Him & I

17

"It's not exactly stealing if I ask."

"And It's not exactly asking if you don't wait for a reply." Margo retorts, covering her plate with both hands. "Sam needs to learn manners. Can everyone on this table tell Sam she needs to learn manners?" Her sister chokes on a laugh as the rest let theirs out. But Amy's got too less care in the world to not roll her eyes instead, and I realize I have too much social anxiety to join in.

I've been drowning in turmoil ever since Sam hollered for me to come over, like I had missed my way and wasn't intentionally looking for the quietest side of the cafeteria to hide in. Whenever Pamela's absent, I prefer sitting alone. Because not only would I stick out like a sore thumb around them, but I'll be sticking out like a sore thumb without a friend.

Which doesn't really make sense.

"Anyone pumped for friday?"

"It's the friday of next month." Amy points out.

"Yes, but like, the anticipation" Steph sniffs the air in a sanity-questioning way and T raises a brow, "I can almost smell it. Plus, the posters where everywhere this morning. Still are."

"Please, don't remind me."

"Found a million slipped into your locker?" Sam asks.

"How are they even able to do that? " They laugh after a pause.

"You're never this excited for lacrosse." Brea says to Steph on her side.

"'Cause it's not interesting... Duh?"

"Your boyfriend's on the team."

She giggles. "Now, he's interesting."

It's not the sole reason, but part of why I had to get rid of it.

Blink. Hard. Maybe squeeze my eyes instead.

He's rocking back on his chair when I check out the other centre table. It's filled up with a lot of the seniors, and sports players with their girlfriends, and Tyler, yet Leo's the first person my eyes rest upon. Brown hair, freckled face, fair skin and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Leo was the father.

Midway chewing on my lip, his eyes find me. And No.

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Look away.

I can't!

Don't tell me he's coming here? What did I have written across my forehead now, I know what you did last summer?

I'd say it's a gift that my brain comes up with the cheesiest of things, if I wasn't tensed up. When I turn forward T notices the shift in my demeanor and is about asking what's wrong when he gets to our table.

"Hi, boyfriend."

"Hi." He looks down at Steph with a smile. I put all focus on my plate. "Hey, ladies." They simultaneously wave at him, some not looking up, and some doing so. Brea's stare lasts the longest. "Uh, where's Pamela?"

"She's sick." Steph says, pouting up at him. "My pretty mami's not okay."

Amy places her phone down beside her food. "Mami?"

She laughs, "That's just what I heard some girls in biology call her."

"She's sick?" Leo brings the conversation back, making Steph's smile fade.

"Yeah, she is. Isn't she?" She turns to me for confirmation, my anxiety returning as everybody else does the same.

"Uhm, yes."