She shook her head at me and then laughed. “Oh, yes, I’m stupid. He throws one every year. Everyone goes. And some people who shouldn’t be there go, but there’s no way to control the population.”
“Yeah, like if she shows up, we’re going to have to hide the food,” Candy said, her lip curled. “And lock the fridge.”
The words were so loud I didn’t have to guess at whom she was talking about. The girl was sitting down at a table in front of us. Her curly hair was pulled up, and the back of her neck was beet red.
“Oink. Oink,” said Veronica, brows puckered together.
I stared at them. “That girl isn’t even big,” I said in a hushed voice. She wasn’t as skinny as Veronica and Candy, but hell, people in third world countries were heavier than they were.
Candy glanced over her shoulder and snorted. “What is she? A size ten?”
My mouth dropped open. “Yeah, wow, call Jenny Craig. You guys are joking, right?”
Trey leaned back further, amusement dripping from his pores. The table of girls stared at me as if I’d stripped naked and done a little jig. I gripped my bottle, wanting to throw it at one of their heads.
“Jeez, that’s rude on so many levels.”
Veronica jerked her head back. “Okay, that’s coming from you?”
“So?” I said.
She bit down on her lower lip as she scanned the cafeteria. “Okay. Do you see her?” She pointed out a pretty girl with mochacolored skin and kickass boots. “Just last Wednesday, you called her”—she lowered her voice—“a fat bitch whose thighs were capable of setting the world on fire. So you have no room to talk.”
My jaw hit the floor. “I... I wouldn’t say that.”
Lauren nodded slowly, her eyes focused on her plate. “You did.”
“And a week before that, you actually offered a salad to some chick and suggested that she eat that instead of her pizza.” Trey laughed. “I really thought you were going to get your butt kicked.”
A horrible feeling surged through my veins as I stared at my friends, the same combination of shame and confusion I’d felt when I tried to apologize to the boy in the hall. I couldn’t decide which was worse: that I had said and done things like that, or that my friends all seemed to think it was okay. Disgusted with them and myself, I grabbed my tray and stood. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Veronica’s mouth snapped open. “Sammy!”
I ignored her, blinking back the angry rush of tears. More than anything, I wanted to get away from myself—from any reminder of who I used to be. And I knew exactly where to sit.
I stopped in front of my brother’s table, my eyes fixed on him. “Can I sit here?”
He looked surprised but nodded. “Sure. Have a seat.”
With my cheeks blazing and a sob stuck in my throat, I sat down. Several moments passed before I realized that Carson was at the table, and he was watching me through narrowed eyes. When I glanced up, my eyes met those of the girl sitting beside my brother.
In an instant, I knew who she was—the girl I had a brief memory of; the one with the red floppy hat. Excitement hummed through me as I realized I knew someone. “You’re Julie!”
She glanced at my brother and then back, blinking rapidly. Scott placed his fork down. “Do you remember her, Sam?” he asked.
I nodded eagerly, kind of like a puppy in the dog treats commercial I’d seen the day before. “Yes. I mean, I remember a younger version of her. You were wearing a red hat, but I couldn’t find a picture of you on my wall, but I think we used to be friends.” I glanced at Scott, who was staring at me with wide eyes. Actually, half the table was gawking at me. My cheeks flushed as I trailed off.
Julie cleared her throat. “I used to wear this really big hat when I was younger. It belonged to my mom. We—you and I— thought it was the coolest thing ever, but that was a long time ago.”
Back before I turned into an überbitch or one who had an entire table enthralled for all the wrong reasons. I shoved a piece of pizza in my mouth.
Carson shook his head. “You’re right, Scott. This is really bizarre.”
I pressed my lips together and glanced around the jammed cafeteria. I will not break down. I will not break down. The lump was almost in my mouth, stuck around the pizza. Del strolled in through the double doors, talking to a boy in a neon-green polo.
Horrible shirt.
Del’s gaze drifted over me and then shot back. His eyes widened. The look on his face was almost comical. He said something to his friend and then started toward me.
“Great,” muttered Carson, screwing the lid back on his drink. “I can tolerate her sitting here, but not Del the Dick.”
My laugh bubbled up before I could stop it, and I started to turn toward Carson when something red caught my attention.
At once, everything froze around me. A second later, the lunchroom crumbled away, flaking off in chunks of ash and broken stone. The sounds of people talking, laughing, and eating vanished. A film settled over my eyes, fading everything to a lifeless gray with the exception of one color.
Red.
The only color in the whole room was the red ripped dress hanging from her body.
Cassie stood at the end of our table.