Triggered Read Online Free PDF Page A

tongue out the side of his mouth and everything. “Later, Mick.” She puts down her tray, tucks her hair behind her ear and watches him go. She’s wearing little gold hoops. “How he knows my name?”
    Because I’m an idiot and told him about you even though I know he’s got a big mouth . I don’t say that.
    I move a chicken nugget around my plate with my fork. “Everyone knows you. You’re the new girl.”
    â€œAh!” She bats her eyelashes. “I am starlet?”
    That makes me laugh. Where would Dalma pick up a word like starlet ? It’s something my great-aunt would say.
    â€œWould you like to go to a movie with me tonight?” I don’t know where that came from, either.
    She pulls back, eyes wide. “Me?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd you?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œTo movie?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOkay,” she says, then laughs. She takes a big bite of salad. Her whole face keeps smiling, even while she chews. She doesn’t seem afraid of anything.
    Some dressing dribbles down her chin.
    I point at it. She looks behind her, then shrugs. “I see nothing.”
    â€œI mean, your chin,” I say.
    She squints one eye at me suspiciously. “How I can see my chin?”
    This doesn’t need to be so complicated.
    I take my napkin, reach across the table and wipe the dressing off her face.
    In the process, I leave behind a smear of honey-garlic dipping sauce. I probably should have used a clean napkin.
    For some reason, this strikes me as hilarious. I cover my mouth and laugh really hard.
    Dalma goes, “What? What?”
    She’s laughing too, but still, I shouldn’t leave her like that. I pound on my chest until I can pull myself together, then pick up an unused napkin, dip it in my water and try again. She scrunches up her face the way Gavin would if I was doing it to him.
    â€œMy mother. She do this.” Dalma pretends to spit into her hand, then rubs it back and forth in the air.
    â€œSame here.” We both go, “Ew.”
    â€œLook,” Dalma says. “Your friend.”
    She waves. I turn and see Jade coming toward us. She usually has late lunch on Thursdays. I lift my hand. It’s not quite a wave.
    â€œChicken nuggets.” Jade nudges me with her elbow, then slides into the chair next to me. “I should have known.” She looks at Dalma. “He can’t resist them.”
    I don’t think Dalma knows the word resist , but she smiles anyway.
    Jade peels open her tub of no-fat yogurt. She scrapes tiny little blobs off the foil lid, then puts the spoon upside down on her tongue. It’s not the most efficient way to eat. The whole time, she’s talking to Dalma about the Newcomers Club, her tutor, the dress she’s wearing to the spring dance and Kevin Peters. I have no idea why she’s talking about Kevin. I didn’t even think she knew him that well. I’m positive Dalma doesn’t know him at all. I nod and say stuff like “Oh yeah?” and “No kidding,” but basically I’m out of the conversation.
    The bell goes. We take our trays and dump the leftovers in the bins on the way out. Jade’s only eaten about two tablespoons of yogurt.
    â€œShouldn’t you finish that?” I say. “You’ll get hungry.” By which I mean “even skinnier.” It’s none of my business, but I’m seriously considering calling her mother about how much weight she’s lost. I wonder if she’s anorexic.
    Jade looks at Dalma. “He always worries about me. It’s so cute.” She gives my arm a little slap.
    We head down the hall. It’s really noisy. People are slamming lockers shut, bombing between classes, screaming at each other about stuff. Rory Steinberg jumps off the landing and practically knocks Kyle Dodds over. That’s not as funny as he thinks it’s going to be.
    It must be hard for Dalma to