And So It Goes by Judy Colella (books for 9th graders .TXT) 📖

past the array of poisonous offerings.

“That’s not much of a lunch,” she mumbled, snagging a sizable mound of the golden crunchy stuff with huge tongs and dumping them on a platter. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like a burger or hot dog with that?”

“Nope. I’ll get a salad.” Those were pre-made and covered in plastic at the far end of the line.

“Here you go, then.” She handed the platter to me over the top of the glass counter and I zoomed off.

Hardly anyone got the salad, so there were plenty still there. I snagged a couple of dressing packets, a bottle of water, an apple, and went to the register.

“You always get fries,” said Gina when I joined her a few minutes later.

“That’s because I don’t want to die on school grounds.”

The forkful of whatever that Italian/Oriental stuff was, paused on its way to her mouth. “Gee, thanks, Shasta.”

I shrugged, picked up a fry, and took a bite. “I’m sure that won’t kill you as fast as some of the other crap they have today.” I pointed at her plate. Smile.

“No, but…whatevs.” The food finished its journey.

You know, Gina might be my best friend, but the word “whatevs” is one that belongs in the same category as the name Armand Klees, and I was this close to hurling a fry at her.

“Hey, guys.”

We looked up at the girl who was standing behind the empty chair next to mine. “Hey, Emma.” That was me addressing her. Gina’s mouth was full.

“Mind if I sit with you?”

I frowned. “Why would I mind? And where’s your food?”

“Finished it. I hope it doesn’t give me food poisoning.” She pulled out the chair and sat, making a face.

“For real. That’s why Shasta always gets fries.” Gina giggled. I have no idea why.

“Don’t forget the salad and fruit.” For some reason I felt the need to defend my food choices, even though it was clear that Emma felt the same way about the stuff.

“Hey, I hear Jacob really likes you.”

Why was Emma sitting with us? Who was this Emma person? Besides Gina, I did have about one other sorta-friend, and her name happened to be Emma. That Emma would never have said something as insane as this Emma had.

“Shasta?”

“Emma? Or whoever you really are…”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” I unwrapped my salad, feeling a wave of depression heading in my general direction.

“For real – Lacy even said so, but I think she was pissed.”

“Do you?” That’s what I was trying to say, but with a bunch of lettuce shoving my words around it came out as “Mmm-mrrr?”

“Of course.”

That’s when I realize this had to be Emma; she’s the only person I’ve ever met who could understand people when they talked with their mouths full. Bet her mom loved that one!

I swallowed and grinned. “Hey, it is you! But how did this insane conversation about Jacob even happen? I doubt he was talking about liking me right in front of Lacy.”

“He was, in fact.”

I was about to question this, when Gina suddenly gagged on her soda, spraying some of it on Emma, and pointed at something behind me. I heard approaching footsteps that couldn’t possibly be someone in stiletto heels, and then felt someone standing behind my chair.

“He’s standing behind my chair, isn’t he,” I murmured to Emma. Didn’t even say it out of the side of my mouth. Learning moment here, Gina…

“Shasta.”

“Jacob.” Craptastic.

“Would you please look at me?”

That did it. I was going to do more than look at this muscle-bound pest. Pushing my chair back, I got up and turned, wishing the forks were metal, and stared up at his frown. This had to stop. I began to let him know exactly how I felt about all the attention he’d been paying me, but never got the chance.

Before I could speak or react, he’d grabbed me by the shoulders, pulled me closer, bent down, and kissed me. Hard. Then not so hard. Then soft and…shut up.

 

*******

 

Epic? More like apocalyptic. Far from feeling like a femme fatale (look it up), I felt more like a femme fatality. Lacy’s words about me being dead had probably been prophetic. And why? Because I flat-out hated Jacob, he was freaking kissing me in front of the whole cafeteria, and I was enjoying it. Or more than I would enjoy kissing my own fist. Not good. Not even comprehensible.

After a few seconds of this weirdness, I had almost convinced myself that I was still asleep and having a horrifying nightmare. But why, one of my less-lame brain cells argued, if I was dreaming that Jacob was kissing me, would I find myself feeling like certain parts of my anatomy were melting and catching fire at the same time? In a nice way. Good God, what was wrong with me?!

I pushed him away, gasping, my eyes doing what I felt sure was an amazing lemur imitation, and took a step back. Just one, though, because another step would have caused me to fall backwards over my chair, and things were already bad enough at the moment.

Jacob, meanwhile, was staring back, but he didn’t look, oh, I don’t know, smug or pleased with himself. I only say this because that’s what I was expecting. But no. Instead, he resembled Puss In Boots in that “Shrek” scene when he was holding his hat under his chin, pleading with the ogre for something…I forget what. Despite all the strangeness and mortification, I couldn’t help but realize that the cafeteria, normally a noisy place even when it was empty, was dead quiet. I decided that whatever was said next would have to be perfect. Memorable. Something quotable, a phrase that would grace the walls of the girl’s room for generations to come.

“I’m dead.” Okay, not what I was hoping for, but I figured Lacy was going to say it anyway, so I beat her to it. But wait – a post-script was needed, so I added it. “So are you, Jacob. I can’t believe you just did that!”

“But – ”

“I should strangle you with my overalls shoulder-strap!”

“I only – ”

I put up a hand, palm outward. “No. Not another word.”

“B…”

“Sshh!”

“Shas…”

“Ip!”

Silence. I took a long, deep breath and turned my back on him, planning to sit down and finish my lunch as if nothing odd had happened.

“I thought you enjoyed that.” The words had been whispered, his tone reminding me of a mortally wounded soldier speaking his final words to a war buddy.

Closing my eyes, I whispered back, “I did, you creep.” I wanted to use a stronger word, but suspected there might be a teacher somewhere in the vicinity, and the school had a strict policy about using profanity, assuming you got caught.

What a day. Would anyone mind if I sat down and face-planted in my salad bowl?

Jacob walked away. Something told me it wasn’t because he’d given up or was disappointed. Quite the opposite, I think. In fact, if I had a million bucks, I’d bet the whole thing that he was looking smug as he sauntered off. Now I had only to wait for Lacey to enter from stage left and whang me over the head with her purse.

“Shasta! Holy sh…cow! I can’t believe what just happened!”

I nodded and sat. I stabbed several pieces of lettuce and a slice of tomato. I shoved the mess into my face. Chewed. Swallowed. Took a sip of water and picked up my apple. “So, how have you been, Emma?”

Across the table, Gina’s mouth dropped open so wide, I expected her jaw to unhinge.

Emma cleared her throat. “Er, good. Yeah. Been good. You?”

“Fine.” I waved a hand. “Aside from some surreal moments here and there.”

Around us, I could hear that things were sliding back into place – the conversations weren’t as loud as one might expect, but there you go.

“He kissed you, and all you do is eat your lunch and make small-talk?”

I gave Gina a smile. “Yes, bestie. That’s all I do.” I hate the word “bestie,” too, but the situation seemed to call for it.

“Incredible.”

“I agree. And if you mention it again, I’ll throw you out the bus window on the way home.” Big swig of water.

“Er, yeah, I gotta go, you guys.” Emma got up, pushed her chair in, and left without another word. Don’t blame her.

A second later, the chair was pulled out again, but not by a returning Emma.

“You mind telling me why you let him do that?”

I turned. “Mind telling me why you let him do that, Lacy?”

“What?”

“I didn’t ask for that. In fact, like I told you, I can’t stand him, so I certainly didn’t expect him to assault me!”

“Assault? Ha! Only for the first two seconds! After that, it looked to me like you were, like, totally enjoying it!”

I had been, but wasn’t going to admit it. Or maybe I was. Huh. Honesty is a cool thing if you use it right. “Of course I was – I’m human, female, and have hormones. That doesn’t mean I suddenly like him, Lacy. Gimme a break, okay? You can’t tell me that if some guy who was big and…attractive…and…suddenly grabbed you and gave you a huge kiss on the mouth you wouldn’t start enjoying it after a few seconds, too. I know you would, and so do you. But then you’d probably report him for sexual harassment, even if he was the best-looking, hottest guy you’d ever seen.”

Lacy shook her head. “I can’t believe this. Is that what you think of Jacob? That he’s the best-looking, hottest guy you’ve ever seen?”

Eye-roll. “Dude. For real? No. I’ve never thought that, and I doubt I ever will.” The song, “Liar, liar, pants on fire” jumped out at me and went, “Boo!”

“Huh. Well…you know, the only reason I don’t have you beaten up is because he started it, and because you got mad at him for it.”

“Which reminds me of my initial question: why did you let him? I mean, how the heck did this even happen? He was sitting with you and your group of, of, whatever they are, one minute, and the next, he’s over here pretending to be Don Juan.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. Some guy in a book who went around making out with everything in a dress.” Now that would make a sure-to-fail book report!

“You know what?”

“What?” I stifled a yawn. Boring chick.

“If you weren’t such a freak, I’d probably like you.” And with that salvo, Lacy removed her perky butt from the chair and flounced off. Yes, we’re up to flouncing now.

“Are you finished eating?” Gina had gotten up, too, and picked up her tray.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ll have my apple later.” Or maybe I’ll save it to throw at Jacob.

Six

 

“How was school?”

“Fine, mom. We learned about our ovaries, blew bubbles at baking soda and vinegar, and the quarterback kissed me in front of the whole cafeteria.”

“That’s lovely.”

She was staring into her boyfriend’s eyes at the moment, oblivious to everything I had said (which I suspected she would be), and told me to go change, that I had to rake the leaves in the back yard.

When I was little, dead leaves were great. Someone else would rake them into big piles and I’d go jump in them. Whee! But now that I was big enough to use the rake without