I take a deep breath before I step through the door to first period. All heads turn slowly toward me as the room silences. Mr. White pauses his chalk on the board, and opens his bearded mouth as if he’s about to say something. But he looks away and continues his lecture, allowing me to go find my seat. As I slip between desks, no one makes eye contact with me. When I see the empty table by the window with two chairs, my heart stops. It’s where Sam and I usually sat together. But I don’t stall for too long because I sense people staring. I take another breath before I walk over and set my things down. I don’t look at anyone. I just stare at the front of the room and watch the minutes tick, tick away on the clock.
After class, everyone ignores me. No one asks how I’m doing or looks my way. I don’t know what I was expecting coming back. It’s hard not to let it bother me. Maybe they all noticed I wasn’t at the funeral. Maybe they think I’m some cold, heartless person who feels nothing after her boyfriend died. The rest of the day goes like this. Hallways grow silent as I walk through them, and whispers follow. But I keep my chin straight and pretend I don’t hear anything. I suddenly remember the photo Taylor took of me and wonder who she sent it to. Probably their senior group, everyone at the bonfire that night. I’m sure it made them feel better, seeing me like that. Thankfully I don’t have any classes with her or Liam. I’ve been trying hard to avoid those two all day. I even took the other stairs to avoid passing by their lockers.
At lunch I don’t know where to sit. I take my time placing food on my tray as I look around for Mika. I haven’t seen her all morning. Maybe she’s still taking time off from school. She hasn’t contacted me since we met at the diner yesterday. If only she knew what happened last night. After I called Sam and he picked up. But I can’t possibly tell her anything yet. Would Sam want me to? I should ask him before I make any decisions. If our phone calls are real, I don’t want to risk anything.
There are plenty of chairs open but nowhere to sit. I consider eating outside, but I feel everyone watching me. I don’t want them thinking I’m afraid to eat alone. I won’t be one of those girls who ends up hiding in a bathroom stall.
I search for an empty table in the back of the cafeteria. Something catches my eye. Behind a chair, rose jewels glitter along a white silk backpack. It belongs to my friend Yuki. Her smooth black hair flows down her back, long and beautiful. She is sitting by the window with two other exchange students—Rachel from Vietnam and Jay from Thailand. I head over and set down my tray.
“Is anyone sitting here?”
Blinking eyes look up from cafeteria food and lunch boxes. Jay, who is a head taller than the rest of the table, removes his headphones and brushes his dark waves from his forehead. He’s wearing a striped blue baseball jersey he bought on his trip to Seattle.
“No—of course,” Rachel says. Her hair is tied back in a ponytail today. She moves her bag to make room for me. “Please join us.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Awkward smiles are exchanged as I take a seat between her and Jay. Yuki and I share a nod from across the table. We eat in silence. Usually, the three of them are bright with conversation. But there’s a weight at the table that keeps us quiet and somber.
Without saying anything, Jay slides a box of mango slices in front of me. A sympathy offering. I smile at him and take a slice. Then Jay pushes a bag of homemade cookies toward me, along with those mini green tea Kit Kats that he knows are my favorite. They’re his favorite, too. I try to push them back but he insists. “How about we split it,” he says. He’s always been sweet this way.
Rachel smiles at me. “We missed you, Julie,” she says. “We’ve been thinking about you. We’re glad to have lunch with you again.”
“And we miss Sam, too,” Jay says mournfully. “We’re really sorry … about what happened.”
The table goes silent again. Yuki’s eyes flash between me and Jay, as if she’s reading my reaction to Sam’s name. To make sure it’s okay to bring him up. It does feel strange to have them talk about him like this. Like I wasn’t on the phone with him last night.
“Sam was a great friend,” Yuki adds, nodding. She tries to smile. “To all of us. We’ll always remember him.”
“Always,” Rachel says.