One Last Thing ✅

nine things

Riley is saving a seat for me at our usual table in the corner of the cafeteria. She has unpacked her sandwich, a baggie of carrots, some Little Debbie snack cakes, and a can of Mountain Dew. When she sees me, she retrieves half of the sandwich and holds it out to me wordlessly.

"I'm not hungry," I say, sitting across from her.

She shrugs and takes a bite of it herself, leaving a bit of tuna salad by the corner of her mouth. 

"What's up?" she asks before she's finished chewing. For being so type A, she has terrible table manners.

I sigh. "Mrs. Edwards caught me cheating on the Hamlet exam."

Riley swallows. "What did you do that for?"

Reaching out, I pluck one of the carrot sticks from the baggie. I turn it over and over, considering the question. I don't really know why I do some of the things I do. I guess sometimes just because it's easy. In this case, it was nice to feel like someone was watching out for me, even if it was Rose Evans and her motives were suspicious at best. 

And, let's face it, sometimes I just don't think.

"I don't know," I say. "Mrs. Edwards said I could retake it after school, but that's not going to do any good. There's no way I can read the play before then." I drop the carrot stick back into the bag.

Riley grabs it and takes a bite. She crunches thoughtfully. "Look, I read that play in AP last year. I could give you... like... the gist of it."

Suddenly Grams is in my head, and I'm arguing with her again about the definition of cheating. 

You're just cheating yourself, I can almost hear her say.

I shake my head. "No, don't worry about it. I'll figure something out."

At that moment, Abbott drops his tray onto the table next to Riley. It's loaded with three slices of pizza, two cartons of milk, and a side salad. I wonder why he bothers with the salad. Jared slides into the seat next to me, holding a bag of Cheetos. "What's up?" he asks.

Riley shoots me a look, and I shake my head slightly.

"Nothing," I say, looking away.

Riley watches me for a second, then turns to Abbott, plucks a crouton from his salad, and pops it into her mouth.

"Hey now," he tells her, holding up one finger in admonishment. "You haven't earned any croutons."

"And how," Riley says through a mouthful of half-dissolved spice and bread particles, "does one earn a crouton?"

Abbott opens a carton of milk. "There's a point system. Five points for coming early tonight to help me set up my drums. Five points can earn you a crouton."

Riley seems to consider this. "Done." She reaches for another crouton.

Abbott slaps her hand away. "You've already consumed said crouton."

Riley crosses her arms over her chest.

I find myself smiling, despite the ball of dread in my stomach. Looking from Riley's face to Abbott's, I feel a little bit normal, like maybe, if I can just get through this afternoon, everything will be okay.

But then my gaze falls on Jared's stiff expression, and my grin fades away.