The Rules of Life

Lunch time was always the worst. I mean, all of school sucked but lunch time was the only time where everyone was pushed together in one room. People were stressed from school and all the emotions ran high and together. The popular kids picked on the not popular kids and everyone else just tried to stay out of the way. Normally, I skipped the whole thing and hid out in the library or, on nice days, somewhere outside. But summer had officially faded away and rain came down in sheets outside the cafeteria window. I contemplated going to the library but my stomach gave a loud rumble so I knew that wouldn’t be smart.

Glancing down at my traitor stomach and at the increasingly long lunch line, I headed across the cafeteria. The floor was slippery from wet footprints and several times, I nearly slipped. But years of gymnastics from my childhood had given me great balance. Unfortunately, others weren’t so lucky.

A larger girl, wearing clothes too tight for her pudgy body, was hovering on the outskirts of the popular table. The popular girls, whose attention she was obviously vying for, blatantly ignored her, flipping their hair and shooting each other looks that anyone with a brain could interpret as annoyance. But this girl had obviously convinced herself that she was actually cool, with her skin-tight clothes, highlighted hair, and make-up that mirrored the popular girls, if they’d let five year olds put it on. Everything about her screamed try-hard.

She tottered around their table, trying to get Sophia to look at her, talk to her, acknowledge her. But Sophia knew that “losers” like her worshipped the ground she walked on. She knew she could easily control them and so, after making her beg, she turned around, smiling sickeningly sweet.

By now, I was close enough to hear what they were talking about. I could hear the desperation in the girl’s voice and the hidden malice in Sophia’s. Whatever she was planning, it wouldn’t end well for this girl.

“Amber, right? It is Amber, isn’t it?” Sophia said. The girl’s eyes lit up. Oh my god, she knows my name! You could hear her thoughts, like they were screamed through a megaphone. She nodded furiously. I stopped walking, a few feet away. “Listen… Amber. My friends and I,” she looked at the table of girls, who snickered behind their hands, “would you take this to Dash Sheppard?” She held out a folded piece of paper. I’m pretty sure everyone within hearing distance stopped to listen. Dash Sheppard was considered the hottest guy in school by many. And even once upon a time, I’d wanted to be the one who captured his attention.

Amber looked towards the table where Dash and his buddies sat. They were laughing uproariously at something one of them had said. Most of the jocks were meatheads and terribly stupid, Travis Elton being Dash’s right-hand man. Of course, Dash himself wasn’t stupid. He was as manipulative and cunning as his girlfriend, Sophia Martin. Dash’s eyes flicked over to Sophia and it was then that I knew what was happening. Dash was in on whatever Sophia had planned.

Normally, I’d stay out of these things. Amber brought it upon herself. But I hated the popular kids so much that foiling their plan was appealing, too. So before Amber could grab the note, I slipped between her and Sophia and snatched the note up. The look Sophia gave me was one that would kill me, if looks could really kill. I just smiled back at her, note clutched firmly in my hand.

“Don’t worry Amber,” I said, “I’ll give it to him for you.” Amber turned bright red, the splotches showing up beneath her bad make-up job. The girl needed a stronger friend base if she wanted to join these backstabbing bitches. They would turn on anyone, even their own friends.

Now, the entire cafeteria had gone quiet. Even the jock table. They all looked up at me, smirks adorning their meathead faces. The closer I got to the table, the less I could breathe. Not because of nerves, but because, god, did these guys bathe in their aftershave? Holy shit. But showing no emotions was something I prided myself on perfecting so I put on a mask of indifference and approached their table. A few of the more obnoxious boys whistled catcalls that echoed around the pin-drop quiet cafeteria. I swear, even the teachers were anticipating what would happen. None of them really liked me, so they were probably hoping I’d be publicly humiliated. Some faculty.

I extended my hand out to Dash. “I think this is yours,” I said, meeting his eye. He stood up and leaned across the table, steadily meeting my gaze. Our fingers brushed when he grabbed the note. He unfolded it and read it quickly, his eyebrows rising higher with every line. Everyone held their breath. But he folded it back up and went to put it in his pocket. But then Travis jumped up and grabbed it. He got up on the table and cleared his throat.

“‘Dearest Dash,’” he read loudly. “‘I’ve watched you from afar for years now and I’m afraid I can’t keep my feelings to myself anymore. My heart burns for you and I dream of you putting your hands on my thighs, sliding them up ever so gently and caressing my’ – ” He couldn’t finish because of how hard he was laughing. I looked over at Amber who was bright red, with eyes watering. And that’s when I knew that the note had really been written by her. Somehow Sophia had gotten a hold of it. Amber hadn’t even known that’s what the note had been, her note. She would have been delivering her own fate.

Amber turned to run from the room but she was unsteady on her heels and the floor was wet. She fell within five steps. It was a loud sound, which only made everyone laugh harder. She struggled to get her heels off, all the while enduring the humiliating sounds of laughter. Eventually, she gave up and sat there, hands covering her face while she cried. A few teachers moved to go towards her, but everyone was in the way and it was slow going.

Travis jumped off the table, laughing. Dash sat in his chair, smiling smugly. Sophia was wearing the same look. I couldn’t very well get to Dash and Sophia was too far away so I thought I’d go to the source. Travis was in front of me and it was his fault the whole thing had gone public, so I curled my hand into a fist, thumb on the outside like my dad had taught me. Throw your whole body into it, Kinley.

He didn’t see it coming.

My fist connected with his face with enough force to send him stumbling back. In all the times I’d practiced, never had it hurt this much before. Faces were a lot harder than punching bags.

“Bitch!” Travis spat, spitting bloody saliva onto the floor. A few people had heard the new commotion and turned around. Soon, the laughter ended and everyone was chanting, “Fight! Fight! Fight!” Travis glanced around warily. If he hit me, he’d been known as the guy who hit a girl. If he didn’t, then he’d be known as the girl who got beat up by a girl.

Apparently being macho was much more important to him because he took a swing at me. I moved so it missed but the ground was slippery and this time, my reflexes couldn’t save me. My chin hit a table as I went down, my teeth sinking into the soft flesh of my lips. The metallic taste of blood spread quickly and even though Travis had missed, to the outsider, it looked like he’d actually hit me. The split lip didn’t help my case and I knew Travis wasn’t going to set things straight. He was gloating when I got up and I readied myself for another punch but strong arms wrapped around my body, securing my arms against my sides. My feet were lifted off the ground and I put up a struggle. But whoever had a hold of me didn’t care. And he was too strong for me to fight off. I struggled anyway, even though it was fruitless.