6 Chapter V
Police Officer: How would you describe Selena and Sunny's relationship?
Me: Lyssa is so against them being friends and I don't blame her. They're intimate strangers. Opposite poles on a magnet. In my mind, one word: trouble.
***
"Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?" Said Lyssa, in a high-pitched worried voice.
"Mom, come on. I'm almost fifteen."
"Okay, okay. You're right. Call me at lunch."
"Okay."
"Oh, my sunshine is all grown up." Lyssa kissed her again, this time looking almost teary-eyed as if it was the last goodbye or something. If there was an award for exceptional sentiment, Sunny wouldn't be surprised if she got first prize.
Sunny faced the school. It was like a large rectangle, with endless windows that covered the sides. The polished grey brick gave it a particular scholarly and intellectual vibe to it, like the headquarters of a prestigious technology company. Sunny could tell that the school was too modern to have much history. She walked through three boxed front doors and into another world.
Almost instantly, Sunny was distracted by the muffled chatter of high school students who were much taller than her previous classmates. They had gone through the change that they'd all go through over the summer, only twice as dramatic. Somehow, the thought of middle school seemed so cute, like an old memory that was done and over with. She was in high-school now.
Sunny sat down in the first row at 8:53. She was a whole seven minutes early, partly because she liked to be punctual and make great first impressions, and partly because she didn't have anyone to chat with in the halls. She couldn't help but feel out of place. She couldn't help but notice that everybody was white. Instead of a couple of butterflies in her stomach, there was a whole family.
While she was beaming with hope on that first day of the semester, it seemed that the unfamiliar faces around her weren't. They came in slowly, each one radiating boredom and hostility. They walked in, wrapped in rags, all lumpy and dull. They eyed the ground, frowned. Few scowled.
Minutes later, a chubby teacher with a double chin dropping low walked in, set down her Starbucks, and started with attendance. In the open notebook in front of her, Sunny took notes frantically while the others rolled their eyes as if they were confined in a cage, force-fed some concepts they didn't care about. The round-as-a-blueberry teacher seemed to have trouble breathing, stopping every so often to cough into her fist. The inept teacher before them would be the target of their resentment for four whole years.
"Math clubs after school—" Mrs. Lennie's sentence was cut off by the rough barge-in of a boy. He dragged himself to an empty seat in the classroom. The seat right before Sunny's eyes.
"Cole Baker... you made it." Selena's Cole? He leaned forward and his back came off from the chair. His movements immediately brought Sunny's attention to his sweater. Cole was dressed in a black hoodie that read: football captain. Of course, she didn't know what that meant at the time. What it really meant. Cole, because he looked like a Calvin Klein model, got away with murder.
He was a dangerous boy. The class responded with unison laughter, some people making gestures of imitation. And Sunny, expecting some sort of lecture on punctuality, was shocked when Mrs. Lennie smiled and patted him on the back in pride as if he had just won the Oscar. Such a handsome boy.
Mrs. Lennie gave extremely preferential treatment to the football boys. Apparently, they reminded her of her handsome son. They got out of class anytime for any reason. No homework on their game nights. And when they would barge-in late, she would gather around them at their little desk for a spicy conversation about the new girls they were doing. All the other boys in class would complain about not receiving the same treatment. She dealt with it by giving it by handing out C's like Halloween candy and writing some shitty report about their inappropriate and unacceptable behavioral issues. So, if you don't look like Tom Cruise, this class was not an easy A.
Lyssa had planned for Sunny to stay an honor student this year, and so did she. At that time, she still believed it was possible. But when Mrs. Lennie didn't end up teaching anything, Sunny kept looking over at her and Cole. They seemed so close, like an auntie to a nephew. Sunny couldn't help but notice how Cole's carelessness seemed so cool. How everything was so smooth and easy for him. Cole didn't look at her once the entire class, even though Sunny could notice little but him.
***
Class ended and kids crammed the narrow sidewalks like bees. Sunny seemed unsettled. Where was Selena? After scanning the room, Sunny spotted her leaning on the blue lockers.
"Sel—" She was cut off by a brunette standing in front of Sunny. Her hands were on her hips and the girl wore a style of clothing best described as 'stripper-chic': a micro-mini skirt and low revealing top.
"Oh my god, Selena?" Said the tall girl in what looked like six-inch hooker heels. Selena turned around to face her, not noticing Sunny's presence. "Come here, you pretty little girl!"
"Omg Callie! I missed you so much." The two hugged, and when they pulled apart, Callie started talking over the girl loud and horrendously fast. "So first day of summer and I'm at this boy's house watching TV on the couch— and just saying, I've already been with Justin for a few weeks— but anyway, we were on the couch next to each other talking about parties or something, and Justin just puts his arm around me and starts to kiss me and my first thought is, oh that's just wonderful I'm about to make the same mistake two summers in a row. And then I think, wow I can't wait to tell Selena!" Selena started to chuckle. Callie laughed too, only with a deliberately sexualized voice.
"Uh, who's the girl behind you that's not laughing at my very hilarious story?" She spoke so dramatically that it bugged Sunny just slightly. Selena turned, looked Sunny straight in the eye, and said, "Never seen her in my life."
Then, she turned back around and put her hands on Callie's shoulder to stop her from conversing with Sunny. Callie attempted to push Selena aside, whispering, "Is she new? Who is she?" But she eventually gave up, and the two resorted to talking about the boy who kissed her.
Selena was unpredictable, like the temperature of water in the faucet of a public bathroom. Turn on the tap and you never know what to expect. She was cold one day, hot the next nice; nice one moment and restively rude the next. The exhaust of having to chase her stung Sunny's eyes. She shut them and whispered to herself that it was going to be okay when she knew it wasn't.
* * *
The next day Sunny was in social studies studying Canadian history for the ninth time in nine years. She found her locker after class. The lock stuck a little, but she opened it on the third try. Sunny wiggled down the hall to the cafeteria for lunch.
The cafeteria was high-roofed and spacious like a gigantic football stadium. There were around twenty tables loosely placed into cuddled groups here and there with a white light dangling down at every table. There were tons of empty spaces like extra storage in a warehouse, and though all the tables were occupied to the brim, students still stood nestled around them, holding their plates to their faces to take a few bites. Some goths chose to sit on the floor. There was a kid playing videogames on the window sill. Despite its size, the room was maintained in a busy, lively mood, with all the teenagers being very personable and bubbly with each other. It looked almost like a show.
The canteen was a hole in the middle of a brick wall, with a black chalkboard menu stapled beside it.
The menu read: Fried chicken with potatoes and gravy. $12.
Sunny's eyes doubled when she saw the word gravy. Spreading the brown sauce all over her meat and tasting the rings of savory flavor flowing out like a fruit gusher was a culinary experience that never seemed to disappoint. But when Sunny turned to look at the students who walked out of the intimidating lines with trays and drinks, they didn't seem too happy.
The chicken, lukewarm, was served on stale potatoes, and the gravy looked as dry as the Sahara Desert itself. Lyssa would not be willing to pay top dollar for that flavorless chunk of out-of-date sauce. Suddenly, Sunny seemed relieved that Lyssa packed some of her favorite, healthy foods in an overflowing lunch box.
She shrugged her shoulders and turned away. Sunny spotted a single chair lined along the side of the room and walked there to sit. But before she reached, a lump of potatoes and gravy splat on her face. Yum.
The liquid portion slide down her nose like glue on a slide. Some of it dripped between her teeth and into the gums of her mouth. On her sweater were smears of gravy stains that were a little less appalling than animal excrement. Immediately, Sunny turned her head. Looked right. Left. Nobody. Only a room was full of laughter and conversation as if Sunny was a clown who just finished performing her trick.
Sunny ditched the cafeteria with forming tears and a slobbery face. This was the start of her emotional suffering. Worse than dead, she was humiliated.
If you were ever tempted by the delicious meal, you would be better off bringing a tissue than your appetite. A monumental performance. The curtains closed.
* * *
"I bet you are making so many new friends," said Lyssa. Sunny was quiet. She could still smell the gravy.
"I guess."
"What's wrong?" Lyssa asked. "You can talk to me, honey." Sunny couldn't keep it in and the tears came falling. She buried her head in Lyssa's shoulders and sobbed like a baby.
"Is it that bad girl Selena?" Sunny nodded. "I told you already, stay away from that white girl," said Lyssa, as if she were frustrated at Sunny for even bringing it up.
"You focus on school. These are useless things to worry about. They don't matter, only distract you from your goals," said Lyssa with a strong voice and ruddy complexion. "You hear me?" Lyssa had a way of turning everything into a life lesson.
Sunny was sick of being teased out of her skull with rules.
"You told me that already."
"Well, I'm saying it again. Go do your homework. Stop crying." All Sunny wanted was compassion. But still, she got none. Not even from her own mother.
"Homework. That's all you care about," she said back.
"Excuse me?"
"This is all your fault!" Sunny raised her voice and I could sense violence. "You pushed her away from me! Selena."
"You can't talk to me like that. You watch your voice," said Lyssa. Sunny couldn't bring herself to talk, so she grabbed Lyssa's hand to show her authority. She had never done that before, touched her so aggressively. Lyssa's mouth twitched as the dull light shown on her nest of wrinkles. She added that Sunny should be ashamed of her actions. Sunny, shaking, held on for so long that Lyssa didn't quite know how to pull away.
Lyssa kept saying something, but Sunny was barely listening. The air around her muffled and I could tell her mind was being eaten away by the disease. Every object around her stood in curves so sharply that it burnt her damp eyes. A few beads of perspiration formed on the edge of her face, but she didn't wipe them away.
"I wish you were dead," she said.
