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Caitlyn
Roland and Caitlyn didn’t have a single class together. It hardly seemed possible, and it wasn’t fair. They did, however, share the same lunch period, though he often sat at the back of the school property, hidden behind an old maple tree. She sat with him once, shortly after they’d met. They’d talked on and on, connecting as if they’d known each other a lifetime. That was before she accidentally leaked one of his secrets to a group of gossipy girls, a terrible rumor spread about his deceased mother, and he stopped talking to her. She’d apologized through tears and he’d forgiven her, he said so anyway, but he’d been shy around her ever since.
Zoe pushed open a door to the back schoolyard and held it for Caitlyn. “It’s chilly.” She zipped her white sweater and sauntered toward the picnic tables. “I don’t get why you want to eat outside every day. What’s wrong with the lunch room? We always eat in the lunch room when it’s cold outside.”
Caitlyn stumbled along behind Zoe, trying to keep up without dropping her lunch. “It’s not that cold. It’s perfect. Besides, don’t you just love the fall? I always want to eat outside in the fall. You always want to eat in the lunch room.”
Zoe glanced over her shoulder and threw Caitlyn a coy grin. “So, why are we doing things your way now? Don’t I always get my way?”
Caitlyn giggled. Zoe did always get her way. Caitlyn had considered herself to be flexible, like a sapling content to bend with the wind. Things were different now.
Zoe said something, but Caitlyn didn’t catch it. Hoping to spot Roland, she peered at the old maple tree.
He didn’t appear to be out there today. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t gone out there on lunch period since his brother Keefe left for Italy. Caitlyn scanned the school grounds.
Off to the left, kids played basketball. Girls and couples strolled along the building. Smoke traveled from around the corner of the building, the smokers’ hangout. A few kids sat at picnic tables. Where was Roland?
“I can’t believe I agreed to go,” Zoe said. “Do you think I’ll regret it? You know how I love my Keurig and taking a bath in lavender oil.”
Caitlyn skipped a few steps to catch up. “Go where?”
She looked at her, smirking. “You aren’t listening to me at all.”
They neared the picnic tables. “Sure I am. What’d you say?”
Zoe laughed and sat at the only picnic table not littered with acorns and leaves. “I was talking about camping. I can’t believe I agreed to go on this silly camping trip of yours.”
“Silly? It’s not silly. It’s fun. You’ll love it. It’ll be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.” Caitlyn couldn’t wait. Peter had said Roland was going, so she would have an opportunity to hang out with him without having to worry about courtship practices.
“So who are you scouting for?”
“What?” Caitlyn walked around the picnic table and sat across from Zoe, immediately opening her lunch. Her stomach had growled all through Algebra class, and she couldn’t wait to get something into it. “What makes you think I’m scouting for anyone?”
“I know you’re looking for someone.” Zoe turned suspicious eyes to Caitlyn. “Who is it? A guy?” She opened her insulated, designer lunch bag, that looked more like a purse, and pulled out a container with a pink lid.
Caitlyn grabbed a sandwich wrapped in newspaper from her brown paper bag. Mom had run out of sandwich bags, but Caitlyn was too hungry to let it embarrass her. “I wish you didn’t know me so well. How’s a girl to keep a secret?”
“You can’t keep secrets from your BFF.” Zoe’s honey-colored eyes sparkled in the sunlight.
“Fine. You’re right.” Caitlyn meant to admit whom she was looking for, but she couldn’t stop shoving her sandwich into her mouth. The turkey roll and Swiss on Italian bread with mayonnaise and pickle tasted so good today. Besides, she hated to tell Zoe whom she liked. It was laughable that she hoped someone as hot as Roland would be interested in her.
Zoe grabbed Caitlyn’s lunch bag. “Tell me or I’m eating your lunch.”
Caitlyn laughed. Zoe only ate healthy food. She would die before eating what she’d find in the bag: chips, cookies, and a Twinkie. “Okay, I’ll tell you. But you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“You know I won’t tell. We’re best friends.”
They stared at each other for a moment.
“Okay, I promise.” Zoe tossed the lunch bag to Caitlyn.
“Do you know Roland West?”
A smile spread across her face. “I know him. He’s in most of my classes.”
Caitlyn huffed. It figured.
“You like him?” Zoe leaned across the picnic table, smiling.
Caitlyn nodded, regretting her confession and wondering if Zoe was about to laugh at her. “Out of my league, huh?” She ripped open her lunch bag, dug out the Twinkie, and wrestled with the wrapper.
Zoe sat straighter and folded her arms, a sly smile on her face. Her gaze clicked to some point behind Caitlyn. She shook her head. “No, he’s not out of your league . . . Is he Goth?”
“Goth? No, he’s not Goth.” Despite herself, she instantly felt defensive. “He just likes dark colors. It’s not like he wears make-up or has piercings or does strange things to his hair.”
Zoe shrugged. “I swear he was wearing black nail polish last week.” She continued staring at something behind Caitlyn. “He does something to his hair. It’s so full and wavy.”
“That’s just the way his hair is. Some people have naturally wavy hair.” The more Caitlyn talked, the more defensive she knew she sounded and the more her face burned. She really needed to chill. Zoe was entitled to her opinion. “My hair curls naturally.” Caitlyn shoved the Twinkie in her mouth to keep from further defending him.
“Well, if you really like him . . .” Zoe’s eyes shifted to Caitlyn again. “. . . you’d better think of a plan to get his attention.”
“We’re fwends aweady,” Caitlyn said, mouth stuffed.
Zoe cleared her throat and her gaze shifted again to the point behind Caitlyn. “You’re not the only girl attracted to him.”
Caitlyn lost her appetite just like that. She swallowed hard and took a swig of water. “You like him?”
Zoe’s gaze shot to Caitlyn, and she laughed. “No, he’s too shy.”
“Someone else told you they like him?”
“No.”
“Well . . . then how do you know?”
Zoe nodded towards whatever she had been staring at over Caitlyn’s shoulder, so Caitlyn turned to look.
Roland, dressed in black jeans and a black denim jacket, leaned against the smokers’ corner of the school building. Mya Taylor, dressed in a cute plaid skirt and no jacket, leaned next to him.
Second only to Zoe, Mya was the last girl Caitlyn would want for competition. Caitlyn was plain, bone thin, and had a full head of untamed red hair. Her every movement led to an accident or disaster. Mya was a clone of Marilyn Monroe. She idolized the actress, copying her laugh, her hair, her clothing style. Guys fawned over her.
And there she stood, fawning over Roland West.