I barely have the time to reach my locker after Geography class, and Charlotte is already on my heels. She says there’s apparently something we need to discuss; she forbids me from sitting with the boys at lunch.

So I sit with the girls.

Our cafeteria is small, fit for the very limited number of students in our school, but that day it feels even smaller. It feels like I can’t breathe. Being called out by strangers is one thing; being called out by a friend is another. But being called out on your behavior by three of your best friends, it sucks the oxygen out of a cafeteria faster than the words “remember we have a test next period?”.

Marie is the angriest. She shouts, and she accuses, and she doesn’t realize it, but she’s not entirely being fair either. Charlotte tries to act supportive, and I see she’s not mad for the same reasons: mainly she’s hurt that I’m not talking to her about the situation. That these are the lengths she has to go to to get me to listen to her. Still, she doesn’t help.

Even Shanna is in on it. In typical Shanna fashion, she doesn’t get mad. She doesn’t scream, she is not pointing fingers. She is not pleased, but she talks calmly, clearly, and out of the three of them, she is the only one whose words I hear.

I know that she is right.

Ambush!

This would have been my last chance to talk to her, and her only. Maybe I would have been excused from the rest of the plan.

You know an argument is serious when there’s a half-eaten slice of pizza on the table and no one has made a claim for it yet.

No use defending yourself…

… When you’re attacked on all fronts.

Thank Plumbob for how oblivious teenage boys can get.