#PastelPrincess

Chapter Twelve

Sitting in my fourth period AP American Literature class with the fourteen other students, it’s clear it’s going to go as well as second and third period, which means no work is going to get done at all. Keeping the teacher busy with relevant questions, the teachers are actually happy to have this discussion; it seems the day will go by rather quickly. Though our names aren’t being specifically said after the assembly, it’s still unsettling to know Chris and I are the eye of the hurricane.

Misses Lemon in a particularly passionate discussion with three students in the front row, I slouch in my back-row seat and close my eyes. Seriously trying to figure out how to tell Macen I can’t be Juliet anymore at lunch, it takes a voice next to me saying my name a third time for me to recognize it and look over. Gabriella Russo, Chris’s not-so-lovely ex, is sitting on the right corner of my desk, arms tight across her almost non-existent chest. One of her perfectly manicured hands flips back her too-straight, oil-black hair over her shoulder as her eyes roll, “Hello?”

Knowing better than to get into her attention w***e drama, I smile softly and reply indifferently, “Yes?”

Popping bubble gum like a stereotypical Jersey girl, she points a finger at me and wiggles it. “So, you and Chrissy, huh? Is this like a thing or like a thing-thing?”

Though I know perfectly well what she’s saying and asking I blink doe-ily and ask “Pardon?”

She rolls her eyes and stands, hands on her hips. “You and Christopher,” she says more slowly as if I can’t understand English. “Are you two a thing? Like, are you a couple now or whatever?”

“I’d say so.”

She lets off a typical mean-girl ‘hmph’ as she spins – her too-short skirt showing me and the boy on the other side of the aisle her a*s. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I breathe deeply and let out a very soft “Lord have mercy.”

Sophia, on my left, practically bursts with laughter. “What the heck was that about?”

Turning to her, I laugh a little too. “If I only knew…. We’ll have to ask Chris at lunch.”

A few minutes later, the bell rings. We meet with Macen outside of his Advanced Physics class then make our way to the dining hall.

Unlike public school cafeterias, Excelsior Academy’s massive dining hall has a copious amount of food options; a day-of-the-week window, a vegetarian window, the Culinary Program window, a window for just sweets, an actual Subway restaurant window, and then a grab-and-go set of fridges full of packaged-that-morning salads, cold sandwiches, drinks, and fruit. Plus, we have fridges and mini lockers for those who bring lunch, microwaves for those who need it, and Freestyle vending machines.

And unlike public school lunch periods evenly divided into three groups, there are four lunches – one for each grade – divided into forty-five minutes slots (which does make our school day a bit longer, but we get a bonus free period to accommodate). Meaning, as soon as Macen, Sophia and Eric, and I are food-in-hand and have gotten comfortable at our usual round table, the next round table over is pushed against ours and Chris sits next to me, and Toby and Parker and Cynthia with her girlfriend Jessica fill in the last spaces.

“Crazy day, huh?” Macen asks while reaching over to take some of Parker’s fries.

Uncaring, Parker chews a huge bite of his mushroom and Swiss burger quickly, nodding. After a rushed swallow agrees, “Oh yeah, man. It’s like The Twilight Zone or something.”

Jessica shakes her head and takes a long sip of her steaming drink. “We’re focusing way too much on how the internet has changed the way we live, the way we interact, what we value… it’s totally making me have an existential crisis.” Cynthia leans her shoulder against Jessica’s and tilts her head to hers, frowning. Jessica’s hand reaches up to her girlfriend’s face at pats it, each smiling a moment after.

Sophia, now always awkward with PDA – even with Eric, keeps her eyes on her food as she comments, “It is kind of insane to think about, though. I don’t know that it’s necessarily a bad thing but it’s so different than how things have been for centuries. I think it’s more of a case of the unknown is scary rather than it actually being a problem…?” though it sounds like she’s even questioning herself.

“Everything is surely amplified given how much information is spread so quickly. It’s not so much that there’s more chaos and destruction in the world or actually higher rates of depression or anxiety or whatever,” Chris explains thoughtfully, “than it is we’re actually aware of it now. Instead of some information never crossing country lines or some information take weeks to circulate, it can go viral in minutes.”

“Viral meaning ‘of the nature of, caused by, or relating to a virus or viruses’,” Jessica reads off her phone.

Toby snorts, “Says the girl who so simply Googled ‘define viral’ to make her point.”

Parker laughs and holds his phone out dramatically. “The second definition of viral is as follows: ‘relating to or involving an image, video, piece of information, etcetera, that is circulated rapidly and widely from one internet user to another’. Which is essentially what the noun definition is as well.” He puts it down and returns to dripping a cluster of fries in mayo. “A rapid spreading of information – just like Chris said – whether good or bad.”

“Like announcements of babies being born or wedding pictures or families on vacation touching base… it doesn’t always have to be bad,” I add to further his argument.

“The more technology is a part of our lives, the safer we can be. But the more technology is a part of our lives, the more at risk we are,” Jessica replies sadly.

“‘With great risk comes great responsibility’,” Chris says matter-of-factly.

The whole table laughs and eases, digressing from the stressful topic. Conversations of superheroes, comics, movies, and video games flow from one to the other without warning. It isn’t until lunch is almost over that Sophia hits my arm with an “Oh!” When I look to her, her eyes are wide and she points to Chris, “Gabriella.”

Chris immediately goes tense where I’m leaning my back against his chest. Toby’s the one to speak, though, saying “What did the she-demon do now?”

“She asked me if Chris and I are a ‘thing-thing’,” I explain with finger quotes.

Cynthia groans, “Ugh. She’s totally going to try and destroy the relationship.”

“Probably,” Parker agrees with picking apart his third sugar cookie.

“Really?” I laugh heartily. “That’s a thing? I thought that was just a movie trope.”

“You have met Gabriella, right? She’s just one big stereotype.”

Chris, who’s been aggressively silent, grunts. “I’m not sorry when I say she can f**k right off and go to Hell.”

I brush my fingers up and down his arm which is armor around my torso. “I think she’s just jealous because I became popular because I’m genuinely nice and interesting, not because I manipulated my way into the role.”

The table erupts with laughter. Toby and Macen let out an “ooooh” and Parker finishes with “she’s gunna need ice for that burn”. It’s very true though and suddenly any tension there might have been because of her is diffused. A flash of a memory streak across my mind though, Gabriella and a lanky-red head waltzing just left of Macen and Sophia last Friday.