I’m grateful I have some sort of place, any sort of situation that does not involve a massive panic attack. Now Ollie and I can pretend not to know each other at lunch, like normal siblings do.
And it’s just lunch. It doesn’t mean we have to be friends. It’ll be great.
* * *
It’s not great.
I’m the seventh seat at a six-person table, which is uncomfortable in an infinite number of ways.
In dropping my fork on the floor and awkwardly trying to decide if I should squeeze out and maneuver my way back to the cutlery station or say Screw it, I didn’t want my salad anyway.
In being wedged between Molly and Nash.
In brushing shoulders with Nash multiple times—and feeling like all my secrets are going to spill out of my soul every time I do.
In checking and rechecking that I’ve silenced my cell, just in case Nash sends a DM to Kels.
In everyone talking all at once, but being unable to access any of the conversation.
“… having Weisner for English blows …”
“… dude, yeah, I have McAlister and she’s amazing. Her book list is exclusively women and people of color …”
“… I didn’t think it was possible to screw up cheese pizza, yet here we are …”
“… Sawyer, if you make a that’s sexist against men comment I’m breaking up with you …”
“… right? It’s so bad …”
“… If you have that little faith in me, maybe I should break up with you …”
“… I actually think it’s pretty good …”
My eyes flicker in circles, my eardrums bounce from conversation to conversation, attempting to piece together the web of relationships. Nash. Molly. Sawyer. Autumn. Taylor. Beth.
Nash + Molly = BFFs
Molly + Sawyer =
Sawyer + Nash = Bros
Autumn = Molly’s other BFF
Taylor + Beth = Autumn’s theater friends. Not Le Crew, but clearly lunch regulars—unlike me.
Overwhelmed by my total inability to naturally insert myself into the conversation, I look down at my phone. It’s the only place I never feel out of place. The home screen displays a string of texts from Amy.
Amy Chen
Happy LAST first day of high school, Kels + Elle!!
12:05 PM
Amy Chen
And happy FIRST first day of high school Samira, our freshman child!!
12:06 PM
I lock the screen. I can’t even respond to the string of texts from my friends, because Nash is here. Next to me. He knows my friends. They’re his friends too.
“So what is your thing, Hal-lee Levitt?” Sawyer asks.
My eyes snap up to meet Sawyer’s. “Huh?”
Could I be any more eloquent?
Sawyer Davidson is Molly’s other half. We met this morning in AP psych, when I took the seat Nash had gestured to behind him. I’m not the new kid anymore, Sawyer had said. I laughed and I don’t remember what I said because between the wavy blonde hair and ocean-gray eyes, I was too busy thinking Damn, Molly Good job.
“You know? Your jam.”
“Like how sometimes Sawyer speaks in syllables,” Molly says.
“And says ‘jam,’ ” Autumn adds.
Sawyer rolls his eyes.
“Um,” I stutter. Six people, twelve eyes. All on me. “I like books?”
Great. Where’s the instant lie impulse when I actually need it? I should’ve made up some sort of fake hobby. Or said literally anything other than “I like books.”
Because of course Nash says, “Me too.”
“Nash likes comic books,” Taylor says.
“Graphic novels,” Nash clarifies, since I, Halle, am not supposed to know that.
Heat creeps up my neck when Nash looks at me. “It’s an underappreciated genre, honestly. I, um, kind of blog about it. I’m trying to make graphic novels mainstream, one review at a time.”
“Nash, don’t be modest,” Autumn says, dipping a potato chip in ketchup and popping it in her mouth. She swallows, then looks at me. “He writes and draws too. They’re good—I’ve already called dibs on the option.”
I would’ve known Autumn Williams was a director even if Nash hadn’t already told Kels that she’s destined to be the next Ava DuVernay. Her mostly black, trying-without-trying aesthetic screams film school. Her braided black hair is tied back into a ponytail and she carries around a little black notebook, where she jots down what she calls moments to remember, all through lunch. From what Nash has told me, USC is her dream, but for now she has A_Williams Films, a Vimeo account where she posts short films that are the epitome of black girl magic.
“They’re okay,” Nash says.
“Shut up, they’re so good,” Molly says.
It’s the second time today I almost say I know.
“He posts them online,” Autumn says.
“Autumn,” Nash says, his cheeks flush pink.
“www.outsidethelines.com/rex,” Sawyer chimes in.
Nash is full-blown red, but it’s adorable the way they’re hyping him up, like retweets in real time.
REX, Nash’s weekly web comic, is about two dinosaur brothers—Terry and Rex—exploring the modern world. At the end of the first series, they are separated and it is devastating. The second installment is from the POV of the younger dinosaur, Rex, searching desperately for his brother. It’s action-packed and adorable and heartbreaking all at once.
Online, Nash shouts about REX to his thousands of Outside the Lines subscribers. He’s always posting links, constantly liking tweets, and retweeting reviews.
IRL, he’s shy about it. It’s really cute.
I cannot think Nash is cute. Amy and Elle would go insane if they knew that thought even crossed my mind.
Nobody understands not wanting to talk about something more than I do, so I attempt to steer the conversation away from REX. Half for Nash’s sake, half for my own. But when I do I say, “Maus kind of changed my life.”
“Seriously?” Nash says. “Me too!”
His smile is grateful—not at all suspicious—but that doesn’t stop my heart palpitations and sweaty palms. Luckily, the bell rings and I take the opportunity to pretend I’ve left something in my locker and bolt.
I don’t know what I was thinking. I am the worst in group settings. I never know what to say, or the right questions to ask, or how to apply a face that reads approachable, I promise. It’s somehow always surprising if and when I’m directly addressed. It absolutely would’ve been better to sit with a different group, where even if it was uncomfortable, at least there were no stakes. No I like books and mentioning things I know he likes. I’m not supposed to know what he likes!
The whole point of not telling him is to protect our friendship because I won’t live up to Kels—and every awkward thing that’s happened today just proves me right.
REX: Series 1, Issue #24
FIVE
Friday is a cupcake day.
A reward for making it through my first week at MHS in one piece. There’s flour in my hair, the electric mixer is plugged in, and I feel unstoppable.