“Please, Hannah Bolton doesn’t raise fools! She also says to get your ass in the car because she has a roast in the oven.”
I take the heavy bag from her with a grin and nod. I watch her skip out of the dugout and across the infield in her little dress and work boots and she drags my heart right along behind her.
Chapter 6 - Mars
The late fall sun warms my skin and I’m grateful for it as I still haven’t found a decent winter jacket priced low enough at the thrift store. I grew so much this year that the one I’ve had for the last four years is too small to stretch over my shoulders. I carefully stretch my side against the pain in my ribs. They’re slowly healing from the kick I took, getting in my foster father’s way last week when he was aiming it at one of the younger kids. Same shit, different day.
I rub my stomach when it growls loudly at how empty it is and lean back against the metal bleacher seat behind me. This is the third day in a row that I’ve ended up out here. I can’t stand sitting in the cafeteria with the guys as they plow through lunch trays filled with pizza and burgers or whatever else was at the counter. Better to be out here alone than one of them notice and start pitying the poor kid. Food’s always scarce in the second half of the month before the government checks come in. I just have to push through it like I always do. It’s easier this time of year when I’m not playing sports that burn through so many calories.
A flash of red catches my eye and I hunch down, hoping not to be seen, as Luna climbs up a few of the stairs and throws herself down to the metal bench. She hasn’t noticed me so I keep my mouth shut and hope she doesn’t stick around long. Something clearly has her in a snit because she slams her backpack down beside her and makes a tiny roar of frustrated annoyance before settling still with a huff. She’s a fucking cute little doll of a girl. I’ve gotten to know her a little bit since she transferred schools and from the Sunday dinners her parents insist on all of Atlas’s friends going to. As far as I can tell, her kindness, her sweetness, is genuine. She’s also funny and can give as good as she gets when any of us guys are teasing her.
My eyes trace down the ripples of red and gold that hang down her back and I try to muffle the laugh I make when she throws her hands into the air like she’s having a silent argument with someone. I’m not successful and all that pretty hair flies to the side when she whips around to glare up at me. She huffs out again and scowls.
“Oh, it’s you. What are you doing out here, Mars?”
I toss it right back. “What are you doing out here, Little Moon?”
Her brow furrows and then she grabs her pack and stomps up the metal seats until she’s on my level and drops down a few feet from me.
She hits me with the biggest eye roll. “Girl drama. Teenage girls are such freaking idiots!”
I bark out a laugh. “Oh yeah? What does that make you, then?”
She side-eyes me hard. “Obviously, one of the few that are NOT idiots.”
I have to concede that. I’ve spent enough time across from her at her parents' table to know she’s actually pretty nice and funny, for a friend’s little sister. She looks at her watch and sighsbefore opening her backpack and hauling things out, setting them between us.
“Damn it! Forgot my Spanish textbook. Now I’m going to have to go back to my locker to get it before the bell rings.”
She stuffs a binder and sweater back into the bag but when she reaches for the insulated lunch bag, her hand stops and she frowns at it before picking it up and hefting it as if judging the weight. She lets out a light laugh and shakes her head, meeting my eyes.
“God, my mom is such a scatterbrain. I love her, and she’s awesome but this is the third time she’s made a lunch for me even though I told her I’ve been using my lunch card in the cafeteria and don’t need one.”
I break eye contact so she won’t see the resentment that flares up in me. It’s hard not to envy her and Atlas for the parent jackpot they hit.
“Here, if you’re anything like my brother, who can eat every hour, you should take it. It’d be a real shame to just throw it out.” She pushes it across the metal bench to me and stands, tossing her pack over her shoulder. “Got to go get my Spanish book. See ya!”
My eyes dart from the lunch bag beside me to her back as she steps down to the next level. My pride wants me to toss the bag at her but the ache of hunger in my stomach keeps me frozen in place. My shoulders stiffen when she stops and turns back with a frown and then slump when she reaches out and snags the bag. She narrows her eyes at me as she flips it open and reaches inside, rummages around and comes out with a cookie that she immediately stuffs into her mouth.
Her words are mumbled around it when she says, “Is my fav-rite.”
Then she tosses the bag right into my lap so I’m forced to grab hold of it. I sit there with my fingers tight around the bagand watch her bounce down the metal stairs until she disappears around the side and then I slowly relax. She has no idea how much I needed this lunch today. There's a baggie with two cookies in it that I pull out of the way to get at the thick sandwich piled high with deli meat. It’s so fucking good, I almost inhale the first half of it. The weight of the bag in my lap is still pretty heavy for a bag lunch that I've already pulled the sandwich out of. I reach in and pull out what’s left and that’s when I know damn well that Atlas’s mom had nothing to do with packing this lunch.
There are two heavy Tupperware containers with what looks like leftover lasagna in them and in between them is a school lunch punch card for twenty meals with my name on it. That little fucking actress! She played me. I finger the punch card and feel something on the back so I flip it over. There’s a Post-it note stuck to it.
You dropped this. Don’t worry, I’m the only one who knows.
My jaw clenches at knowing she somehow figured out I’ve been going without food. I need to track the little brat down and give it back to her. I’m not a fucking charity case!
There’s an arrow pointing to the side of the note so I peel it off and turn it over and can’t help but laugh, all the anger and fight draining out of me.
Shut up and use the damn card, Mars! I won’t take it back.
She’s drawn a smiley face with its tongue stuck out underneath it.
I shake my head and carefully fold the note and put it and the lunch card in my wallet before eating the rest of the lunch my best friend’s little sister packed for me. The Tupperware goes into my backpack and the last of the tension in my shoulders fades away, knowing I’ll have at least two decent dinners athome this week. All because of one nosey, special girl with red and gold hair.
Chapter 7 -Torrin
