Tightrope

Woody Boy

Making my way to lunch was a tedious affair. As if navigating the hallways hadn't been hard enough before, some evil deity decided to have a field day by sending the girl on crutches to wander the halls amongst crowds of fellow students. It wasn't easy to shove through my peers when I had no hands to shove with. Clearly, they were all assholes, because no one bothered to move out of my way and clear a path. Zero respect for the crippled. 

And despite what she'd told Jace, Cady made no effort to help me out. She merely smirked and enjoyed watching me bounce around like the white ball in pool. 

"Thanks, Cades," I said, as Daria's mountain-of-douche-and-muscles boyfriend Nate Lever knocked me in the lockers. He didn't apologise. "I love the help and support here."

"Any time," she said. She was looking at her phone, and I think I saw that she was texting Daria about Nate being a dick, so I doubt she even heard what I was saying. 

After being knocked over twice and battered to within an inch of my life, I finally found a respite outdoors. My friends had claimed a table beneath a large oak tree Daria had fondly named 'Woody Boy', back in our very first year. Of course, Jonah thought this was hilarious, mostly because Daria was genuinely confused as to why it was funny. Yet, both the name and table stuck; at least that hadn't changed while I was away.

"Lena!" Chance jumped up from his seat at the sight of me, his arms flapping at his sides. Chance was in a constant state of panic. At all times, at least some part of him was shaking, like a leaf in the wind. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said cheerfully, as my leg throbbed in pain. "I'm brilliant, really."

Chance seemed to brighten at my words; the sarcasm lost on him. He was one of those people who trusted everything he heard; he'd probably lose all his money to pyramid schemes as soon as he had money to lose. Lies were beyond his capacity of understanding. It was something I loved about him; he was so genuinely honest and guileless. The opposite of his younger brother, Alex, who would tell you that the sun rose in the west, just because he could. And because Alex could make you believe it, too.

Alex was sitting to Chance's left and he offered me a small wave and a mischievous grin. I smiled in return. On the other side of the bench, Jonah twitched his fingers in acknowledgment.

I hobbled over. Chance instantly scooted closer to Alex, patting the space he'd previously occupied. "Here, sit down."

With a tired sigh, I collapsed into the seat he offered me. "I hate Jace Hartley."

"Nice to see you too, sunshine," Jonah said wryly, not bothering to sit up to greet me. He liked to lie across the bench with his hand draped over his eyes and only drift awake to make unwanted sarcastic remarks. Jonah was apathetic at best. "Welcome back. How've you been?"

Cady rounded the table and sat on Jonah's legs; he was unwilling to give up his lunchtime nap to help accommodate everyone, so this was the compromise we figured out.

I leaned over Chance to ruffle Jonah's shock of dark hair. "I missed you, Jonah the Stoner." My friendship with Jonathan Aristone dated back to the days of being crawling toddlers. Even then, he'd had laziness down to an art form.

Chance waved his fork. "What'd Jace do?"

I glared down at my food as if the lettuce had offended me. Maybe it was secretly an evil minion of Hartley's, worming its way into my life with its unassuming tastelessness. "Hartley was nice to me! Like, actually nice. He hugged me and said nice things about me."

Alex dropped the muffin he was holding. "He was what?"

"I know! He's carrying my books from class to class."