patch watermelons from the bag.
I stare around the lunchroom. People are whispering and giggling behind their hands. Some are huddled over their phones, probably already posting the gossip to social media.
Why are there no empty tables?
A hard lump rises in my throat, and my face burns.
I turn, looking around the room. Finally, I spot an empty table and practically sag in relief.
There’s only one boy sitting there with dark skin and curly black hair.
I know almost everyone in school, and I’m sure I’ve never seen him before.
He’s alone at his table, engrossed in a novel thicker than my calculus textbook.
The boy looks up at me and meets my eyes, and his are warm and brown.
He nods to the empty chairs next to him.
Gratitude rushes through me, and I start towards his table. A hand on my shoulder jerks me back, and I turn to see Kayla.
“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 was shunned for 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 she hated that 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?
I look up. The lunchroom is dead quiet, and everyone is staring at me.
Even Noah and Brielle have stopped and turned around to watch.
Noah looks from the floor to me, disgust on his face, and Brielle covers her mouth to hide a laugh.
Tom Sheppard guffaws from across the room and holds up a phone to snap a pic.
I want to rewind time, go back just a few moments, and choose to skip lunch or leave the cafeteria entirely or do anything anything anything other than be here.
I officially want to die.