“Thanks, uh . . .”
“William,” he answered, moving a step toward me.
“Thank you, William.”
“You’re welcome, uh . . .”
“June.”
“I like it.” He said this with ease, as if rescuing damsels in distress on their first day of school was something he did all the time. I stared at him, hypnotized by his delicate features and admiring his face for a few seconds too long. He didn’t seem to mind. Then he disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared.
This place is really weird.
My stomach roared at me angrily. I decided not to waste any more time. I’d already ignored the hunger pangs for long enough.
I headed toward a vending machine, and saw a long line of people in front of it. I went to the back of the line. The atmosphere became agitated as a figure cut to the front.
“Get in line like the rest of us,” someone yelled.
“The queen of only caring about herself has arrived,” a guy wearing huge Coke-bottle glasses chimed in.
A blond girl in a cheerleader outfit glared at him threateningly.
“Yeah, you’re right. Iamthe queen, so shut up and wait your turn.”
I suddenly became hyperaware of how my hair looked like a straw-colored rat’s nest. I almost felt like I was standing in front of an otherworldly goddess. There was no way a human being could have such beautiful, perfect facial features. Her hair was so shiny that it looked like it had been woven from honey. But her haughty expression fell as I heard a familiar voice.
“What the fuck is going on here?” James Hunter demanded, coming within an inch of the poor soul who’d dared to stand up to the girl. His glare made his victim tremble. “What the fuck is the problem here?” he demanded again, without any regard to how rude he sounded.
“N-no,” the boy stammered, terrified. “Problems.”
James’s profile was perfect. He looked like a real-life Renaissance painting created with delicate brushstrokes that accentuated the curve toward the top of his nose and a soft chiaroscuro contrast that highlighted the protruding curves of his pouty lips.
“That’s better. For a second I thought I heard you say something different,” he sneered, as he fiddled with a vape pen.
Meanwhile, the girl had just grabbed her fresh coffee from the machine. She stood on her tippy-toes to reach James’s height. I don’t know if they kissed or not. I averted my eyes until I heard her say, “Forget it, Jamie.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and they walked away like they owned the school.
“I take it you just witnessed what kind of degenerates Hunter and his friends are?”
Brian and Amelia had caught up with me, and I couldn’t help but eye the packet of cookies that Amelia was holding with both hands.
“Why’d Hunter go to juvie?” I asked, in an attempt to hide the fact that I was about to faint from hunger.
Amelia glanced at her brother, who kept silent.
“Let’s just say that what you saw today is just the tip of the iceberg,” she answered as she handed me an Oreo.
My eyes lit up. My life philosophy was very simple—whoever shared food was worthy of friendship.
“Thanks, Amelia.”
I held the cookie with my fingertips for a moment before popping it into my mouth.
“What could be worse than what I saw today?” I asked naïvely as we headed toward the courtyard.
Amelia touched her lower lip with her index finger as if to check if her lipstick was still on. “Do you mean him threatening the teachers, the drug dealing, the fights, the street racing, the multiple incidents of vandalism . . .”
