***
Evan had not approached Clara since the odd cafeteria incident. She was uncertain about what he was doing. He made a point of saying hello to her in the hallways if he passed by her, but he didn’t go out of his way to have a conversation with her like he did at lunch. She feared he lost interest because she was such a poor conversationalist around him. If only he could see the way she interacted with Beatrice, but then he had, at least a little, at Open House a few weeks ago.
She stood at her locker at the end of the day packing her book bag, laughing disdainfully to herself as she considered the idea that he lost interest. That would imply that there was interest to begin with, and she could not bring herself to believe it. Why in hell would a guy like Evan want anything to do with her? He was social and amiable. She was awkward and quiet.
She couldn’t believe she got up early this morning to fix her face. Normally she wore very little to no make-up, but she took special care this morning to look pretty. She wore her hair off of her face in a loose ponytail to draw attention to her facial features—her eyelashes long and dark with the mascara, her high cheekbones a healthy glow with the blush. Her full lips glistened with cherry gloss she applied in the parking lot of the school. He said hello to her in the morning then brushed by her without a second glance, and she decided there was no need to reapply her lip gloss at any point during the rest of the day.
She closed her locker door and jumped.
“Jesus!” she gasped. “You scared me!”
“Sorry,” Florence said grinning. “Heading to work?”
“Yes, as usual,” Clara replied.
“Well, what’s the deal with our project?” Florence was Clara’s science lab partner. She stood staring at Clara, her glasses slightly smudged, straight hair hanging limp like most girls’ hair did at the end of the day.
“I suppose we could finish it tomorrow after school. I’m not scheduled to work.”
She watched as a group of four girls passed by them and giggled.
“Weirdos,” one of the girls said under her breath.
“Can you believe Evan talked to her in the cafeteria?” another asked.
“Momentary lapse in judgment,” a dark-haired girl replied, and all four girls laughed.
Clara felt her face go hot with shame. They were talking about it. People at school were talking about the cafeteria episode. That was probably why Evan stopped talking to her. She was sure he was embarrassed by it, but fortunately for him he had good friends around to set him straight, remind him that he wasn’t a nobody at school but that if he continued talking to her, he would be. They got him back on course, went over the list of acceptable people he could chat with, and she wasn’t on it.
“Clara?” Florence asked.
“Hmm?”
“Those girls are pretty. And they have a lot of money most likely. And they’re popular. And they have nice clothes.”
Clara waited for the “but.”
“But nobody likes them. Not really. They’re mean and hateful.”
Clara smiled.
“And jealous,” Florence added.
“Okay,” Clara said softly. She didn’t believe for one second that those girls were jealous of her, but she appreciated Florence’s pep talk. “I’ll meet you in the lab tomorrow after school, okay?”
Florence nodded, the sunlight through the hallway window catching her glasses and obscuring her eyes. She looked silly and sweet.
“Bye Florence,” Clara said, waving as she walked towards the stairwell.
She fumbled through her purse for her car keys. She hated her purse. It wasn’t even large and yet she constantly lost all sorts of things in it, and they usually happened to be important things.
“Goddamnit,” she said angrily. She was glad Beatrice wasn’t around. She tried hard not to curse around her sister, believing that as stand-in mother she wasn’t allowed to. But she said the words silently in her heart or out loud when she was alone, and figured she was going to hell for it among other things. She didn’t take her sister to church. They didn’t pray or do any volunteer work to help others. Beatrice questioned her belief in God and wanted to conduct séances every night until the electricity came back on. She was aching to, she told Clara. Oh yes, Clara thought. I’m going straight to hell. I’m the worst parent in the world.
“So it’s a goddamnit situation, huh?” Evan asked approaching Clara.
Clara whipped her head around to see the green-eyed boy staring down at her, the sunlight catching the pale blond highlights in his hair. He had his hands in his pockets, his bag thrown carelessly over his shoulder looking stress-free. As usual.
“I can’t find my keys. I’ll be late for work,” Clara said. “I’m sorry you heard me say that. I shouldn’t say that word.”
“No you shouldn’t. You’re too pretty to say something so blasphemous,” Evan replied, and Clara decided in that instant that she would never say “goddamnit” again.
She blushed, and he saw.
“May I help you find them?” he asked.
“They’re either in my purse or book bag, neither of which you’re allowed to go through,” Clara replied then looked at him bewildered. She couldn’t believe she said that to him. It was snarky and rude and it made him laugh hard.
“I’m sorry,” Clara said quietly.
“For what?” Evan asked still chuckling. “And I don’t want to go through your purse anyway. Women’s purses scare me.”
“Why?” Clara replied. A grin broke out on her face.
“There are things in them, if you know what I mean,” he said winking at her.
She didn’t know if it was because she was outside in the sunlight, emboldened by nature, or simply delirious because he came to talk to her again, but in that moment, Clara was not Clara.
She plunged her hand in her purse and pulled out a tampon.
“You mean like this?” she asked waving it in front of his face.