wallet.”
“She’s G-A-Y, you know,” Margaret said, spelling out the word. Her voice had lowered.
“Then I don’t know if I want her in the locker room with us,” Jasmine said. “It would be...”
I shut my locker a little harder than necessary. “It would be what ? She’s nice. And a decent fencer. Who cares if she’s gay?”
Margaret held up her hands in mock defeat. “Ask her if you want. I don’t have a problem with it. But the boys might pick on her.”
“Not if I can help it,” I said quietly.
At lunch, I found Seth and Trish sitting near the front with some of the track kids and a couple of the football guys and their girlfriends. Trish was eating a salad, laughing at a story being told by one of the big sandy-haired jocks on the other side of the table. Seth ate one of his French fries covered in ketchup, looking on with a bored expression.
“Hey, butthead,” I said, plopping into the seat next to him.
He turned, eyeing my ham-and-cheese sandwich and milk box. “Nice lunch.”
“It’s healthier than a lake of ketchup. What’s up?”
He made a choking sound as the sandy-haired jock told another bad joke about his nether regions. “Save me.”
“Alice!” Trish said, leaning around Seth. She put her arm around him. “Alice, please tell Seth he can never wear this shirt again.”
I looked at his shirt. It was black—of course—with a terrifying image of some kind of mutant deer with multiple mouths staring back at me. “Yikes! What the heck is Mastodon ?”
“It’s a heavy metal band,” Seth said defensively. “An awesome heavy metal band.”
“Can you believe I bought him a forty-dollar button-down shirt before school started and he still hasn’t worn it?” Trish asked with a sour face.
“Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if he burned it,” I said with a smile.
Trish looked put off for a second. Then her face warmed again. “Alice! Alice, this is Ted.” She reached out, grabbing one of the track boys sitting at the table behind us. He nearly fell back, turning and sticking out a foot before he could slip out of his chair. He was a pretty cute guy: blonde spiky hair, narrow jaw, little nose, and a very respectable blue striped shirt with short sleeves to show off his muscles.
“Hi,” he said with a warm smile.
“Hi,” I said.
“You guys should totally go out,” Trish said. “Like, this weekend.”
My eyebrows shot up.
When the bell rang, I held Trish back, giving Ted a polite smile when he waved goodbye before joining his track buddies in the hustle to their next class.
“Careful!” Trish whined. “This is silk.” She nodded to her bright blue shirt. It was cute, with a ruffle trim and front button placket.
“Sorry,” I said, letting go of the soft fabric. “But seriously, what are you doing?”
“I’m getting you back in the game,” Trish said. She shrugged, smiling at a handful of football players walking by. They were all the same: big shoulders, no necks, and short haircuts that made them look especially mean. It seemed as if they had one big closet they all shared, switching out between blue striped shirts, jerseys, and t-shirts with pictures of skulls on them.
Yes I’m being a bit harsh here. No I don’t care.
“I don’t need to get back into the game,” I said.
“Yeah,” Seth piped up. “She’s got way more important things to do.”
I shot him a glare, satisfied when he shrank back a bit. We walked toward the front of the cafeteria, the last to leave.
“Listen,” Trish said in the same voice my mom used to scold me, “you’re quickly losing your popularity. Ditching Edward was tough, I totally understand that, but this is senior year we’re talking about, baby! You need a boyfriend who’s going to keep you in the right groups.”
“Unlike me,” Seth added.
“Awwww!” Trish wrapped her arm in his, giving his hand a squeeze. “You have me. I’m the popular one now. Look.” She stopped us, holding out one