NOVEMBER AND DANA SAT TOGETHER IN the back of the cafeteria, each sipping a box of the fruit juice that the school had installed in the vending machines to replace the sodas the kids preferred.
Dana rummaged through her large leather Louis Vuitton knockoff bag she’d bought on eBay and pulled out her lip gloss. November glanced at her friend’s lavender leather vest with matching boots. She felt like a cow in her University of Kentucky sweatshirt and faded jeans.
“You talk to Arielle lately?” Dana asked.
November shook her head. “Not much. Seems like she’s changed since she broke up with Jericho. She started hanging with Logan, and all of a sudden she’s got this major attitude.”
“Logan makes me itch. He comes across as slimy or something.”
“I hear ya.” November nibbled on a carrot stick and thought about what Olivia had told her about Logan. “It was fun last fall when me and you and Arielle would sit together every day at lunch and just dominate.”
“Sharing shoes!”
“And clothes!”
“And gossip!”
“But never boyfriends!” November added. Both girls laughed.
“Dudes trippin’ all over their shoelaces just to talk to us,” Dana said with a smirk. “And the rest of the girls be hatin’ because of it!”
“Well, they don’t have to worry about me anymore. I can’t believe how fast I’m gaining weight. I feel like a whale.”
“You’re still skinny. Wait a couple of months, then I’ll listen to your whale tales,” Dana said.
November sighed. “I gotta remember not to stand too close to Miss Size Two Arielle. Not that she stops to give me the time of day anymore. It’s like she changed the station and moved to a different TV channel.”
“Tell me about it. When I pass her in the hall, she acts like she doesn’t know me. You know, to be perfectly honest, I don’t think her elevator went too deep underground anyway. You know what I’m sayin’?” said Dana as she sucked down the rest of her drink.
“That’s my girl Arielle. Fluttering around like a little butterfly to whatever makes her look good,” November said decidedly.
“She hurt Jericho real bad.” Dana squashed her juice box.
“Yeah, I know I felt bad enough when Josh died. But Jericho and Josh were tight like brothers. He needed his girl to be there for him.”
“And she dissed him. Like somebody steppin’ on a roach.”
November nodded. “She’ll get what’s coming to her one day.”
“Maybe not. Girls like Arielle always get over,” Dana said with a shrug. “So, have you thought any more about what you’re going to do?”
It was November’s turn to shrug. “I don’t know. Get fat. Get talked about. Get a job, I guess. I just hope I can graduate next year with the rest of you.” She scraped at the red fingernail polish on her thumb.
“You seem to have a handle on things, sort of.”
“Not hardly! My life is one huge, red-glowing question mark sitting in front of me like a neon sign. What am I supposed to do with a baby?”
“I feel for you, girl. I’ve got your back, but I gotta tell you—I’m glad it’s not me.”
“You know, it’s like I’ve lost control of my whole body. One minute I’m laughing like a crazy bird, not even aware I’m peeing in my pants, and the next minute I’m on my knees in tears. So is my mother, and she’s not even pregnant!”
Dana hesitated. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Did you ever think about, you know, like, getting rid of the baby?”
November scraped the polish off another nail before she answered. “When I first figured out I’d got myself knocked up, I gotta admit, the thought crossed my mind. I was stupid scared, and I’d never felt so alone in my life. I got to thinking maybe I could just delete this mess-up in my life like I delete a computer file. It sure woulda made everything easier.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Well, I was terrified of going to one of those places where protesters picket out front with pictures of dead babies on posters. And the thought of somebody digging inside my body to scrape a human being out scared me even more. I just couldn’t do it.” She blew the fragments of red polish onto the floor.
Dana started to answer, but the rattle of a food tray crashing to the floor, a huge thud, and someone screaming, “Quit it!” caught her attention. Sudden silence followed in the noisy lunchroom.
Only one teacher was monitoring the cafeteria—a short, thin, first-year teacher named Mr. Price, who seemed to be scared of the kids. Once they’d all figured that out, it was over. Kofi and Jericho used to run up behind him and shout, “Hey, Mr. Price! Hey, Mr. Price!” The little man would jump every single time. They all predicted he wouldn’t be back next year.
November watched Mr. Price scurry out of the lunchroom, and then she and Dana rushed to the far side of the cafeteria. Arielle and Logan were there, laughing and pointing at Olivia Thigpen, who sat in the middle of the floor. The school lunch special, which today had been spaghetti and meatballs, decorated her hair. A few students started to join in the laughter but stopped when they saw Dana stomping toward them, and the fire in November’s eyes.
November marched over to where Olivia sat and reached out to help her up, but Olivia shook her off.
“I got this under control,” she said, her voice tight.
“You ought to try to keep that waistline under control,” Arielle snipped, hands on hips.
“What are you doing, Arielle?” Dana asked her furiously. “Are you crazy? Leave her alone!”
“Logan told me all about her—the tramp!” Arielle replied angrily.
November glanced over at Arielle with amazement. Could Arielle actually be jealous of Olivia?
Finally Olivia stood up with amazing dignity, even though chocolate milk ran down her arms and spaghetti sauce dripped down the back of her red-striped T-shirt. “I can fight my own battles, Dana,” she said with quiet menace.
Arielle scooted over to Logan. “I’m not scared of a pigpen like you,” she told Olivia. “If you weren’t so big and clumsy, you wouldn’t have spilled your food.”
Olivia took a deep breath and stepped toward Arielle, who seemed to shrink as Olivia got closer. Olivia was like an approaching electrical storm—thunder and lightning and extreme danger. November figured she had a hundred pounds on Arielle. No one spoke.
Olivia stopped only when her face was inches away from Arielle’s. As her face grew darker with fury, Arielle’s grew paler. Then she spoke, loudly and clearly. “I’m here to warn you. I never forget anything! Never. For now, just run, little salt shaker, run! Because if I hit you, I swear I will hurt you.”
Arielle ran. She grabbed Logan’s hand and darted out a side door.
Everybody in the cafeteria cheered as they left. November looked at Olivia with new respect. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Olivia gathered her belongings and answered, “Just leave me alone.” She stormed out the cafeteria door and onto the sidewalk.
“Should we go after her?” Dana asked.
“No. Leave her some dignity.”
“I can’t believe Arielle did that,” said Dana with disbelief.
“She was dizzy before, but not mean. Logan sure brings out the worst in her.”
By that time Mr. Price, who had first peeked in the door to make sure all was quiet, walked over to the area where bits of brown milk and red sauce remained on the floor. “Anybody see what happened?” he asked.
“Yeah, I saw it,” a boy replied. “One of the little ninth-grade boys spilled his lunch.”
“That’s right, man. Clumsy little kids,” another girl added.
Mr. Price looked down at the food, then directed his question to November and Dana. “Was there a problem here, girls?”
“No, sir,” they answered together.
“I think the boy ran into the bathroom over there,” November told the teacher.
Mr. Price seemed to be relieved that he didn’t have to deal with a major altercation. He thanked November and hurried out into the hall to find the boy who would not be there.