I stop. “I can get to the nurse’s office okay.”
Devon pulls up short. “Oh. Are you sure? Because I don’t mind helping….”
“I’m all right. Thanks, though.”
He gives me a sad smile, not moving from the middle of the hall as I turn my back on him. I feel sort of bad. I know I shouldn’t, since I didn’t do anything wrong, but still—he has to live with Bianca now, and that just sucks.
The good thing about the whole incident is that I get to spend all morning lying on a cot in the nurse’s office. If I had known being knocked on my ass would get me out of Mrs. Davies’s boring lectures and math tests, I would have gotten a head injury a long time ago.
I have a miraculous recovery at lunchtime. I’m in line for some oily cafeteria pizza when I hear someone yell, “Indie!” behind me.
Jessie. Again.
“Hey,” she says. “I heard about your fall. Are you okay?”
I sigh. Who hasn’t heard about my fall? “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”
We inch forward. The hairnetted caf lady raises her eyebrows at me, which is her way of asking what I want.
“Pizza, please.”
She tongs a slice onto a paper plate and slides it over the glass case.
“Same,” Jessie says.
I leave her to pay at the cash register, all the while considering discreet places I can eat my pizza alone, with minimal embarrassment. Someone snags my arm. Lo and behold, it’s Jessie again.
“Hey, you want to eat with me?”
I open my mouth to object, but the hope in her eyes—and okay, the fact that I don’t have anywhere else to go—reminds me so much of Paige that I just nod and follow her.
Jessie sits at the front of the big hall, at what is politely termed the Loser Table. A few months ago, I would rather have eaten razor blades than sit there, but now, looking at all the faces that give me friendly smiles as I sit down, I couldn’t think of anyplace I’d rather sit.
I take a big bite of my pizza, letting the conversation whirl around my head.
A burst of laughter comes from the caf entrance. I look up and see a blob of blue pleats and silver spankies in the form of Bianca, Julia, and half of the cheerleading squad walking in. They’re all screeching with laughter at something Bianca’s said—I can tell by the way she struts, a satisfied smile on her face.
My first instinct is to try to hide as she nears so that she won’t notice me at the Loser table, but the second I have that thought, I feel a twinge of guilt and lift my chin up.
At first I think Bianca isn’t going to notice me, but when her eyes sweep the caf, they land directly on me. She lets out a peal of maniacal laughter, her face radiating pure glee. The rest of the Bitch Brigade follows her line of sight. At least they have the decency to cover their mouths and try to stifle their laughter.
“Just ignore them,” Jessie whispers.
But I can’t. Anger burns up my chest.
“Something funny?” I call over.
The noise sucks out of the caf, and I can hear a person cough from across the room.
“How’s your head?” Bianca asks, giving a small laugh. Chuckles come from the Pretty People table at the back of the room—the table I used to sit at—but otherwise the caf remains completely silent.
“It’s fine,” I say. “I didn’t take you for a linebacker. You should try out for the team.”
Light laughter erupts through the caf, and red blotches sprout up on Bianca’s neck. She clenches her jaw and whips her head around, silencing everyone with a glare. Then she locks her eyes with mine again and levels me with a look of pure hatred.
“You know, people are only being nice to you because they feel bad for you.”
Everyone oohs, and I can’t help the heat that flashes to my cheeks. Of course by “everyone” she means Devon. For a moment I wonder if she’s right, but then I remind myself that I don’t care.
“Well, it’s a good thing that worrying if everyone likes me is no longer my number one priority in life,” I retort. “I don’t care if I’m part of the Pretty People Club anymore.”
“You’re worse than not in the club,” she answers, with enough venom that a chill reaches my bones. “You’re a nobody.”
I don’t want to care, but I can’t help feeling like the words are true. My eyes feel hot with the threat of tears. This can’t be happening.
I don’t consider myself religious, but I pray to God, to Allah, to the freaking Buddha to make Bianca walk away right now, but of course, she doesn’t.
Bianca lights up like a Christmas tree when she notices I’m near tears.
“Aww!” She turns to the cheerleaders, who circle around her. “Look, she’s going to cry.”
A tear slips down my cheek. I wipe it away quickly.
Jessie squeezes my shoulder, but that only makes me angrier. Bianca gives me a little wave, a huge smile on her face, then turns on her heel. I glare at her retreating back as heat spreads through my body. The night in my bedroom when I lost my cool on Jezebel and regretted it the next morning comes flashing into my head, but I shove that thought aside. I want Bianca to be as humiliated as I am, and right now, I don’t care if that makes me a bad person. I want to hurt her.
The table begins to vibrate. At first I think I’ve imagined it, but then my cafeteria tray rocks so hard it clatters to the floor. The ground rumbles like it’s being punched from beneath me, rattling my spine. Shrieks rise from all around me, just as a siren blares over the intercom.
Someone yells, “Earthquake!”
I panic. I’ve never experienced an earthquake this big before. I don’t even remember what we’re supposed to do.
“Indie, come on!”
Jessie stands next to the table. In the middle of the cafeteria, Bianca and Julia hold their arms out at their sides, trying to keep their balance as the ground rocks beneath them. Pieces of plaster rain down from the old roof.
A low-pitched groan sounds through the room. In a flash, a fissure forms at the center of the cafeteria floor. I can see what’s going to happen.
“No!” I stand up, reaching a hand out. But it’s too late.
The floor cracks open, and Bianca and Julia fall inside.
13