your power || billie eilish

chapter five

At lunch, Billie returned to what I was starting to see as her "regular self." Arrogant, playful, loud. She sat with me at a table in the corner of the cafeteria. I didn't get myself any food in line—I'd completely lost my appetite. She, however, was eating. She kept offering me stuff off her tray.

"What class is next?" She asked, gazing at me. I was unnerved by her eyes. God, they were so blue.

"Um." A pause. I had to remind myself how to think. "We have...math? And then science."

"Fuck, I hate math."

"Me too. But the math teacher isn't as bad as the science one. I've heard that she assigns work on the very first day. Like, huge projects."

"Ew."

"I kn—"

I stopped speaking mid-sentence and stared, slack-jawed, across the cafeteria. Henry was standing over by the vending machines, talking with a small huddle of other teachers. I caught his eye. He was wearing a white button-down shirt and businesslike pants. It was an outfit he'd refer to as "trying to be professional." In his free time, when we were holed up in his den watching old movies, he'd wear shirts with the names of obscure bands or ancient cartoons on them. I'd stolen one of those shirts once, the only one whose logo I knew—it was a Beach Boys tee. I wore it to bed sometimes, but I constantly worried that if my mother saw me in it, she'd get suspicious. Of course, that was a crazy fear. My mother probably wouldn't notice if I walked around in an inflatable dinosaur costume.

Henry shot me a half smile that made my heart flutter. His eyes crinkled when he smiled even the slightest bit. From all the way across the cafeteria the crinkles weren't visible to me, but I knew they were there. It made me happy to know they were there.

Billie waved a hand in front of my face, breaking my stretch of awed silence. 

"Julie?" She asked. She turned around to see what I was looking at. When she saw Henry, anger ran through her expression. She turned back to me.

"I need to go to my locker 'cause I forgot something, actually," she said, standing, "and you're gonna come with me."

Before I could object, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of my chair. She walked fast, shouldering through the throngs of people and out of the cafeteria. Her demeanor was off. She did not speak as she tugged me outside, but her grip on my arm seemed to strengthen.

"Wait," I said. I tried to pull against her, to stop moving, but she didn't pause. "Billie, wait. I thought you said you wanted to get something from your locker. Your locker isn't outside. What are you doing?"

She finally swung around, her face inches from mine. "Sorry. I just wanted air. It's hot inside, y'know?"

We were standing in the middle of the school's front lawn. The sky was an overcast gray, and a light mist still lingered over the ground. It couldn't have been more than sixty-five degrees out. 

"Here," she breathed, still holding my wrist, leading me over to a bench that looked out on the parking lot. We sat down wordlessly. She was so close that our legs were touching.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked. 

"Mad? What? No, why would I even be mad at you?"

"I don't know. You just seem sort of upset."

"I am, but not at you. Don't worry." She seemed uncomfortable, desperate to change the subject. "The cafeteria food sucks ass," she added. 

I smiled weakly. "I know."

"You didn't eat anything."

"I'm not hungry. And stop deflecting. We aren't talking about me, we're talking about you. Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"Stop asking that. I'm not." Her tone was brisk. She sighed. "Please, Julie, forget about it."

"Okay," I answered hesitantly. "I'll forget about it."

*