Chapter Twelve - Betty

68 2 0
                                    

The majority of the student body still hadn't gotten over me and Pony's relationship, it seemed. I counted nearly a dozen people staring at me as I collected my lunch from the counter and sat across from Pony in the cafeteria. For the most part, I had gotten pretty good at ignoring them, but it still disconcerted me.

"Is Bryon eating down here today?" I asked Pony, dipping my spoon into the little cup of applesauce I had been given.

He was busy swirling his milk carton and frowning, his thoughts obviously far away.

I waited for a moment before trying again, assuming that he hadn't heard me over the din of the cafeteria. "Pony? Is Bryon coming down here today?"

He looked up at me, startled. "Uh... what what that? Can you repeat that again? Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck and attempted a grin.

"It's all right," I assured him. "I was just asking about Bryon. Is he eating in the cafeteria today?"

Pony shook his head. "Nah. He got detention from Syme and has to serve it during lunch."

"Ah. I see."

I watched him out of the corner of my eye as I scooped some applesauce into my mouth. Had the two of them been fighting or something? He seemed oddly disinterested in answering my question, and betrayed little emotion. And this silence ...

"So, how was your weekend? Do anything interesting?" I asked. Part of me cringed; I usually didn't have to drag the conversation out of him so painfully.

He continued to stare at the side of his milk carton, but he stopped swirling it around to reply. "Eh, not really. Hung around with the gang. Went for a jog. The usual."

"Well, that sounds nice. Time to de-stress."

He nodded his head, but didn't add anything more. I kept eating my applesauce, glancing up at him every so often. What the hell was going on? Something was off, but I couldn't place my finger on exactly what. The silence stretched on, feeling stranger than our usual silences. Pony and I didn't talk nonstop whenever we were with each other; there were often periods of silence where we didn't have to say anything to enjoy each other's company. But right now didn't feel like one of those times. Instead of contentment and security, I felt uneasy prickles creep down my back. Almost like there was something he wasn't telling me.

I tried to break the discomfort again by asking another question.

"Where'd you go on your run?"

"Around."

This time, I definitely caught a hard edge in his voice, and part of my suspicion was confirmed. There was something he wasn't saying! Still, I didn't know how to respond. Part of me still felt too distanced from him, too impersonal, to push the issue

"Oh. Just your regular route, then?" I said, knowing full well something must have happened on the run.

"Yeah, more or less."

"Did you not get enough sleep last night?" I laid my spoon down in concern and gave him my full attention. "You seem really down. Quiet."

Pony blinked up at me in surprise, finally completely forgetting about his milk carton and perhaps seeing me clearly for the first time for all of lunch period. "I do?" he said.

I nodded.

He must have read the worry in my frown, because he immediately sat up straighter and flashed me a more customary, carefree grin, one which almost, but not quite, reached his eyes. His posture relaxed. "Yeah, I must have had a bad night's sleep. You don't need to worry about me, though - I'm fit as a fiddle. Sorry I've been kind of spacing out."

A Boy Named Pony - A Sequel to East West SunsetWhere stories live. Discover now