I'm walking to the usual cafeteria table in the back that I share with Willow, school lunch tray in hand, when I spot him. Denny Powell, the boy who never misses the opportunity to humiliate me. My eyes dart left and right, looking for a path that won't make it so that I have to walk right past him. There isn't one. Also, he's spotted me and if I turn and run, he'll make things even worse. Holding my head high and ignoring him as I walk past is my safest bet at this point.
I'm so intent on my mission of making it past him that I don't notice his foot sweep out just as I'm about to exhale with relief. I'm holding my tray out in front of me and so as my feet tangle with his leg, my weighted arms pull me forward and I crash down to the floor, mac 'n cheese, steamed carrots, and jello ending up all over my short sleeved, yellow button down shirt, some splatters hitting my face and hair.
My body goes into survival mode, letting go of the tray, turning around and crab crawling backwards, away from Denny, but through the spilled food. When I see that he is still in his seat, barely containing the laughter that is just behind his eyes and in the smirk on his lips, I rise slowly to my feet, feeling as if I'm somewhere just outside my body.
I am a mess of dripping food, milk puddling on the floor at my feet as the leaking carton empties its contents. I feel brittle as heat fills my cheeks and tears pool in my eyes. The laughter has already started, and now more are joining as my eyes dart around in panic. Finally, Denny gives in and lets out a loud guffaw. I briefly note that it sounds nasally and high pitched. I make eye contact with a few people who are staring at me with pity in their eyes and that's almost worse and so I look away from them quickly.
Suddenly, there is a hand on my arm, gripping me solidly and I hear a boy's voice say quietly, "Come on, Evie, I'll walk you to get cleaned up." I look at the hand on my arm and then my eyes travel up as if in slow motion and it's Leo McKenna, the boy who moved into my foster home last month. He's in the grade above me, even though he had a birthday a couple weeks ago and turned twelve. I don't turn eleven for three more months. I nod, jerkily, and move to step over the food at my feet, but Leo holds me in place. When I look back at his face, I see that he's looking thoughtfully at Denny Powell. Denny notices too and demands, "What are YOU looking at?"
"I was just trying to picture what you'd look like if you had half a brain in your head. Maybe a little different around the eyes… hard to say. Requires a vivid imagination."
Denny jumps up, his face going red, clenching his fists, "What did - " But that's when we hear the sharp click clack of heels hurrying towards the cafeteria. Denny stops where he is.
Leo looks around the room at large and says, "Anything can be funny as long as it's happening to someone else, right?" He makes a disgusted sound and then guides me to the door. The principal, Mrs. Henry, is just turning into the cafeteria and Leo says, "Evie accidentally dropped her tray. I'm walking with her to the restroom." "Oh, okay," she says, glancing at me worriedly. "I'll call the janitor to clean it up. You okay, dear?" she asks, and I just nod as we walk out, wondering why Leo didn't tell her what Denny did. I'm too embarrassed to say a word though.
Willow rushes up behind us in the hall, grabbing my elbow and whispering, "Evie, are you okay?" Willow always seems to be whispering, as if she thinks that if she talks too loudly, she'll alert someone to her existence. I look down at her and give her a reassuring smile.
We leave Leo in the hall and go into the girl's restroom and I clean up my shirt with wet paper towels as best as I can and wipe the food splatters off of my face and out of my hair. Then I stand in front of the blow dryer for a few minutes until my shirt is mostly dry. I sigh as I stand in front of the mirror, biting the inside of my mouth and looking at myself for several minutes. I know what everyone sees; bangs that are too long because no one takes me to get regular hair trims, old clothes that are getting too tight, the fact that I need a training bra (I'm too embarrassed to ask someone to buy one for me), and shoes that flap when I walk because the sole is coming loose.
My eyes move to the left to watch Willow looking silently at me, too. She smiles her shy Willow smile and says, "That boy likes you."
I raise my eyebrows. "Leo?" I smile back. "Nah, he just doesn't like Denny Powell."
"Probably not. But he still likes you." She grins.
I grin back and grab her hand as we leave the restroom.
Leo is standing against the wall across from the restroom with one leg bent, foot against the wall and his hands shoved in his pockets. He smiles as the bell rings and says, "Come on, I'll walk you girls to class." Then he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a small bag of peanuts, hands them to me and winks. My lunch.
**********
I'm sitting on the front porch of my foster home after school doing my homework when Leo walks up the front path. My eyes widen as I realize that he has a swollen, black eye and a bloody lip.
"Oh my God. What happened?" I whisper, standing and walking to him.
He grins though and so I stop, put my hands on my hips and look questioningly at him.
"Leo, what exactly is funny about getting beat up?"
"The fact that Denny Powell looks worse than I do."
"Leo! He's twice your size! He could have KILLED you. I can't believe you did that. Why?"
He purses his lips and looks at me as if he's irritated. "Because he had it coming, that's why."
I take a deep breath, reaching out to touch him but then drawing back. "Your face, though. It looks painful."
"This kind of pain is the easy kind," he says and brushes past me, into the house.
I know what he means, too. I think of that saying, "Sticks and stones can break your bones but names can never hurt you," and how it's all backwards. Sticks and stones and fists CAN break your bones, but it's the words that break your heart.