Dark Chocolate Cherry

AMITIES

Nolan and I take a seat at a picnic table around the outside of the rectangular courtyard, our only companions two Goths that have taken a table a few feet away from us. Other students come and go as they please, a few racing like lightning to a class they'll never get to. The table is a mosaic that must have been done by a student, because it's initialed in one corner. I reach into my backpack for my cigarettes, but then realize I can't have them in the courtyard or I could get expelled. I shove my backpack underneath the table in an attempt to resist the urge. Nolan grins shyly and runs his hand through his hair.

"So, uh..." I start. "How are you?"

"Fine."

"How are your parents doing?"

"Fine." He won't look at me. Why won't he look at me?

"What about Olive? Does she know about the—"

"No."

I scoff. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing."

"Really?" He nods slowly. "I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't act like a complete jerk if nothing's wrong with you!"

Nolan attempts to loosen himself, but he still seems incredibly uncomfortable. "Sorry."

"Are you mad at me?" I press. "Cause if you are, it's better to come out and say so instead of—"

"I'm not mad at you," he says calmly.

"Well, then why are you acting like this?"

He doesn't answer. I scoff. "You're unbelievable."

There's a short period of time when neither one of us says anything. I almost jump when Nolan suddenly says, "You're actually kind of intimidating when you're beautiful."

"Good."

"You see, that's why I'm being so jerky," he explains jokingly, finally turning to look up at me. "Your beauty is so ridiculously intimidating that it's setting off my jerky-ness and making both of us unhappy."

I smile, and so does he. "You know, Nolan Steinke, you really can be funny when you want to." I pause. "Do you really think I'm intimidating?"

"Of course I think you're intimidating," Nolan mumbles. "I mean, the last pretty girl I talked to treated me like dirt."

"But I'm not a pretty girl," I whisper. "I'm Inge."

"Exactly. It's unusual talking to a person I see every day looking all supermodel gorgeous who I never think of—" he stops talking and I mumble, "Wow. Thanks."

"What I mean is," he continues. "I'm just not used to..."—he gestures across the table to me—"...this."

"I'm still the same person." I say coldly. "The only thing different about me is that this morning I decided to decorate my face with strange chemicals."

Nolan smirks, but then his face turns serious. "Did you hear the latest?"

"No." I pause. "Have you—?"

"Emily broke up with Al before school yesterday." He pauses when he notices how suspicious I must look. "Olive told me."

"And... why is this important?"

"Emily Newport. And Al the football player who beats me up."

"Yeah, still doesn't make sense." Then it does. "Oh. Never mind. I thought you said you didn't like her anymore."