My Name Is Margaret Grace
One.
The stares are apparent from across the room as I travel smoothly over to the cafeteria line. It's not often that I do come to school, let alone stay for lunch. Today, though, is a unique day for myself. It was merely a simple six days since I had been given the bad news and told of my condition. I swear, it is as if everyone around can hear my thoughts. I certainly had not told a soul about it. Who would I tell? I have no friends to speak of, and no one who would bother listening.
My hair is thrown loosely over my shoulders in a form of a shield to block me from the prying eyes of my classmates, their snickers completely going out the window. Never in my life have I ever allowed the thoughts of others affect who I am, or how I feel about something. This is my life and I will not live it for anyone other than myself.
I step in line behind Beatrice, a girl with orange hair and an odd smell to her. I plug my nose obviously, listening to the girl behind me laugh and causing Beatrice to step out of the line and walk off. Smiling, I take a lunch tray, pay my three dollars and fifty cents for a salad and croutons, and make my way to a table in the distance.
I am not sitting there long before Eli comes and sits across from me. His dark hair is haunting in a way that only certain women understand. He's chewing on a carrot with a large grin on his face.
"Hey, Marge." I refuse to humor him, taking a small bite of my salad. "I've heard a lot of rumors about you lately."
"Really?" It's a simple question which comes with a roll of my eyes. "What's on today's agenda of 'Margaret Grace Stabs'?"
"Freddy Jones says you're pregnant. Lisa Wilcox says you're dying, and Tom Johnson says you have some incurable disease."
I snicker slightly. Only Tom Johnson could peg the nail right on the head after taking numerous tackles to the head. Licking my lips, I reach up to my head and push my hair behind my left ear. I cock an eyebrow upward, looking up and deep into Eli's eyes.
"Which do you believe?"
"Not a single one," he says, completely truthful. That's always been what I've admired most about Eli. We do not know each other that well, but he's always been behind me as if he's my number one fan or something of the sort.
"Thanks Eli for the comfort of knowing you have my back, but I really do need to go." I push my salad toward him so that he can pick at it, standing and retrieving my materials.
"Will you be here tomorrow?" He questions me as I prepare to leave.
"Um, more than likely not. I have a photo-call first thing in the morning and then I think I am going to go out with Joseph."
I already knew Eli had some form of feelings for me, but every time he flinches when I bring up Joseph, it reminds me. I give him a simple wave before leaving out of the cafeteria, the stares following me out as they had followed me in.
My Jeep is parked a few feet from the door and sliding into it became easy with time. Comfort sets in every time I get into my car from this place. You'd think I'd know that I wouldn't want to be here and would stop coming, but something about leaving this place for good frightens me.
I back out of the parking spot with ease and leave the campus, dialing my cell phone in my other hand as I do so. Joseph is my first speed dial and he picks up on the third ring. I ask him of where he is at and find myself stunned with his reply. He doesn't want to see me anymore. He tells me to look at the news and I will know why.
Pulling the Jeep over onto the side of the road, I park. My heart beats rapidly as I find the webpage and begin to scroll down it. There in headlines happens to be what I assumed would be my deepest, darkest secret for the remainder of my life. No, though-- there, in bold letters is the consequence for my promiscuity. There, in those bold letters is the truth of what my life has become.
My hair is thrown loosely over my shoulders in a form of a shield to block me from the prying eyes of my classmates, their snickers completely going out the window. Never in my life have I ever allowed the thoughts of others affect who I am, or how I feel about something. This is my life and I will not live it for anyone other than myself.
I step in line behind Beatrice, a girl with orange hair and an odd smell to her. I plug my nose obviously, listening to the girl behind me laugh and causing Beatrice to step out of the line and walk off. Smiling, I take a lunch tray, pay my three dollars and fifty cents for a salad and croutons, and make my way to a table in the distance.
I am not sitting there long before Eli comes and sits across from me. His dark hair is haunting in a way that only certain women understand. He's chewing on a carrot with a large grin on his face.
"Hey, Marge." I refuse to humor him, taking a small bite of my salad. "I've heard a lot of rumors about you lately."
"Really?" It's a simple question which comes with a roll of my eyes. "What's on today's agenda of 'Margaret Grace Stabs'?"
"Freddy Jones says you're pregnant. Lisa Wilcox says you're dying, and Tom Johnson says you have some incurable disease."
I snicker slightly. Only Tom Johnson could peg the nail right on the head after taking numerous tackles to the head. Licking my lips, I reach up to my head and push my hair behind my left ear. I cock an eyebrow upward, looking up and deep into Eli's eyes.
"Which do you believe?"
"Not a single one," he says, completely truthful. That's always been what I've admired most about Eli. We do not know each other that well, but he's always been behind me as if he's my number one fan or something of the sort.
"Thanks Eli for the comfort of knowing you have my back, but I really do need to go." I push my salad toward him so that he can pick at it, standing and retrieving my materials.
"Will you be here tomorrow?" He questions me as I prepare to leave.
"Um, more than likely not. I have a photo-call first thing in the morning and then I think I am going to go out with Joseph."
I already knew Eli had some form of feelings for me, but every time he flinches when I bring up Joseph, it reminds me. I give him a simple wave before leaving out of the cafeteria, the stares following me out as they had followed me in.
My Jeep is parked a few feet from the door and sliding into it became easy with time. Comfort sets in every time I get into my car from this place. You'd think I'd know that I wouldn't want to be here and would stop coming, but something about leaving this place for good frightens me.
I back out of the parking spot with ease and leave the campus, dialing my cell phone in my other hand as I do so. Joseph is my first speed dial and he picks up on the third ring. I ask him of where he is at and find myself stunned with his reply. He doesn't want to see me anymore. He tells me to look at the news and I will know why.
Pulling the Jeep over onto the side of the road, I park. My heart beats rapidly as I find the webpage and begin to scroll down it. There in headlines happens to be what I assumed would be my deepest, darkest secret for the remainder of my life. No, though-- there, in bold letters is the consequence for my promiscuity. There, in those bold letters is the truth of what my life has become.